The Summer Garden

by Sherryl Woods

“Your cancer was that serious?” Moira asked.

  Susie nodded, then waved off the topic. “But enough about that. I’m in remission for now, and that’s what counts.” She gestured toward a table by the window. “Have a seat there. I’ll have our lunch ready in a jiffy.”

  “Let me help,” Moira said.

  “It’s a salad,” Susie protested. “I’ll dump a few greens in a couple of bowls, add a few things and we’re done.”

  “At least let me fix the drinks.”

  “Okay, then. Iced tea for me. It’s in the refrigerator. There are sodas in there as well, along with a pitcher of water. I used to drink bottled water by the caseload till Uncle Thomas convinced me I was single-handedly ruining the environment. Now I’ve taken to filtering plain old tap water.”

  Within a few minutes, they were both seated at a round antique oak table by a floor-to-ceiling window with a spectacular view of the shimmering blue bay.

  “I’ll never get enough of this view,” Susie said. “I’m so glad Dad had the foresight to buy this land and hang on to it for us.” She turned to Moira. “So, you didn’t come by just to get to know me better, did you? It’s about Kristen. I heard about her little scene before the party started last night.”

  Moira shook her head, astonished once more by how word traveled. “Jess told you?”

  She nodded. “She was furious. She tried not to say anything, but I could tell she was upset, so I pried it out of her.”

  “Would it be out of place for me to ask how you coped with knowing Kristen was after your husband?”

  Susie smiled. “I can probably tell you now without wanting to race out of here and rip her hair out. There was a time there when just the mention of her name was enough to make me nuts.”

  “How did you get to this point?” Moira asked. “I’m still fairly eager to have a go at her hair.”

  Susie grinned. “I’d still be willing to help without requiring a lot of persuasion.”

  “Maybe I’ll take you up on it,” Moira said. “I know I shouldn’t let her intimidate me, and I make a great show of being tough in front of Luke, but inside I’m quaking. She’s so polished and sophisticated—not at all like me.”

  Susie nodded in obvious understanding. “That was me, probably magnified a thousand times. You know she came after Mack when I was sick?”

  “I heard that,” Moira confirmed. “How could she? What sort of woman does that?”

  “I’m convinced now that for all her brilliance at business, she has no compassion or sensitivity. Women with no heart take whatever they want, or at least try to.”

  “Did you take her on?”

  “I was too weak to take on a kitten,” Susie admitted. “I think I would have otherwise, or at least I like to think so. Fortunately, Mack made it clear to her that she was out of line.” She smiled. “And then there was my baby brother, my hero.”

  “Luke,” Moira said.

  Susie nodded. “He swooped in and became her fallback guy. I have to say I was furious when I figured out what he was up to, but Luke knew how to take care of himself and he was determined that she would not hurt me, not when I couldn’t fight back.”

  “Was it ever serious to him, do you think?” Moira asked hesitantly, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

  Susie’s hesitation was slight before she asked, “What does he say?”

  “He says it wasn’t,” Moira admitted. “But then why didn’t he break it off at once when he got involved with me?”

  Susie’s expression turned thoughtful. “Okay, I’m only guessing here, because he hasn’t said a word to me,” she said eventually, “but you were still in Ireland. Unless I’m wrong, you hadn’t made plans for the future, hadn’t even scheduled a visit. Kristen was here and handy.”

  “Is that all that’s necessary for a man?” Moira asked in frustration.

  Susie smiled. “Sometimes I forget how much younger you and my brother are. Yes, that’s all it takes. It doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t speak well of my brother, so I can’t defend him, but I do think that’s all it was—a convenience or maybe just a habit. And you’ve seen for yourself—Kristen doesn’t give up on getting what she wants. I’m sure she threw herself straight into his arms every chance she got.”

  “If he really cared about me, I mean even a little, shouldn’t he have resisted?” Moira asked, unconvinced that the responsibility could all be laid on Kristen.

  “Of course,” Susie said readily. “But Luke’s a guy. I think once he makes a commitment to you or anyone else, he’ll be as honorable as they come about keeping it. In the meantime, though, I suppose he figured there was nothing to prevent him from taking advantage of what she offered. He has cut it off now, right?”

  “So it seems.”

  “Then focus on that,” Susie advised.

  “I suppose the fact that he has to deal with her determination to rub their connection in my face every chance she gets is just punishment for what he did,” Moira said.

  “It’s bound to make his skin crawl when he sees her coming his way for that very reason,” Susie agreed. “I know one thing about Luke. However little he cared for Kristen, he probably feels bad that he’s broken it off. Even more, though, he would give anything not to have you hurt by her. It’s quite a balancing act for a mere man to tackle.”

  Moira smiled at the assessment. “Will she give up, do you think?”

  “She gave up on Mack,” Susie said. “She’ll eventually give up on Luke. Her pride won’t let this drag on for too long.”

  “Should I wait her out or try to make things clear to her?”

  “Which will make you feel stronger and more in control?”

  “Telling her off,” Moira said at once.

  “Then that’s what you should do.”

  “And Luke won’t freak out if I stake my claim?”

  “Do you honestly care?”

  Moira thought about that, then smiled. “No, this is my battle. I’ll wage it however I like.”

  Susie laughed then. “Good for you. Mind if I tag along whenever you go after her? It’ll do my heart good.” She shrugged. “And it probably wouldn’t hurt to have backup if things get out of hand.”

  Moira chuckled with her. “I’ll give that some thought and get back to you. I’m not sure a witness is a good idea, especially if things take a turn for the worse and I go for her throat.”

  “Aw, come on,” Susie pleaded. “How can you expect me to miss that?”

  “You’ve a devilishly wicked streak, haven’t you?” she said approvingly. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”

  “I hope we’re going to be more than that,” Susie replied. “I think sisters-in-law would be fantastic.”

  Moira regarded her with surprise. “Then I’ve your blessing as far as Luke’s concerned?”

  “You do,” Susie said quietly. “But don’t expect him to rush into anything, Moira. He has a lot he wants to accomplish before he’ll be ready for the next step.”

  “So he’s mentioned,” Moira said wryly. “More than once.”

  “If you can respect that, I think the day you’re hoping for will come sooner than you think.”

  Moira wished she shared Susie’s faith in that, but she intended to hang in there just in case Susie had pegged it right. After all, with her heart already on the line, what choice did she have?

  18

  To Luke’s astonishment, Friday and Saturday nights were even busier than the party had been. Word had apparently spread through the region about both the atmosphere and the music. It helped, too, that it was a gorgeous spring weekend, which had drawn the summer tourists to their cottages by the bay. The slow opening he’d envisioned before next weekend’s traditional Memorial Day
onslaught hadn’t happened. None of the O’Briens had even an instant to catch their breath.

  Each night, he and Moira had fallen into bed exhausted but exhilarated. As tired as they were, they were awake late, talking about how things had gone, what needed improvement, what was drawing raves. He hadn’t realized how wonderful it would be to have someone by his side who understood how a pub operated, whose praise—or criticism—came from knowledge rather than bias.

  “It’s a good thing I decided to be closed on Mondays at first,” Luke said with Moira wrapped in his arms. “I think by this time tomorrow, I’ll barely be able to keep my eyes open.”

  “Perhaps if we went to sleep, instead of all this fooling around we’re doing,” she teased, “you’d be more rested.”

  He laughed. “Fooling around, is it? I thought we were making love.”

  She regarded him with surprise. “I thought just using the phrase might scare you.”

  He knew the comment had been made in jest, but he hesitated, thinking about it. “I think it might have as recently as a few days ago,” he said, “but not now.”

  “What’s changed?” she asked, looking deep into his eyes.

  It seemed to him that she was all but holding her breath as she awaited his response. He knew he had to get it right. “You,” he said, then shook his head. “No, it’s more about me when I’m with you. It all feels right. Yes, it was about the challenge when we first met and you brushed me off. And then it was about you fascinating me. Now it’s about all of that plus being comfortable with you.”

  “Like an old shoe?” she inquired, eyes sparkling with mirth.

  “No, sexier than that by far.”

  He waited for her to press for more, which is what she would have done just a couple of weeks ago, but she merely smiled, apparently satisfied with his response.

  “That’s good, then,” she said quietly, and snuggled closer. “Now, go to sleep or we’ll both be dragging through the day tomorrow.”

  He grinned. “We don’t open until noon, which gives us an entire morning to sleep.”

  Her expression brightened. “Well, in that case, then,” she said, moving into his kiss.

  The weekend had been so frantic that it wasn’t until Monday that Moira had a chance to load the pictures she’d taken at the opening onto Luke’s computer and begin sorting through them. Once again, she was surprised by the way certain personalities had been captured in a single shot. She always hoped for that, of course, but until she saw the proof in front of her eyes she was never certain she’d managed it. More often than she liked, she hadn’t.

  But today, here was Mick with his head thrown back in full-throated laughter. She’d caught Nell bending over a pot of Irish stew in the kitchen for a final sniff of the aroma, eyes closed, a smile on her lips. And Luke’s uncle Thomas with an arm around Connie’s shoulder, his hand resting on her enormous belly and a look of utter satisfaction and joy on his face.

  Though there were dozens of photos she loved and at least half of those that she thought might be good enough for the walls of the pub or to share with the family, only a few were special enough for the portfolio she was putting together for Megan’s approval. She printed those out in snapshot size, then headed down the block to Megan’s gallery. Though it, too, was closed on Monday, like so many other tourist-oriented businesses in town, Moira knew Megan would be in back catching up on paperwork.

  At her knock, Megan came out of her office and smiled when she recognized her.

  “Please tell me you’ve come to show me pictures from the opening,” she said as soon as she’d unlocked the door.

  “Right here,” Moira told her, still clinging to the envelope she’d brought along. “Just a few.”

  “Judging from the size of it, that must be a mere sampling,” Megan said, clearly disappointed. “You could always let me look at all of them and be an impartial judge.”

  Moira shook her head. “I want you to see only the best, and then choose from those the ones you think are really extraordinary.” She shrugged. “If any of them are.”

  “Don’t be so modest,” Megan said. “We both know you have the talent for extraordinary.”

  “You may believe that, but I’m still struggling with it,” Moira said. “Every time I load a new batch of pictures into the computer, I’m filled with doubts.”

  Megan wiggled her fingers. “Hand ’em over. Let’s see what you have.”

  Moira gave Megan the small test prints, then left her alone while she walked through the gallery. She’d been meaning to come by for a while to see the photography exhibit, but this was her first chance.

  As she studied the shots, admiring the use of light and shadow in the photographs, she remained attuned to Megan on the other side of the room behind her desk. Each time she heard a small gasp, her heart leaped.

  “Moira,” Megan said eventually.

  She turned back, noted the neutral expression on Megan’s usually transparent face and felt her heart dip. Filled with anxiety, she crossed the room. “Well? Is there anything there that will meet your high standards?”

  A wide, reassuring smile broke across Megan’s face. “I know I’m biased because these are people I know and love, but just as you did with the children in the park, you’ve brought them alive. I can hear Mick’s laughter and feel Thomas’s joy at the prospect of being a father. As for Nell, showing her in the kitchen, where she’s most at home, was a perfect choice. They’re truly remarkable, Moira. If you ever try to tell me again that you want no part of this, I’ll fight you. Moreover, I’ll have the entire family gang up on you. You have no idea how persuasive we can be when we’re all dedicated to the same cause.”

  “You’re not just saying that?” Moira asked nervously. “Are you trying to be kind to me because of Luke?”

  Megan shook her head at once, clearly impatient with the question. “This is business, Moira. Luke is completely separate. And, before we put that topic aside, let me say that I was impressed with how well you worked together at the opening. You do make a terrific team.”

  Moira allowed herself a momentary hint of triumph. “Really? I mean about the photographs,” she asked, not quite daring to believe her.

  “Really,” Megan reiterated. “You’ll need many more before we can put a show together, but since you’ll be in Chesapeake Shores for a while now, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to take pictures at various town events. I’d like you to take some in the businesses as well. Once we have a full complement, we’ll have a better idea of what to call the show. I’m still leaning toward The Faces of Chesapeake Shores, but The Heart of a Town might work nicely as well. It would travel better, perhaps, if the show were to be mounted in other cities.”

  Moira felt the first faint stirring of real excitement. She hadn’t permitted herself to believe anything about this opportunity. Having her own show had seemed far too grand for someone like her. Taking pictures at weddings or baby showers had seemed attainable, but this? Viewing her pictures as art? It was completely unbelievable. What would Peter think when she told him?

  “It doesn’t change what I really want,” she warned Megan. “This is exciting and more amazing than anything I ever imagined, but it’s still a family that I truly want.”

  “You’ll have both, if it’s what you want,” Megan assured her.

  Of course, Moira thought yet again, the family side of her dream—the biggest part of the future she wanted—wasn’t entirely hers to decide, at least not if she wanted all that with Luke. He still had a say, and though she thought they’d made some progress, he was far from ready to dive in now.

  Perhaps while he continued to sort out his feelings, it wouldn’t hurt to grab on to this amazing opportunity and see just how far it could carry her.

  Megan sat back, studying her. “So,
Moira, what did you think of the current exhibit?”

  “It’s interesting,” she said carefully, hesitant to express her reservations to the woman who’d obviously had faith in the photographer who’d taken the pictures. “It’s very different from what I do.”

  Megan smiled. “Very different,” she concurred. “Mike’s pictures strip down the beauty of something to its bare essentials. A twig covered with snow, the dew on a flower. I think that’s often best achieved in black and white.”

  “They’re still,” Moira said, choosing her words carefully. “Quiet, if you know what I mean.”

  “And yours radiate life and energy,” Megan assessed. “Thus the difference. I’m glad you understand it. You may be very new to looking at your work analytically, but you have a basic understanding of why it’s so special. That tells me you’ll always recognize the most magical moments in your shots.”

  “I’m actually afraid to think about them too much,” Moira said. “If I get too much in my head, won’t I lose something of the spontaneity?”

  Megan grinned. “I think so. Good for you for understanding that. I think we’re going to work well together, Moira. And if this show goes as well as I think it will, you’ll have more attention and more opportunities than you ever imagined.”

  “Please, don’t get too carried away beyond this one show,” Moira pleaded. “The thought of more terrifies me. And I do have commitments back in Dublin. I’m thinking I’ll still fly back to do those jobs. It’s only fair.”

  “I suppose I can live with that,” Megan told her. “Though I’m anxious to get moving, I’m impressed by your loyalty to the man who inspired you back home.”

  Moira regarded her with real gratitude. “Thank you again for giving me this chance to prove myself. I’d have been content to take the occasional pictures at weddings, I think.”

  “They would have been very lucky brides,” Megan told her. “Now I’m going to be the lucky one, because I get to launch your work to a much larger world.”

  “I still can’t get used to the idea that you see it that way,” Moira admitted. “I mean it when I say that just thinking about it scares me to death.”