Carrie thought with a sigh. She was saying so much more. Worse, just like Luke, she was probably right.
Sam put the dinner he’d ordered at O’Brien’s into the backseat of his SUV next to Bobby. The boy had been sleeping while he was talking to Carrie Winters, but he was wide-awake now and looking around with a curious expression.
“Are we home yet?” he asked Sam, his tone plaintive.
“Just about, buddy. We’ll be home in a couple of minutes. I stopped long enough to pick up some dinner for us.”
“Where? I don’t see McDonald’s.”
Sam pointed to O’Brien’s. “See the restaurant right across the street? Dinner came from there and it’s going to be delicious. I’m told there might even be some homemade cookies in the bag for dessert.”
“How come you didn’t take me with you?”
“You were sleeping.”
Bobby’s expression turned serious. “Mommy never left me alone in the car. She said it was too dangerous, even when I told her I was big enough to take care of myself.”
Once again, all of his shortcomings as a prospective father slapped Sam in the face. He’d discovered that no one could induce guilt quite like a six-year-old...except, perhaps, an indignant, red-haired stranger.
“Your mom was absolutely right, but you were just a few yards away and right where I could see you the whole time I was inside the restaurant,” Sam said in his own defense. He wondered if that sounded as hollow to Bobby as it obviously had to Carrie Winters?
“And Chesapeake Shores is a lot safer than the city, even one as safe as Louisville,” he added for good measure.
“Does that mean I can play outside by myself?” Bobby asked hopefully. “Mommy never let me do that. She said I always had to be with a grown-up.”
That sounded just like Laurel, Sam thought. As far back as he could remember she’d been making up rules and issuing orders. As a kid he’d resented it, but with the hindsight of maturity, he could see that she’d been trying to make up for the chaos of their family life. It had been her self-assigned task to protect him. Recalling how often they’d butted heads and recognizing now how good her intentions had been brought the sting of tears to his eyes. How had he let some stupid argument come between them?
“We’ll have to work that out,” Sam hedged, fighting tears as he drove along the curving, waterfront road to the Inn at Eagle Point. He’d vowed not to show any sign of weakness in front of his nephew. Bobby needed to believe in him.
“First we need to get you enrolled in school, so you can make lots of new friends this fall,” Sam continued, injecting an upbeat note into his voice. “And we need to find a real house so you can have your own room and maybe even a big yard to play in.”
Bobby’s eyes widened. “You don’t live in a house?”
“Not yet. I just moved here, remember? I’m staying at an inn. It looks just like a great big house, though.”
“I went to a hotel once. Is it like that?” His eyes brightened with excitement. “Does it have room service?”
“I haven’t tried it, but I imagine it does. We can check that out in the morning. I know it has a dining room with lots of windows so you can see the bay and all the big birds like osprey and eagles. I can say for a fact that the pancakes are really, really good.”
The last hint of Bobby’s uncertainty vanished completely. “I love pancakes,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. “Mommy only made them on Sundays, though.”
“Well, here you can have them any day you want them,” Sam promised. “At least as long as we’re at the inn.”
His nephew fell silent until they pulled into the parking lot of the inn. “Wow! It’s the biggest house ever! Can I play in the yard? Can we go swimming?” His eyes grew even bigger. “It even has a pool. I never, ever want to leave here.”
Sam chuckled at his sudden burst of enthusiasm. It had been in short supply for the past couple of weeks as Sam had dealt with the details of the funeral, putting his sister’s house up for sale, and facing the shocking news that he’d been named Bobby’s guardian. His sister’s in-laws had threatened to fight him for custody until the lawyer had convinced them the will was airtight and that Sam had the energy to cope with an inquisitive, lively six-year-old, something a retired couple in their sixties and living on a fixed income might not be able to handle.
“I’m afraid we can’t stay here forever,” he told Bobby. “It costs a lot of money, but I promise you we’ll pick a house that you’re going to love just as much. You can help me decide on the right one.”
A familiar frown settled on Bobby’s face and Sam’s stomach tied itself into knots. He could feel the disappointment radiating from the backseat. How many times was he destined to let this boy down before everyone realized what a mistake had been made in giving him custody?
“Sam?” Bobby whispered hesitantly.
Sam turned and saw tears dampening Bobby’s round cheeks and realized this was about more than staying at the inn. “What, buddy?”
“If we keep moving, how are Mommy and Daddy going to find us?”
Sam’s heart twisted. “We talked about that, remember? Your mommy and daddy can’t come back. They’re in heaven.”
“But you said that even in heaven, they’d always be looking out for me. How are they going to find me?” he asked, his expression way too serious and worried for a child his age.
Sam had never felt more out of his depth in his life. “That’s the thing about heaven,” he said eventually, praying he was getting it right. “The people we love who live there can see us wherever we are. Your mom and dad will always know exactly where you are and when they asked me to take care of you, they knew I was in Chesapeake Shores.”
“Have they been here?”
“No, but I’ll bet they have this amazing GPS thing in heaven and it’s already guided them right here.”
“Really?”
Sam nodded, though he was certain of no such thing. He wanted to believe. He really did. But what sort of god took away a little boy’s parents and left him all alone with an uncle who didn’t have a clue about how to raise himself, much less a child? Even as those words crossed his mind, he remembered Laurel saying much the same thing, telling him it was time to stop his restless roaming and grow up. He’d accused her—yet, again—of trying to control him. The heated exchange, one of many in a similar vein, had occurred months ago, but it had been the last straw. After that he’d simply avoided taking his sister’s calls, leaving messages when he’d known she wouldn’t be home so she wouldn’t worry, but not wanting to risk another lecture on his flaws. Despite the distance that had grown between them, she’d never stopped texting pictures of Bobby or sending notes on special occasions. To her credit, she’d done all she could to keep the lines of communication open, while
