charge them for their pints of ale when they come in here.”
“Not the same thing,” she insisted. “This is a business. We all understand that.”
He laughed. “And the day care could be your business,” he said. “Just something to think about. The town could use one. Moira was saying that to me not twenty-four hours ago. She said if we’re ever going to have kids, given our busy schedules and her traveling with her photography exhibits, we’ll need someone we trust to care for them. She flatly refuses to put a playpen in the corner and see our child raised in a bar.”
Carrie could just imagine Moira making that point very clear. From her very first introduction to the O’Briens in her native Ireland, Moira had never hesitated to express an opinion. It had earned her the nickname of Maddening Moira, until Luke had pleaded with all of them to drop it.
Luke gave her a grin. “Maybe when you’re totally focused on starting a business for yourself, the right man will suddenly appear. By then you may be so busy, you won’t even have time for him.”
“The way you were when Moira came along?” she said, recalling how he’d expected Moira to sit by patiently while he got the pub up and running. She’d taken exception to that.
“Exactly,” he admitted with a grimace. “Moira tried to get some sense through my hard head, but it was Nell who finally set me straight about waiting.”
“How? I never heard the story.”
“After Gram fell ill during the trip she and Dillon took to New York, she called Moira and me into her room at the hospital and told us to stop wasting time. She reminded us that we should never put off the things in life that really matter, that there’s never a perfect time for falling in love. I swear, even lying there in that hospital bed looking so blasted tiny and frail, she was a force to be reckoned with.”
“She still is,” Carrie said, then admitted, “It scares me to think what will happen when we lose her. She’s the bedrock of this family.”
“And to hear her tell it, she’s not going anywhere till she’s satisfied we’re all settled and content,” Luke replied. “With a whole slew of great-grandchildren around now, I think she’s planning on being with us for a while.”
“I hope so,” Carrie said softly.
Luke patted her shoulder as he stood up. “I need to get back to work. Just think about what I said. Maybe day care is the right fit for you, maybe not, but you won’t know until you’ve explored the possibility, the same as I figured out a pub was the right fit for me the first time I walked into one in Ireland and realized it could be the heart of a community. I found my true calling on that trip.”
“And Moira,” she said, smiling.
“And Moira,” he agreed.
After he’d gone into the kitchen to check in with his chef, Carrie sighed. Was there any merit to Luke’s idea? Or would it feel as if she was giving up on her own dream of having a family by surrounding herself with other people’s children? She was a great babysitter, a terrific aunt, but there was a whole lot more to running a day care, including more regulations than she’d ever had to deal with. Of course, she had taken a couple of early childhood development and child psychology classes in school. She’d been fascinated by the topics and she’d aced them. She might even have pursued more classes back then, if she hadn’t gotten a PR internship and gravitated in that direction.
She thought of all the O’Brien kids who were underfoot on a regular basis and smiled. They were the best part of her life, no question about that. Could she turn that into a career?
Just as Luke had suggested, it was something worth considering. She certainly didn’t have an alternative in mind and she needed to do something before her family lost patience and she lost her mind wrestling with all this indecisiveness.
* * *
Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that his nephew had finally fallen asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the long silences when Bobby said nothing at all or the string of unanswerable questions that had been thrown at Sam ever since his sister and brother-in-law had been killed in an accident two weeks earlier. The discovery that Bobby was being placed in his care had shocked him into silence, for sure. It was little wonder it had left the six-year-old thoroughly confused.
And now, here they were driving into Chesapeake Shores, a town where Sam hadn’t even had time to get himself settled before learning about the tragedy that had taken Bobby’s parents. He’d left his new job as a grieving brother, his only thoughts focused on getting through the funeral. Now he was returning as a single parent with so many thoughts and fears swirling in his head, he had no idea which needed to be tackled first. He’d put his own grief on the back burner so he could stay focused on the scared little boy suddenly in his care.
“Dinner,” he muttered under his breath. Whenever Bobby awakened, he’d be starving. The one thing Sam did know was that he couldn’t go on feeding the boy nothing but fast food, the only thing that seemed to tempt Bobby to eat. Fortunately fast food was in short supply in Chesapeake Shores, which didn’t have a chain restaurant in town. The closest McDonald’s or Burger King was miles away.
Instead of heading straight to the Inn at Eagle Point, where he’d been staying since his arrival in town, Sam turned onto Shore Road and found a parking spot across from several local restaurants, including O’Brien’s, a pub that specialized in traditional Irish comfort food. Wasn’t that exactly what he and Bobby both needed? Something comforting and filling?
Exiting the car, he hesitated. Did he have to wake Bobby just so he could run in, order some food and run back across the street? It was early enough that the street was mostly deserted. The shops had closed, so few tourists were lingering along the waterfront, and it was too early for most people to be heading out for dinner. And it was, after all, Chesapeake Shores, a town without any significant crime except for the occasional high school prank.
Even as Sam opened the back door of the car, he could hear Bobby’s soft snores. The boy looked so peaceful; it seemed a shame to wake him. Convincing himself his nephew would never be out of sight, he jogged across the street and went inside, grabbing a menu off the bar, then moving back to the doorway while he glanced through the offerings. Irish stew was the day’s special. That sounded healthy and filling. And how long could it possibly take to dish it into a container so Sam could be on his way?
After one more glance to reassure himself that Bobby hadn’t awakened, he returned to the bar, only to find no one there to take his order. In fact, the only person in the place was a young woman, her expression glum as she stared into a glass of wine she’d barely touched.
“What’s a man have to do to get some service in here?” he asked irritably.
The woman’s responding frown was likely justified, but Sam couldn’t worry about the impression he might be making. He had a child outside and way too much on his mind.
“Sorry,” she said in a cool, polite tone. “My cousin had to go in back to speak to the chef. He’ll be right out, I’m sure.”
“You don’t work here?”
“No, but if you’re in a hurry, I can get Luke.”
Sam nodded. “Please. Or can you just tell him I’d like two orders of the Irish stew to go?” He hesitated. “Do
