Читать книгу: «The Summer Garden»

1

Maddening Moira was still in his head!

Luke O’Brien had been home from Ireland for a month now. He’d been obsessing over his plans for the pub he wanted to open in Chesapeake Shores, worrying about the likely uproar with his family. He’d gone out a few times with the sophisticated, delectable Kristen Lewis, picking up where they’d left off during a brief rendezvous in Ireland. Truth be told, it was a matter of convenience for both of them, not a meeting of the hearts, but until recently it had been an excellent distraction, if only because it had complications galore that appealed to Luke’s desire for a taste of rebellion.

But then along came Moira Malone with the sharp tongue and wry wit.

“I’ll not be taken in by smooth talk and a wink,” she’d told Luke, firmly putting him in his place. “I’ve been around such men all my life.”

They’d met on the O’Brien family’s holiday excursion to Ireland a few months ago. She was the granddaughter of his own grandmother’s old flame, Dillon O’Malley. She was beautiful, but impossible. In fact, it was entirely likely that she was the most frustrating female he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, in part because she’d been mostly immune to his charm. She’d complicated his life in an entirely different way. She’d unexpectedly engaged his heart.

After staying on in Ireland for several weeks after the rest of the family had returned to Chesapeake Shores, Luke had eventually come home, ready to move on with his life. Ready to finally get serious about life, according to his impatient father, who’d vocally protested the wasting of his college education.

He had a degree in history, for heaven’s sakes! Had anyone seriously thought he’d use that? He certainly hadn’t. He’d chosen history because he enjoyed the subject as much as any other and he’d needed to get the college off his back by declaring a major.

Now, though, the clock was ticking, and the tightly knit O’Briens were all watching and waiting to see what he—the youngest of family matriarch Nell’s grandchildren—planned to make of himself. He doubted that opening an Irish pub on Shore Road was what anyone in the family would have guessed his calling to be.

Restless after going over his plans for the thousandth time, hoping to be so sure of himself, so confident of his path that no one would even attempt to talk him out of it, he wandered over to his brother’s office.

Matthew was currently proving himself to be almost as talented and innovative an architect as their world-renowned uncle Mick. Like most of Luke’s family, Matthew had discovered his passion early on. Luke had envied everyone in his family, not only for knowing what they wanted, but also for succeeding at it, sometimes phenomenally well. He had daunting examples to follow.

When Luke arrived, Matthew was so absorbed in the blueprints on his desk he never even glanced up, which gave Luke more pacing time to get his thoughts in order. He intended to try out his idea first on the most receptive audience he was likely to find.

Eventually, Matthew looked up, spotted him and blinked. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” Luke said. “How many towns and villages have you designed today?”

“Only the one,” Matthew replied, grinning. “I think the plans for this community in Florida are just about set to go to the developer for final approval. He’s very anxious to break ground, judging by the frequency of his calls for updates on my progress.”

Luke had seen his share of architectural renderings over the years, but he had to admit that he lacked the vision to translate them into brick-and-mortar towns. Still, he peered over his brother’s shoulder, prepared to feign the proper enthusiasm. What he saw, though, as he leafed through the pages, left him dumbstruck.

“You designed this? From scratch? A whole community, from houses to Main Street to schools, a library and even a church? You just looked over a few acres of vacant land and imagined all this?”

Matthew’s grin spread as he nodded. “Pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

“I guess all that time you spent playing with Lego as a kid wasn’t wasted, after all. Has Uncle Mick seen it?”

“Of course. He’s in here pestering me every other day. I gather when he isn’t calling me, the developer’s calling Uncle Mick to nudge things along.”

“And?”

“Uncle Mick says it’s as good as anything he’s ever done,” Matthew said, looking pleased.

“Which means it’s a thousand times better,” Luke concluded. “He’s not going to say so on your first big job and risk your having a swelled head and demanding a bigger salary.”

Matthew shrugged off the compliment. “Things can always be better. Uncle Mick has even talked to me about things he would have done differently if he had Chesapeake Shores to design over again.”

Luke regarded him with surprise. “Really? Like what?”

“He admits that Uncle Thomas was right about wanting the community to be built in an environmentally friendly way. He says he wouldn’t have given him such a tough time about it.”

Luke laughed. “No, he’d just give him a tough time on general principle, the same as he does with Dad.”

“More than likely,” Matthew agreed. “So what brings you by here at the end of the day?”

“I was hoping you’d have time for a drink.”

“Sure. Mind if Laila tags along? I was going to meet her for dinner in an hour. You can join us.”

“That’ll work. There are some things I’d like to run by her, anyway.”

His brother regarded him suspiciously. “Just what do you and my wife have to talk about?”

“Maybe we’re conspiring to throw a surprise party for your birthday,” Luke teased, knowing how much his brother abhorred the whole concept of surprise parties, even though he’d determinedly pulled off his own almost-surprise wedding in Ireland, keeping Laila mostly in the dark until his Christmas Eve proposal.

“My birthday was just a couple of months ago, and neither of you is that much of a long-range planner,” Matthew retorted. “Try again.”

“How about I explain it over drinks?” Luke countered.

“Fine. Brady’s okay?”

“Actually, I have someplace else in mind. I need to stop by Dad’s office first. Why don’t I meet you on Shore Road in front of Panini Bistro in twenty minutes?”

“Suits me,” Matthew said. “I’ll call Laila and let her know. If I get there first, I’ll grab a table.”

“Actually, don’t do that,” Luke said. “Wait for me in front, okay? Tell Laila to grab a table, though, if she gets there before we’re back.”

“Back?” Matthew gave him an odd look. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

“Trust me, okay?”

“Always,” Matthew said at once. “See you in a few minutes.”

Luke gave him a wave, then headed for his father’s office. He was hoping to find his father gone for the day and perhaps only his sister still there. Susie might give him grief over his request, but she was less likely to pull rank and demand answers.

Even better, he found the real estate management company run by his father to be closed for the day. Using the key he had for the occasions when he helped out showing properties, he went in, plucked a key off the board for the properties they owned or managed and closed back up.

He beat Matthew to their appointed meeting spot by mere seconds.

“Where to now, o secretive one?” Matthew inquired.

“Not far,” Luke said, heading down the block to a large empty space that had been occupied by a French restaurant that had gone belly-up, unable to survive during the slower winter months. Personally, he thought it had failed because of the god-awful uncomfortable chairs that had made the customers squirm through the torturous minutes it took to eat their overpriced food, but what did he know?

He led the way inside and flipped on lights, then turned to his older brother. “What do you think?”

Matthew looked blank. “Of what? It’s an empty space.”

Luke held his gaze. “Think you could help me turn it into a warm and welcoming Irish pub?”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he heard a hoot from the doorway and turned to see his uncle Mick standing there.

“I come to check on why lights are blazing in an empty property and find you making plans to open a pub?” Mick said, his expression incredulous.

Luke sighed. He hadn’t wanted such a tough audience right from the outset, but maybe it was for the best. Mick had a good business head and a real understanding of what this town needed. He wondered if Mick would see the value of a gathering spot in the heart of town, a warm and welcoming place in the Irish tradition.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Luke confirmed, looking Mick directly in the eye. “What’s your opinion?”

Mick’s gaze narrowed. “What makes you think you can do this? You never worked as a bartender, as far as I know. Never worked in a restaurant, either.”

“Not entirely true,” Luke said. “When I stayed on in Ireland, I worked for a time at McDonough’s, the pub where we spent so much time while we were there. I also traveled all over the country visiting every pub I could find, from those in cities to those in small villages. I asked a million questions, took copious notes and cooked my share of fish ’n’ chips. I even bought an antique bar in a place that was closing. It’s being shipped over here for arrival in a month’s time.”

Matthew’s expression was now as stunned as his uncle’s. “I thought you stayed in Ireland after the family and Kristen left because you developed some misguided crush on the impossible Moira.”

“That’s what I wanted everyone to think,” he admitted, and it had been partly true. “I wasn’t ready to have all of you shoot down this idea of mine. I was still formulating it, testing it out in my heart and my head to see if it felt right.” He leveled a look into his brother’s eyes, pleading with him to understand and back him in this. “It does.”

“But a pub?” Matthew said, his concern evident. “Why?”

“In a weird way, it was something Mack said a while back,” Luke explained, referring to his sister Susie’s husband. “I was giving him some advice and he made an offhand comment that maybe I should consider being a shrink like Will. He was actually being sarcastic, but the idea stuck.”

“And that led you to this pub idea?” Mick said. “What kind of sense does that make?”

“Everyone knows people pour out their troubles to bartenders,” Luke explained. “I like listening, not in any official capacity, the way Will does, but just being a sounding board. When we were in Ireland, I saw that kind of thing happening in every pub we went to, and it all kind of fell into place. Pubs create their own kind of community, not just for drinking but for food and friendship, for music and laughter. At least when they’re done right. I’d like to be at the center of something like that.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Matthew said.

Luke studied his brother’s face to see if shock was edging toward approval. “So, do you think I’m insane?” he prodded.

“A little,” Matthew said. “But I can also see it working. How about you, Uncle Mick? Look around. Imagine that antique bar across the back wall with a big mirror that will bring in the view of the bay, at least during the day. Maybe not as dark as the usual Irish pub, but one suited to a seaside town. Laila and I saw one like that in Howth with a view of the marina.”

He glanced toward Luke. “You mentioned music. Does that mean you’d like a small area for a band?”

“Absolutely,” Luke confirmed. “Nothing too large or fancy, just an area where musicians can set up. I’m hoping to book some authentic Irish groups from time to time. Bands, singers, whatever I can find.”

“Got it,” Matthew said, jotting notes on the pad that was ever-present in his pocket. “Uncle Mick, what do you think?”

Mick shook his head and began to pace. Only after he’d been at it a few minutes did Luke realize he was mentally measuring. When he halted in front of Luke, he looked him in the eye. “You have a business plan? Times get tough around here in winter. You have to be able to weather that.”

“I think the music will keep the locals coming in and maybe draw people from around the region. My figures seem sound enough to me, but I was hoping Laila could take a look at them,” he said. “Math was never my strongest suit. I’m hoping she’ll have time to take over that end of things for me, keep the finances on track and yank my chain when I’m tempted to bust the budget for one thing or another, as she does for Jess.”

“Ah, so that’s why she’s waiting for us now at Panini Bistro,” Matthew said. “We should probably get over there. Uncle Mick, care to come along?”

“Try to keep me away,” Mick said at once. “I’ll just walk to the corner, which is where I was headed when I spotted you two, and get Megan. She should be closing up her gallery about now.”

On his way to get his wife, Luke surmised, Mick had apparently crossed paths with Luke’s cousin Connor, who was meeting his wife, Heather, at her quilt shop and invited them along, because Connor and Heather accompanied Connor’s parents to the restaurant.

By the time they were actually seated at Panini Bistro, they needed just about every vacant seat in the tiny restaurant. Naturally, it was Mick who seized the moment to announce Luke’s news, which caused a noisy eruption of input from everyone in the room, until Mick finally slapped a hand on the table to get their attention. Then he turned to Luke.

“What do you plan to call this bar of yours?”

Luke grinned. “O’Brien’s, of course. If I have a good Irish name, why would I call it anything else?”

A grin spread across his uncle’s face. “And we’re the first to know about this idea of yours?”

“You are,” Luke confirmed, then realized what he’d done.

Yet again, Mick O’Brien had managed to trump one of his brothers, getting the hottest family news first. In a family as competitive as theirs, Luke’s father would never hear the end of it.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me be the one to tell Dad?” Luke pleaded. “Out of respect.”

Mick was clearly torn, but when Megan poked him in the ribs with an elbow, he nodded with obvious reluctance. “Only fair, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, then glanced around. “So, I have your support for this? Laila, you’ll look over the budget, and, Connor, you’ll check all the legalities?” As those two nodded readily, he glanced around. “And you all think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a fine idea,” Mick said to more enthusiastic choruses of agreement from the others. “And if it’s something you’re passionate about, only a fool would stand in your way.”

Luke had a hunch that if his father didn’t grant him unqualified support, his uncle would be more than happy to repeat the exact same message to him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. The last thing Luke wanted was to launch another family feud.

Moira glanced at the snapshot she’d taken a few weeks ago of Luke O’Brien. It was one of her better pictures, she thought. It had captured him laughing, the sea in the background, his black hair tousled by the wind, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Just looking at it made her heart catch.

When Luke had turned up at her grandfather’s house along with the rest of his boisterous family for a Christmas season celebration, she’d been in one of her increasingly dark moods, ready to snap at anyone who crossed her path. Her grandfather and her mum were used to her mood swings and her rebellions. They openly worried about her and her lack of direction, which only made her more miserable.

Amazingly, she hadn’t scared Luke off with her tart tongue. He’d stuck to her that night like glue, teased her until she’d even managed a smile or two. And when they’d all gathered for his brother’s impromptu wedding to Laila just days later, Luke had even coaxed her onto the dance floor, crooning in her ear as if he were settling a nervous filly until she finally relaxed in his arms. And fell just a little bit in love with him.

Truthfully, she’d fallen for his whole family. They were so different from her own. For all the evidence that they argued and battled wits, the O’Briens were also openly affectionate with one another. There was none of the bitterness that emanated from her own mum, or the nonstop worry she saw in her grandfather’s eyes. Brothers, sisters and cousins, along with their spouses, actually seemed to love one another, while Moira could honestly say there were days when she wished her own self-absorbed, thoughtless brothers would vanish in a puff of smoke.

“Moira, the fellow at the table in the corner has been trying to catch your eye for a while now,” Peter McDonough said. “Seems he’s ready for another Guinness.”

Moira snapped herself back to the moment, then quickly returned the picture of Luke to her pocket. She took the drink and crossed the pub.

“Kevin, is it?” she said to the man, who was apparently a regular, while she was new to this particular pub, if not to waiting tables. “Sorry for the delay.”

He gave her a friendly smile. “You looked distracted. Was it someone special in the picture you were studying so intently?”

Was Luke someone special? she wondered. Well, the answer to that was obvious. Of course he was! He was a charming rogue, the kind of man her dad had been, if her mother’s bitter stories were to be believed. She’d understood for the first time how her mother could have been taken in by such a man. In just a few short weeks she’d started imagining herself with Luke forever.

“A friend,” she said now, knowing that she and Luke were at least that much.

The time they’d spent together had been amazing. They saw eye-to-eye on so many things, were both struggling to figure out their places in the world. Together, they’d shared laughter and a passion that had been entirely new to her. At twenty-two, she’d thought she’d been in love a time or two, but now she knew better. What she’d felt with Luke had been different. She’d looked beyond immediate gratification to a future. She only wished she could be sure he’d done the same.

His emails since he’d returned home to Chesapeake Shores had been thoroughly unsatisfying. They’d told her only that she’d crossed his mind, but little else about what he was doing or, more important, feeling. They’d made her cautious in her own responses, not wanting to reveal too much about how desperately she missed him. It seemed impossible that someone could mean so much to her after so little time. Perhaps those days and nights they’d spent together had been nothing more than a wonderful but temporary fantasy come true.

The one practical result being with Luke had accomplished was to motivate her to finally leave the small village where she’d grown up to come to Dublin. For the moment she was staying with her grandfather, but if this job continued the way it had begun, with more than decent tips at the end of the day, she’d soon have enough to find a small place of her own or with a girlfriend. Finally, she’d be doing something she enjoyed without her mum gazing at her in disappointment because she wasn’t continuing her education or aiming higher.

What Kiera Malone had never understood was that Moira enjoyed talking to people, making them smile, being surrounded by their laughter. The only activity more satisfying to her was photography, but she hadn’t a clue how to turn that into a career. For now, she was happy enough taking pictures just for her own pleasure, giving them to friends when she’d captured them at a moment when their personality was evident in the shot.

Back at the bar, she drew the picture of Luke from her pocket once more and smiled. She’d done exactly that in this shot of Luke at his carefree, charming best.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, glancing over her shoulder, then recognizing Luke from the time he’d spent in the pub asking questions and filling in behind the bar. “Ah, you’ve caught the essence of Luke, that’s for sure.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Have you taken others?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Could you do the same thing in here, perhaps snap some pictures of the regulars? We could frame them and hang them on the walls.”

She regarded him with astonishment. “Seriously?” It was the first time anyone had even hinted that she was good enough at photography to do more than take snapshots for her own enjoyment.

“You’ve been coming around here with your grandfather for years. Have you ever known me not to be serious when it comes to this business?” he asked. “I think it will add something special to the place.” He shrugged. “Who knows? It might also bring you a few customers who’d like you to take pictures for their family events.”

Moira hesitated. Was she really good enough for that? Was that even something she wanted? She heard Luke’s voice in her head, encouraging her to take chances, to reach for things she found truly satisfying.

“I’ll do it,” she told Peter, feeling a faint stirring of excitement. “No charge for you, of course. We’ll just see how they turn out.”

“If you take them, I’ll pay for them,” her boss insisted. “You’ll have to be setting your rates now, won’t you?” He grinned. “And then you can give me a generous first-time customer discount.”

She laughed. “Deal.”

A day that had started out in a very dreary way had taken a definite turn for the better. And to think it was her snapshot of Luke that had made that happen. Even from such a long distance, it seemed he was her good-luck charm. If only he were a little closer, Moira thought, she could thank him in person. At least tonight she could send him an email with something exciting to report from her own life, something that might engage him in the sort of exchange they’d had so often during his visit.

Jeff O’Brien regarded his younger son with dismay. “A pub? Are you serious?”

“I am,” Luke said, keeping his gaze level and not backing down under Jeff’s blatant skepticism.

“But why? You have a college degree. Why not put it to good use? You could teach history at the high school.”

“Me? In a classroom? I’d lose my freaking mind,” Luke replied.

Jeff smiled at the adamant response. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized it was a bad fit. You played hooky every chance you got, didn’t you? How many times was your mother hauled out of her classroom or I was called in from work to bail you out of a jam with the principal? I doubt you’d be any happier at the front of the room. You were never fond of routines and predictability.”

“Exactly,” Luke said, then leaned forward earnestly. “I know this isn’t anything we ever talked about, Dad, but the minute the pieces started falling into place, it felt right. I don’t know if it was being in Ireland and really connecting with my Irish roots, or what Mack said about my being a good listener, or maybe both together, but for the first time I thought, this is something I can do, something I can be really excited about.”

Jeff heard that excitement in his son’s voice and, though he had a thousand reservations, he didn’t want to be the one to put a damper on his enthusiasm. Still, he couldn’t help expressing caution.

“Businesses come and go in this town,” he warned. “And the start-up costs money. Where will you find it?”

Luke hesitated, then admitted, “I was thinking I could sell the waterfront land on Beach Lane that you’ve been holding for me.”

Jeff regarded him with dismay. “Not an option,” he said flatly. “That land is worth a fortune and I held on to it so you could build a home of your own one day, not as an investment for you to sell on a whim.”

“It’s not a whim, Dad. I’ve needed a goal and finally I have one.”

“You’ll regret selling it,” Jeff predicted. “Find another way.”

“I don’t want to start off mired down with loans,” Luke told him. “Please, Dad, just think about it. You’ve always said the land was to be mine. Doesn’t that suggest I should be able to do with it whatever I want to do?”

“First, tell me how you plan to weather the slow winters. Have you even considered that?”

“Of course. I’ve even discussed it with Laila and she agrees that it’s a solid plan.”

Jeff stilled at that. “You’ve told your sister-in-law about all this?”

Luke winced, his expression immediately guilty. “I did. I wanted her financial input. How could I come to you without knowing my plan was solid?”

Jeff accepted the logic of that, but he wasn’t entirely pacified. “Then I assume Matthew knows as well?”

“And Uncle Mick and Connor,” Luke admitted. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t intend for them to find out before I spoke to you, but you know how it is around this town. Uncle Mick has big eyes and even bigger ears. He saw Matthew and me on Shore Road the other night, then dragged Connor, Megan and Heather along to dinner with us. The next thing I knew, they were all in on it. I made them promise to keep quiet until I could speak to you myself.”

Jeff tried not to let his annoyance show. After all, it was true that his older brother saw everything and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong more often than not.

“And Mick approves?” he asked.

Luke nodded. “He does, but his opinion doesn’t matter more than yours, Dad. He was just there and you weren’t. I’m coming to you now.”

“But you’ve already decided to move forward, haven’t you? Other than getting me to let you sell that land, this is little more than a courtesy call.” Jeff hated that he was unable to hide his bitterness more effectively. It had always been this way between him and Mick, a rivalry that never ended, no matter their mother’s attempts to keep peace. It shouldn’t be that way between brothers—and thank God he’d avoided it happening with his sons—but he, Thomas and Mick could spar over the color of the sky.