Willow Brook Road

Jackson spotted Carrie and immediately held out his arms. A drooling smile lit up his face.

She grinned at Noah, then passed him and picked up the eight-month-old. “That’s right, sweetie. Aunt Carrie is here to save you from having to eat that nasty old cereal.”

Noah frowned at her. “You’ve been telling me he eats it for you.”

She leaned closer, the baby clinging tightly to her. “Want to know my secret?”

“Please,” he said, sounding a little desperate.

“I mix in a little applesauce. He loves applesauce.”

Noah closed his eyes. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you probably never tasted the cereal yourself and had no idea how awful it is. I believe peaches were the fruit of choice for Cait and me. And in the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t dream this up on my own. Mom gave me the tip after I’d spent a week washing cereal out of my hair.”

Noah laughed then. “I feel a whole lot better now.” His expression sobered. “You say this worked for you and Cait?”

Carrie nodded.

“Hmm. She never suggested it, either. I’m thinking my wife deliberately omitted a few helpful tips when she left me in charge.”

“Could be,” Carrie agreed. “She does like to feel superior. Now, go. Change shirts and get to work. I have things under control here. As soon as I have Jackson fed and cleaned up, we’ll head on over to my house so peace should reign here for you and your patients.”

“Thank you,” Noah said, his tone heartfelt. “I mean it, Carrie. I don’t know what we’d do without you. The first couple of months, when Jackson was with Cait in Baltimore so she could breast-feed him, I had no idea of what she must be going through, even with help. I was so sure it would be easier for me here, with family all around. I’m a doctor. I deal with sick kids on a daily basis. They’re not usually in the best mood, but they’re mostly saints compared to my own son.”

“Jackson is a sweet little angel,” she corrected.

Noah smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re smitten. Otherwise I’d be up a creek. Thanks again for pitching in.” His expression turned serious. “I want you to let me know if it gets to be too much for you, if we’re taking advantage.”

“Not to worry. I love having Jackson with me,” she assured her brother-in-law.

“But it doesn’t leave much time for...” His voice trailed off.

“For what?” she asked, forcing a smile. “My busy schedule of watching the grass grow? My nonexistent social life? Pursuing my exciting career path?”

At her undisguised bitter tone, worry immediately spread across his face. “Carrie, are you okay? Seriously? Do you want to talk about any of this? I can make time.”

“Absolutely not. I think one of the things I love most about watching the baby is that he doesn’t ask questions I can’t answer. I have Grandpa Mick doing enough of that. And Mom. Even Cait gets in a shot from time to time.”

“I’m happy to listen, though,” Noah said. “Being an outsider, I might be able to give you a different perspective.”

“Noah, I love you for wanting to help, but we’re talking about the O’Briens. I have so many perspectives about my life, my head is spinning. I’ll figure it out, even if it’s not on their timetable.”

“Of course you will,” he said with confidence. “I’ll be by to get Jackson later.”

“Or I can bring him back,” she offered. “Whichever’s easiest for you. Just let me know.”

As soon as Noah had gone, she sat the baby back down, mixed some applesauce into his cereal and spooned it into his mouth at a steady clip. He gave her a toothless smile that always warmed her heart.

Today, thinking of Susie’s longing to have a child and her own fantasy about a family, that smile made her heart ache. When would it be Susie’s turn? Or hers?

* * *

First thing in the morning, with Bobby up and eager for the promised pancakes, Sam dug out some wrinkled but clean clothes for his nephew, then took him down to the inn’s dining room. To his surprise he found Mack and Susie Franklin in the foyer. Susie’s gaze immediately locked on Bobby and a smile spread across her face.

“You must be the young man I’ve been hearing so much about,” she told Bobby.

Bobby regarded her shyly, then hid behind Sam. Sam knelt down and drew the boy up beside him. “Bobby, this is Mack Franklin. He’s my boss at the newspaper. And this is his wife, Mrs. Franklin.”

“Call me Susie, please,” she said, her gaze never leaving Bobby.

“When I called this morning to see if you’d made it back, Jess told me you got in last night,” Mack said. “Did the trip go okay?”

“It was smooth enough. I should have let you know we’d made it back to town,” Sam apologized.

“Absolutely not. You had a lot to do to get settled, I’m sure,” Mack said. “In fact, Susie insisted on coming over right away to see what she could do to help out.” He gave Sam a reassuring look. “Things must feel pretty overwhelming about now, but you’re not in this alone, okay? I want to make sure you know that. We all want to help.”

“I appreciate that,” Sam said, beginning to see what Carrie had been talking about. Even though he was new to town people were willing to pitch in. He hated that one of them happened to be his boss, a man he respected and wanted to impress. He couldn’t help wondering what Mack thought of the chaos that had suddenly become his life.

“I’m not entirely sure where to start,” Sam admitted candidly, then grinned at Bobby’s impatient tug on his jeans. “Except to get some pancakes into my boy here.”

“Yeah!” Bobby said.

“Well, I can definitely help with that,” Susie said. “I’ll go in the kitchen and speak to the chef myself.”

Bobby regarded her hopefully. “Can I come, too? I want to see where they make the pancakes. When I get big, I want to make them myself.”

“Absolutely,” Susie agreed and held out her hand. She turned to Mack. “Why don’t you grab a table by the window so we can see the water?”

As she and Bobby left, Mack watched them go with a surprisingly worried expression.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked him as they made their way to a table.

Mack shook off whatever was troubling him and forced a smile. “No, nothing for you to worry about. Do you need more time off? Like I told you when you called the other day, I can manage for another week. I might not have the creative-design expertise you have, and I definitely don’t have your tech skills, but I can post stories and pictures.” He regarded Sam with concern. “You must have a list a mile long of things you need to do to adjust to having custody of your nephew.”

“You have no idea,” Sam said. “Thank goodness my sister and brother-in-law had the foresight to have a will. Too many young couples think they’re immortal, according to the lawyer. He says it’s critical to plan ahead when there are children to consider. They even had a small life-insurance policy that will be set aside for Bobby’s education.”

He shook his head. “It’s hard to imagine my sister being quite so organized. Neither one of us thought much beyond our next meal when we were kids.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Mack suggested. “Kids who grew up in a chaotic household often feel the greatest need for a sense of stability. And, in case you’re wondering, I know that from experience.” He gave Sam a rueful look. “Of course, I had to go through a playboy stage and a career crisis before I figured out what I really needed and got my life on track.”

Maybe Sam was more like Mack than he’d realized. He certainly hadn’t changed dramatically from his early days of wanting to seize whatever adventure came along next. Now, though? He needed to figure out how to do the whole stable thing in a hurry for Bobby’s sake.

“Maybe that explains it,” he said, though he was still skeptical. She might have bossed him around like a mature adult, but she’d had her own wild moments before she’d married. “I think it was probably Robert’s doing. Laurel’s husband was a real steady guy. Money in the bank every week for the future, oil changed in the car, tires rotated or replaced right on schedule. It was ironic, really, that it was a faulty tire blowing that caused their car to spin out of control on a busy highway.”

“That just shows that we can’t always plan for every curve life might throw at us,” Mack said. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

Sam nodded, unexpected tears once more threatening. “Me, too,” he said, his voice choked. He sighed heavily, then added, “All I know about the future is that I need to enroll Bobby in school this morning. After that, I don’t have a real plan.”