The Inn at Eagle Point

Abby grabbed the phone from him. “No, Dad, leave it alone. Trace will get the bank to back off. They won’t foreclose.”

“And you’re willing to stick around here the way he wants you to?” he demanded.

“I’ll call my boss and work something out. A lot of what I do can be handled online and by phone or fax. Once Trace has had time to think about it, he’ll see how absurd he’s being.”

“Not if it’s his way of keeping you underfoot,” Gram said, her expression knowing.

“What are you talking about?” Mick asked.

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, Mick, Trace always did have a soft spot for Abby. Surely you remember the way he was always hanging around here? It wasn’t just to play catch with Kevin and Connor, I can tell you that.” Her gaze met Abby’s. “Maybe his feelings for you ran deeper than you ever said, am I right? I always had the feeling something happened between the two of you before you took off for New York.”

Mick looked confused. “So what then? He’s blackmailing her into staying here?”

“Don’t make it sound ugly, Mick,” Gram chastised. “Men in love will do a lot of crazy things to get their way.”

“Trace is not in love with me,” Abby protested. “Come on, Gram, we’re focusing on the wrong thing here. All that matters is helping Jess keep the inn.”

Now it was Mick’s turn to give her a considering look. “If that’s the only thing that matters, then why not let me call Lawrence Riley? Is it because you’re happy with this turn of events?”

Abby frowned. “Of course I’m not happy with it, but I can handle it. I can handle Trace.”

“Doesn’t look that way from where I’m sitting,” Gram said, though she seemed surprisingly pleased about it. “If you handled that man all that well, he wouldn’t still be carrying a torch for you ten years later.”

“Will you stop it?” Abby pleaded. “I’m going upstairs to check on the girls. Then I’m going to call the office and tell them I’ll need to work from here for a few more days until I can get all this sorted out.”

She hadn’t gone far when she heard her father say, “Abby and Trace Riley? Why didn’t I know about that?”

“Because you weren’t around,” Gram replied. “And you never listened to half of what I told you, especially if it concerned your daughters’ love lives. If it had been up to you, none of them would have gone on a date before they hit thirty.”

“You say that as if it would have been a bad thing,” he grumbled.

Abby sighed. At least her father wasn’t trying to interfere in Jess’s business for the moment. Apparently he’d suddenly discovered that her life was a lot more fascinating. Unfortunately, who knew where that could lead? To nothing good, that’s for sure. The only thing worse than having a disengaged father was having one who meddled.

5

Mick stood up from the kitchen table, his mind made up. He couldn’t sit on the sidelines and let Trace Riley manipulate things in a way that was bound to cause problems between his daughters. He didn’t care what Abby said about it.

“Where are you going?” his mother asked suspiciously.

“Thought I’d take a drive,” he said evasively.

“Into town?”

“Possibly. Is that a crime?”

“It is if you’re thinking of stopping at the bank. You heard Abby. She’ll work this out.”

He regarded her with frustration. “Ma, how can I let Trace Riley get away with this? You know how it’s going to end. Jess will wind up resenting Abby the same way she’d resent me for interfering. I’m used to it. I can live with Jess’s anger and with Abby’s, for that matter, but I don’t want anything to come between those girls. Abby’s always looked after Jess, and Jess has always turned to her big sister. The bond those two share shouldn’t be risked over a couple of loans I could guarantee with the stroke of a pen.”

“Leave it alone, Mick. They’ll figure things out for themselves,” his mother said confidently. “You said it yourself, those two have always stuck together. There’s no point in making things worse between you and Jess, which is exactly what would happen if you step in and try to fix things at the bank. Abby probably wouldn’t be happy about it, either.”

“You’re asking me to sit back and do nothing,” he grumbled. “That’s not my nature.”

She gave him a chiding look. “Did I ask you to do nothing? Seems to me that a man who’s feeling restless could use a walk,” she said, her expression sly. “The inn’s only about a mile away. It wouldn’t hurt to ask your daughter to give you a tour, show you all the improvements she’s made.”

Mick considered the idea. He had to admit he was curious about the work Jess was doing. Finally, though, he shook his head. “She’ll just think I’m over there spying on her.”

“Or maybe she’ll think you’re taking an interest in something that really matters to her. Just keep your opinions to yourself unless she asks for them.” When he was about to reply, she held up a hand. “I know that goes against your nature, too, but for once just listen to me and follow my advice. I didn’t spend twenty-five years married to the world’s most stubborn man and raise three impossible boys without learning a thing or two about biding my time.”

“Take a walk. Tour the inn. Keep my mouth shut,” he mimicked. “Do I have that right?”

She gave him a satisfied smile. “I think that sums it up. I’m going up to take a nap. I hate to admit it, but taking care of those girls this morning just about wore me out.”

Mick regarded her with concern. “Are you okay? Should I call your doctor?”

“Heavens, no. I’m just a little tired. Spend the afternoon with Jess. That’s where you’re needed.”

“Okay, then,” he said, bending down to press a kiss to her brow. “If you need anything, or the girls do, I’ll have my cell phone with me.”

“We’ll be fine. Just focus on mending fences with Jess.”

There was a breeze blowing in off the bay as he set out on his walk. It kept the air cool, despite the warmth of the sun. Since it was a weekday there were only a handful of pleasure boats bobbing on the water. He spotted a couple of watermen checking their crab pots for needed repairs, but most of them had returned to dock by this time of the day, especially this early in the season. In another few weeks, they’d be out before dawn, chugging along, trying to make a living from the dwindling supply of crabs, croakers and rockfish in these beautiful but increasingly polluted waters.

It made him sick the way people took the bay for granted. Thank God for people like his brother Thomas. They might have mixed like oil and water when they’d tried to work together, but Mick admired the way Tom fought for the environment, trying to protect the bay’s natural resources. Mick had tried to build Chesapeake Shores responsibly, but even with all of his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to meet his brother’s high standards. And neither of them had been much good at compromise, though eventually they’d hammered out a plan they could both live with.

He’d left more open spaces than he’d initially planned, steered well away from the wetlands and tried not to remove any trees that didn’t absolutely have to go. He’d landscaped with plants from a very specific list his brother had compiled for him. If Tom had had his way, not a single tree would have been felled and the dilapidated general store once owned by some O’Brien ancestor or another would have become the centerpiece of downtown. Mick had agreed to renovate the family’s original farmhouse and to save an old structure that had doubled as a school and church, but that’s where he’d drawn the line.

He was still thinking of the lively shouting matches they’d had over all that when he rounded the final curve in the road and saw the inn for the first time since Jess had bought it. He was taken aback by how good it looked. She’d brought back its inviting facade, almost as if she remembered how welcoming it had originally looked when he and Jeff had first built it. But Jess had only been a baby back then. How had she remembered it so clearly? The Pattersons certainly hadn’t kept it looking like that in years. The yard was shaded by ancient oaks, and there were even a few weeping willows far enough from the house that they wouldn’t mess with the water pipes. The inn had gotten its name from a lone eagle that his brother had spotted during construction. Since then, there were more in the region, including a pair that took up residence in the highest branches overlooking the bay and the inn.

“Dad!”

He heard the surprise in Jess’s voice, then spotted her sitting on the porch with a glass of iced tea, her bare feet propped up on the railing. “Hey, Jess,” he greeted her, trying to keep his tone casual. “I was out for a walk after lunch and found myself heading in this direction.”

“Why?” she asked, radiating suspicion.

“I just wanted to see what you’ve done with the place,” he admitted, sitting down next to her. He glanced sideways, saw the tension in her shoulders and inquired, “Any more of that tea?”

She hesitated, looking as if she weren’t all that happy about the prospect of spending time with him. Then she stood, ingrained hospitality winning out over her reservations. “Sure. I’ll be right back with some.”

Mick sighed after she’d gone. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, he concluded. Then, again, why should she? Ma was right about one thing. He’d always criticized her. Early on, he’d excused it, thinking he’d been as tough on all his kids. But then, when they’d found out that Jess had a relatively mild case of ADD, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from continuing with the same pattern, as if he’d thought she could change her behavior if she wanted to badly enough, even without the medication that doctors thought she probably didn’t need. Mick sighed, wondering if they shouldn’t have revisited that. Maybe she had needed it.

Because he’d recognized that his attitude wasn’t helping, he’d always assumed she was probably happier when he was away, but maybe that hadn’t been true. Maybe she’d felt abandoned, just as his mother had suggested. He vowed to try a different approach.

When Jess returned with his glass of tea, he lifted it in a toast. “Congratulations, Jess! You’ve done a fine job here. It hasn’t looked this good since the day Jeff and I sold it to the Pattersons.”

“They really did let it fall apart,” she said. “But thanks to you, it had good bones. Most of what I’ve had to do is cosmetic.”

“I’d like to see what you’ve done inside, if you have time to show me around.”