Dogwood Hill

“Maybe you weren’t as eager to evade his matchmaking as I am,” Liz said, standing up. She hated lying to her friend, to anyone, in fact, but she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to share the real story behind the night she’d lost her husband. Better to escape now before Bree coaxed her into revealing something she didn’t want to remember, much less talk about.

She reached into her purse for money to pay for her coffee and raspberry croissant, treats she allowed herself only after strenuous outings with her animals. Chasing Archie all over Dogwood Hill today definitely qualified.

“No. It’s on me today,” Bree protested. “It’s the price I pay for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.” She stood up and hugged Liz. “We may be well-meaning, but don’t you dare hesitate to tell any of us to butt out, okay?”

Unexpected tears stung Liz’s eyes. “I won’t, but to be honest, knowing that you care enough to butt in means the world to me.”

It was almost as if she’d found a whole new family after losing her husband on a rain-slicked road one terrible night a year ago. The pitiful truth was, though, that she’d apparently lost him long before that and never known it.

* * *

After his disconcerting conversation with Liz, Aidan drove around town trying to convince himself that Chesapeake Shores wasn’t the place for him. He diligently focused on the downside.

It only had a tiny district of shops and restaurants, for one thing. There were more businesses and a greater diversity of fancy and take-out food options within two blocks of his apartment in Manhattan’s Upper West Side than there were in this entire town, maybe even the whole region without going all the way to Annapolis or Baltimore.

He picked up a copy of the local weekly Liz had mentioned and compared it to the daily New York newspapers, then shook his head. When a meeting of the town’s beautification committee was front-page news, he was definitely in the wrong place.

Then, of course, there was the insight Liz had given him into a town where seemingly everyone knew everyone else’s business. In New York, though he had plenty of friends in the city, he was barely acquainted with most of his neighbors. That had always suited him just fine. There were enough real celebrities around town that a professional athlete could easily avoid the limelight if that was his choice. In his case, it had been.

How could this possibly be the best match for him? Even if the town didn’t come with a whole slew of emotional baggage attached, small-town living probably wasn’t right for him. He’d go stir-crazy in a month, quite probably sooner.

Sighing heavily, he came to what had to be the best decision. He’d set up an interview for tomorrow, because he’d made a commitment and commitments meant something to him. He’d even try to listen with an open heart, but his mind was already made up. He’d decline the job, wish them well, then take off right after the interview.

There were bound to be other coaching jobs, jobs that wouldn’t put him anywhere near a man he’d now convinced himself he didn’t really need to know or even meet. Thomas O’Brien was a name on a piece of paper, an important piece of paper to be sure, but meeting him wouldn’t change the fact that he’d been nothing to Aidan his entire life. At least he knew where to find him if some genetic health issue cropped up years from now.

An image of Liz crept into his head and he felt a moment’s regret. Not only was she beautiful, she had a good heart. He’d felt an instantaneous connection to her, something that rarely happened with the women who tended to flock around professional athletes. Liz was real.

Still, he couldn’t allow a momentary attraction to a woman to sway him into making a decision that was so obviously all wrong. He’d have a nice dinner, get a good night’s sleep, meet with the high school principal and then go on his way.

Satisfied with his plan, he checked the directions and headed toward The Inn at Eagle Point. As he drove along the winding road, he couldn’t help noticing the nearby bay, and once more Liz’s mention of Thomas O’Brien’s passion for that body of water slipped past his defenses. He pieced her words together with what little his mother had told him over the years and wondered what it must be like to be so idealistic that a cause mattered more than people, more than a son. If he left, he’d never know the answer to that.

“Stop it!” he muttered, as emphatic with himself as Liz had been with Archie earlier. The decision was made.

Somehow, though, it didn’t seem quite as valid as when he’d first reached it.

* * *

When Liz got home that night, Archie, Sasha and Dominique met her at the door of her little bungalow across the street from Dogwood Hill. The two terrier mixes that she’d rescued soon after coming to Chesapeake Shores might be small compared to Archie, but there was little question about who the alpha dogs were in her home. Girls ruled! After a few failed attempts to herd them, Archie had acquiesced to their dominance.

Now he sat quietly by and waited for his turn to get Liz’s attention. Then all three dogs trailed her into the kitchen, where her imperial majesty, a one-eared Siamese known as Anastasia, regarded them all with a superior look as she sat beside her kitty dish awaiting dinner. When Liz once again tried a less-expensive brand of cat food, Anastasia regarded her with an accusing look and turned up her nose.

“I don’t even know why I try,” Liz grumbled. “Other than the fact that this other stuff is going to bankrupt me.” Even so, she dumped the rejected food in the garbage and replaced it with the cat’s preferred brand.

As she looked around her small, but nicely updated kitchen, the mismatched group of strays brought a smile to Liz’s lips.

“Bree’s wrong,” she told them emphatically as she doled out more hugs and scratches behind the ears, then dished up dinner for the dogs. “You guys are all the companionship I need.”

But even as she said the words, an image of Aidan Mitchell crept in to make her blood pump just a little faster. And that was exactly why she had to stay far, far away from him.

2 (#ulink_b6df8659-c8bd-51c7-ad20-dd7218be9e14)

Aidan was staring out the window of the restaurant at The Inn at Eagle Point with its unobstructed view of the bay, nursing his second cup of coffee after a surprisingly excellent breakfast, when a shadow loomed over the table. He looked up to find a man standing there, hand outstretched, a welcoming expression on his face.

“Mick O’Brien, son. And you’re Aidan Mitchell,” he said confidently. “Welcome to Chesapeake Shores.” Without asking, he pulled out a chair and sat. “I’ve been expecting your call since yesterday.”

For an instant Aidan couldn’t find his voice. This man was his uncle! He had absolutely no experience with extended family beyond his maternal grandparents, and no experience at all when it came to his paternal family. Obviously his decision to get out of town without crossing paths with any O’Briens hadn’t taken into account Mick O’Brien’s determination to court him for this job. Aidan wasn’t sure what his real role had been in the search for a new coach, but he’d been aggressive once Aidan had submitted his application.

When Aidan had called the school yesterday to confirm the appointment with the principal for this morning, he’d been told yet again how eager everyone—especially the town’s founder—was to close the deal. The enthusiasm had been rewarding, but disconcerting given his determination to leave without signing on for the job.

Mick glanced around for a waiter, then stood up and grabbed a cup from a neighboring table and poured himself some coffee from the pot the waiter had left earlier. As he stirred in some sugar, Aidan surreptitiously studied him, wondering how much Mick might resemble his brother and trying to decide if he saw anything of himself in the man.

After years of wondering and getting only evasive answers from his mother when it came to his father’s identity, Aidan had finally found the O’Brien name when he’d come across his birth certificate while cleaning out his mother’s dresser after her death last summer. There were a couple of clippings about Chesapeake Shores and the bay preservation foundation, as well.

Over the years he’d been told that his father had been a good man who had important things to accomplish. His mother had never mentioned what those things might be. Those clippings she’d tucked away were the first clues he’d had.

Nor had she ever hinted that they’d parted as anything other than friends. To Aidan’s knowledge his father had never contributed a dime to his support. In fact, given his mother’s independent streak and a few indiscreet comments from his grandparents about her pride, he’d concluded that she’d never even told him about the pregnancy. Surely, though, if he’d been such a paragon, Thomas O’Brien must have suspected. Then again, Aidan had known his share of men who were capable of being oblivious to anything that didn’t fit conveniently into their plans.

So even though Anna Mitchell had tried to impart an image of a mysterious but kindly individual, resentments had simmered inside Aidan. He’d grown up wondering why he and his mom hadn’t been more important than some idealistic goal in his dad’s life. And, since his mother had never had another serious relationship to his knowledge, he had to wonder about the man who’d meant so much to her that she’d never moved on.

“You okay?” Mick asked, regarding him with concern. “You look a little pale. You’re not coming down with something, are you? We have a real good doctor here in town. I can take you by his office if you want to be checked out.”

Aidan quickly shook his head. “No, sorry. I’m fine. You just caught me by surprise. I spent yesterday getting to know the town. I gave the principal at the school a call late in the day to confirm our appointment for this morning. He must have told you I was here.”

Mick grinned. “Not necessary. There aren’t a lot of secrets in Chesapeake Shores and you’re big news. I knew five minutes after you drove into town.” He shrugged. “Besides, my daughter Jess owns this place. She gave me a call right after you checked in. I would have popped in right then, but she told me you seemed a little distracted and to give you time to relax. For once, I listened to her—and my wife—and didn’t come barging right over. To tell you the truth, Megan—that’s my wife—is usually right about these things, though if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Aidan recalled the friendly woman at the desk. So, that had to be Jess, another O’Brien, a cousin apparently.

Before Aidan could respond, Mick glanced pointedly at his empty plate. “If you’re ready to go now, I’ll drive you over to the high school. We’re all anxious to get the ball rolling, get a contract nailed down. Then I can show you a couple of places around town that are for sale. There’s not much to rent. Buying makes more sense, anyway.”

Aidan couldn’t help wondering if Mick was such a successful architect and developer because he was part bulldozer. “There’s no offer on the table, and I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” he reminded Mick, thinking that saying no was going to prove a lot trickier than he’d anticipated.

“I think you’ll like the terms,” Mick said confidently. “It’s a great little town. The school has resources to pay you decently and get you whatever you need. The stadium’s first-rate. I did my homework and brought in a top-notch designer, since it’s beyond my area of expertise. I put my best contractors to work on it a few years back, but if there’s anything we missed, you just let me know. I’ve got some grandkids who’re going to want to play ball and I want the best for them and that includes a coach who can turn this team around. I know it’s politically correct to say that winning’s not everything, but these lopsided losses are discouraging.”

Aidan imagined that was a serious understatement. He’d studied the team’s record, not a win in the past five years. He decided to focus on the stadium, which was a real positive.

“To be honest, I’ve seen a few college and even pro stadiums that weren’t that impressive,” Aidan told him. “You did a great job.”

In fact, if it hadn’t been for all the peripheral angst attached to this particular job, it would have been a dream, no question about it. Aidan couldn’t imagine anyplace else where he’d be given carte blanche to invigorate a high school football program with whatever it took to make it successful. Those resources usually came at the college level.

Still he said, “One step at a time. Let’s have that meeting and see how it goes. You know I don’t have a track record coaching high school football. You may decide I’m not right for the job.”

“Not a chance,” Mick said. “I’ve done my homework. I know you were a leader in the locker room and not just on the field. That, along with the recommendations from your coaches, speaks highly of you.”

Aidan couldn’t help feeling flattered, but he couldn’t let himself be swayed. “Okay, let’s say I do say yes, I have one question for you in the meantime.” He was hoping the answer would solidify his resolve. The last thing any coach needed was too many bosses micromanaging his decisions.

“What’s that?” Mick asked as they walked outside into the warm spring sunshine and headed toward a large and surprisingly muddy truck that had obviously seen some time on a work site recently.

“If I take this job, exactly who do I answer to? The principal, the school board or you?”