Driftwood Cottage

Mick’s smile faded at the barb. “You’re probably right. And it was my loss. I thank God every day that I have another chance with these boys.”

Up until now Davy and Henry had been totally absorbed with watching the water for some evidence that fish were nearby. When they looked up and spotted Connor, grins broke across their faces. Here was the uncle who was more grown-up playmate than authority figure.

“Uncle Connor, sit with us,” Davy pleaded. “You can put the worms on my line.”

“Big boys put their own bait on the hooks,” Mick told him firmly. “I just showed you how to do it.”

Davy wrinkled his nose. “But it’s yucky.”

Connor grinned. “That it is. Give me a minute with your granddad and little Mick, then I’ll come help you.”

While listening to the exchange, Mick studied Connor curiously. “What brings you home? Were we expecting you?”

“Do I need to make a reservation these days?” Connor asked defensively. For a time he’d been banished from his home for trying to interfere in his father’s plan to wed his mother again, but he’d thought his exile was in the past. In fact, he’d even moved in for a time when Heather had left his son here for several weeks. He’d commuted to work in Baltimore during that time.

“Of course you don’t need a reservation,” Mick said impatiently. “You just haven’t come back here since the wedding. Or should I say since Heather took your boy to be with her?”

“I was persuaded that I was overdue for a visit,” Connor admitted wryly.

Mick chuckled. “Then the mission was a success. You can thank your mother for pulling that together.”

Connor frowned. “Mom sent Kevin and the others to Baltimore? I’d figured you were behind it.”

“Not this time. It was your mother who planted a few seeds here and there,” Mick admitted.

“I suppose it was all about getting me down here so I could discover that Heather’s living in town with my son.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Mick agreed.

Connor directed a sour look at his father. “It’s not going to work, you know.”

Mick reached over to put another worm on Davy’s hook when he saw the boy struggling with it, then glanced up at Connor. “What’s not going to work?”

“Throwing Heather and me together. We’re not getting married.”

Mick shrugged. “Up to you, though it seems a shame for this boy of yours not to have a full-time daddy in his life.” He frowned at Connor. “And before you say a word, I may have been gone too much, but I was a full-time father, and all of you knew it.”

Back on the defensive, Connor said, “My son knows I love him.”

“How’s he supposed to know a thing like that when he never sees you?”

“I see him all the time,” Connor said. “Heather brought him for a visit just last week.”

“For an hour or two, I’ll bet,” Mick scoffed. “What kind of parenting is that?”

“He’s little more than a year old,” Connor protested. “Right now he needs his mother more than he needs me. When he’s a little older, he’ll spend more time with me.”

“And he’ll still grow up to complain that he hardly knew his daddy,” Mick said, then held up a hand to forestall Connor’s retort. “Pot calling the kettle black, I know, but that makes me the voice of experience. Don’t let these precious years pass by without being a part of them. Learn from my mistakes.”

Connor considered another quick, heated comeback, but instead dropped down onto the dock next to little Mick. “Hey, buddy, catch anything?”

His son gave him a wide grin and happily waved his tiny fishing rod in the air. He crawled off Mick’s lap to lean into Connor’s side, snuggling close, and reminding Connor in ways that Mick’s words never could, of just what his stubbornness was costing him.

When the quilt shop had emptied of customers around lunchtime, Heather called next door and reached Megan. “Do you have a minute?”

“Jane’s about to go pick up a couple of sandwiches, so I can’t leave just now. What’s going on?”

“Could you just meet me out front? We’ll both be able to see if any customers come this way.”

“Sure. Do you want Jane to bring back something for you, too?”

Food was the last thing on Heather’s mind. All she’d been able to think about for the past hour was Connor’s unexpected appearance earlier.

“If she’s going to Sally’s, have her bring me back a tuna fish sandwich on a croissant,” she said eventually. “I’ll bring the money outside with me now.”

“Will do. See you in a minute,” Megan promised.

One of the improvements the town had made along Main Street and Shore Road had been to add benches in front of many of the shops. It allowed weary shoppers to rest for a few minutes, but even more essential, it allowed bored husbands to relax outside, instead of pacing around casting daunting looks that cut short their wives’ shopping sprees.

Though the sun was warm, the breeze off the bay was cool. Heather pulled on a sweater, then sat outside to wait for Megan. When Connor’s mother joined her, she sighed as she sat down.

“This feels so good,” Megan said. “I’ve been on my feet all morning. I shouldn’t complain, because that means business has been good. How about you? Were you busy?”

“Swamped,” Heather said. “Mostly lookers, but I did have a couple of nice sales.”

Megan regarded her intently. “Then why don’t you look happier?”

“Connor’s here,” she announced, watching Megan closely for a reaction.

“Really? He didn’t let any of us know he was coming.”

“But you knew he might be coming home, didn’t you? You don’t sound all that surprised.”

Megan shrugged. “I hoped he’d be home soon, of course, but I didn’t know his plans.”

Heather still didn’t believe Megan was as clueless as she was pretending to be. “Why didn’t you warn me? He walked in here this morning, spoiling for a fight. I’m not even sure how he knew this shop was mine, since you said you hadn’t told him.”

“I hadn’t said a word,” Megan reiterated. “He might have recognized the quilt in the window. Didn’t you tell me it used to hang on the wall in your apartment?”

Heather couldn’t believe Connor had paid that much attention to the quilt she’d made. When she’d worked on it in the evenings, his head had mostly been buried in law books. He’d barely even commented when she’d hung it in their townhouse.

“I suppose it’s possible,” she conceded slowly. “Are you sure you didn’t let something slip about the shop?”

“I told you I wouldn’t,” Megan said, clearly not taking offense at the question. “But I did warn you he was bound to find out about it sooner or later. Is he upset?”

Heather nodded. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s because it caught him off guard or because I’m here in his town.”

“Probably a little of both,” Megan assessed. “Did you talk?”