Chapter 2
Kiera had seen pictures of Chesapeake Shores, some on postcards, but many more taken by her daughter. None, however, had prepared her for the tug of recognition she felt as Moira and Luke drove her through the quaint downtown area with its charming shops, circled the town green with its display of colorful tulips and then turned onto Shore Road en route to their home. To their left, the Chesapeake Bay sparkled in the sunlight. The sky above was a brilliant blue. A few impressive sailboats were taking advantage of the morning breeze.
“It’s a bit like a seaside village in Ireland, isn’t it?” she said, taking it all in. “The architecture’s very different, to be sure, but the feel of it’s the same.”
Moira beamed at her. “That’s exactly how I saw it when I first came to town. I felt at home here almost at once. And you know it was Luke’s uncle Mick O’Brien who designed it all from scratch and built on what was once farmland. He’s a famous architect, and Luke’s brother, Matthew, works for him now.”
“It’s hard to imagine having the vision to design an entire town,” Kiera said, in awe of the thought. “The villages in Ireland go back for centuries and are a hodgepodge of styles jumbled together in cozy harmony. Mick must possess an impressive imagination.”
“And I couldn’t even build a playhouse for our Kate with the design spelled out quite simply for me,” Luke told her. “I had to ask Uncle Mick and Matthew for help. It was a humbling experience.”
Kiera knew a thing or two about asking for help, no matter how needed it might be. She sympathized with him. “Did they torment you for asking?”
“My brother will never let me forget it,” Luke confirmed, then shrugged off the humiliation. “That’s okay, though. He wouldn’t know one ale from the next if I didn’t draw his attention to it. We each have our own skills.”
Kiera laughed, then noted that the comment had been made with a perfect bit of timing. “Ah, and there’s O’Brien’s,” she exclaimed as she spotted the pub. There was no mistaking its Irish heritage with its dark green sign with gold lettering. the same type of sign that could be found on nearly every corner back home. “You’ve captured the look of it exactly right,” she told Luke.
“Thank you. That was the idea.”
“Have you thought of adding window boxes overflowing with flowers beneath the windows?” Kiera asked. “That would add another authentic touch. We Irish love our flowers and any chance to display them in a profusion of color. I think they’re meant to counterpoint our gray and rainy days.”
Luke smiled. “There you are, already earning your keep as a consultant, Kiera.”
“I told you she’d be filled with ideas,” Moira said. “Just wait until you see inside, Mother. Luke imported an antique bar from a pub in Ireland that we visited. The son of the longtime owner had persuaded him to modernize. We didn’t waste breath telling him what a mistake he was making. Luke just made the deal and we rushed right out the door. You’ll swear you’re back home again.”
“And yet wasn’t the goal to give me a fresh start in a new place?” Kiera teased.
Moira regarded her with a serious expression. “But don’t you see? It will be easier if it feels at least a little bit like home. I’ve had hardly a pang of homesickness since I’ve been here.”
Kiera reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know. I was teasing you.”
To Kiera’s regret, Moira looked surprisingly startled by that.
“Really?” Moira asked, as if the concept were completely foreign to her.
Kiera sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked by your reaction. There wasn’t much lightness and laughter or teasing when you were growing up. Peter reminded me that I had buried my sense of humor down deep. He helped me recover it. He reminded me that laughter is a gift that gets us through the difficult times. I’d like to hold on to that bit of wisdom at least, now that he’s left us.”
Moira’s eyes immediately turned misty. “Mum, I’m so sorry he’s gone.”
“So am I. On my good days I’m determined to hang on to the positive memories and treasure the changes he brought to my life. At first I wasn’t sure I could do that, but it’s almost as if I hear him whispering in my ear that I must, that I can’t retreat back into my old ways.” She gave her daughter a knowing look. “Believe me, I know that’s a concern for you and your grandfather, as well.”
“We’ll help with it,” Moira promised. “And Kate will be the answer to your prayers. It’s hard to go more than a minute without smiling at something she’s done. She’s such a blessing.”
“I can’t wait to meet my very first grandchild,” Kiera told her. “Imagine me, old enough to be a grandmother. There was many a day I wasn’t sure I’d survive being a mother, and here you are, a mother yourself and a successful photographer.”
Luke stopped again in front of a storefront down the block from the pub. There were several stunning, very modern paintings in the windows. Though Kiera knew nothing of art at all, the wildness of these spoke to her on some level she couldn’t entirely explain. It was as if she’d experienced the emotions they evoked so vibrantly.
“This is where Moira’s works were first exhibited,” Luke said proudly. “I know Peter encouraged her, but my aunt Megan is the expert over here who discovered her photography.”
“And has nagged at me until I almost believe I have real talent,” Moira said. “I wake up some days pinching myself when I see an advertisement for my work in some famous gallery in New York or on the West Coast.”
“Peter was so proud of you,” Kiera told her. “He bragged about you to every customer who came into the pub and pointed out all of your pictures on the walls. Original works by Moira O’Brien, he’d tell them, then show them the programs from your exhibits in America. He was so pleased that you sent those to him. He loved you like a daughter, you know.”
“Stop or you’ll have me bawling,” Moira protested. “Let’s go home, Luke. I want Mum to see our house and meet our Kate. After flying all night, she’s no doubt anxious for a bit of a rest.”
“I would like nothing more than to hug my granddaughter, then have a hot shower,” Kiera admitted. “And perhaps a cup of tea. Then I’ll be ready to see your grandfather and Nell and see whatever else the day has in store.”
“Nell has invited the whole family for an afternoon barbecue in your honor,” Moira told her. “I tried to tell her it might be too overwhelming after your long flight, but she insisted. She wants you to feel welcome. And Grandfather is anxious to see for himself that you’re doing okay after everything that’s happened.”
“When am I to begin working for you, Luke, beyond suggesting window boxes as I just did? If I’m going to be here for a while, I want to pay my own way.”
If she hadn’t been watching her son-in-law so closely she might not have noticed just the slightest hesitation, the quick glance between him and Moira. “Is there some problem you haven’t mentioned?”
“Just a bit of a delay on the paperwork,” Luke said hurriedly. “My cousin says there’s nothing to worry about. Things like this are just taking longer these days. You might have to wait before officially starting on the job.”
Kiera’s spirits sank. Her fresh start was clearly more precarious than they’d led her to believe. “There’s no job?”
“Of course there’s a job,” Moira said, casting a defiant look at Luke. “It will just be unofficial for the time being. You’ll still be consulting.”
“But this consulting work will be an unpaid position?” Kiera asked, determined to clarify her status. “I’ll be living here on your charity?” It was exactly what she hadn’t wanted, to be a burden on her daughter and Luke. She’d agreed to come for a lengthy stay only because of the promise that she’d be earning her keep.
“You’re family, Kiera. There’s no charity in this,” Luke quickly assured her. “You’ll be paid for the work you do, just not as an official employee until we can work out the legalities.”
“How long might that take?”
“Connor is certain it will go smoothly,” Moira insisted.
“A few weeks at the most,” Luke said.
Kiera sighed heavily. “I see.” She’d cut her ties with home, only to find herself with an uncertain future.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Moira said. “And you’re wrong. This is going to work out. You’ll see.”
“Perhaps we should have been more certain of that before I came,” she replied wearily.
“Kiera, you can talk to Connor yourself later today,” Luke said. “He’ll be able to reassure you.”
She was suddenly far too exhausted to argue. “Then I’ll wait and see,” she said, then amended silently, and try not to feel discouraged.
But if there was no hope for a reasonably quick resolution to her work status here, then she would have to make a call to the McDonoughs and see if there was any chance she could go back to work for them in Dublin. Even if Luke and her daughter did their best to convince her that she had a place here with them, she’d spent too many years counting on no one but herself to settle for that. The fact that she could make her own way in the world was the one thing in which she’d always taken pride. Now more than ever, she needed to cling to that faith in her own abilities.
All thoughts of that discouraging news flew out the window, though, when Keira walked into Moira’s home and met her granddaughter. With her rosy, round cheeks, halo of strawberry blond curls and blue eyes welling with tears, she was the spitting image of Moira as a baby, as was the temper tantrum she was throwing.
“I’m so sorry,” the young girl who’d been babysitting said when they came in. “I wanted her to look perfect for your arrival, but she objected to me changing her, then kicked off her shoes and screamed bloody murder when I tried to put her in her playpen.”
Kiera reached for Kate anyway, feeling a tug she hadn’t felt since the first time she’d held Moira in the hospital so long ago. The baby gave her a startled look, then settled in her arms with a sleepy sigh, worn out by her tantrum.
“You’ve a golden touch,” Moira said happily. “I knew you would.”
Kiera smiled. “Experience,” she told her daughter.
Luke laughed. “So Moira’s moods started that early?”
“In the cradle,” Kiera confirmed. “And just like our Kate, it was hard to hold them against her, when she was so perfect in other ways.”
When she glanced at Moira, she saw that tears were tracking down her cheeks. “What?” she asked, worried that she’d upset her within minutes of walking in the door.
“You thought I was perfect,” Moira whispered.
“Of course I did. Now I imagine Luke sees you that way, too.”
“Love must come with blinders, then,” Moira said, smiling. “A good thing, too.”
* * *
“Kiera, love, you seem awfully quiet,” Dillon said, drawing Kiera away from the crowd of O’Briens scattered across Nell’s yard. “Are you needing a bit of a rest? I’m sure everyone would understand if you wanted to go back to Moira’s or even just inside to lie down in our guest room here for a quick nap.”
Kiera saw the genuine concern in her father’s eyes and, not for the first time today, wanted to give in and let the tears flow. She’d shed plenty when Peter first died a few months ago, but none since. And as much as she’d wanted to cry when Luke and Moira had filled her in on the delay to her work visa, she’d held back, stayed strong and hidden her panic as she’d learned to do so well over the years. She’d never wanted her children to experience every uncertainty that terrified her.
Now, though, she wanted to feel her father’s strong arms around her, comforting her as he had when she was a girl and had skinned her knee or had her heart broken. She wondered what Dillon would think if she just buried her face in his chest and sobbed, as she held on tight.
Instead, she forced a smile. “I’m okay, Dad.”
“I’m not convinced of that,” he said. “Even after all these years, I can tell when you’re in pain. And why wouldn’t you be? Peter’s death was a shock. And coming here is a huge change.” He studied her knowingly. “It’s been a while since you’ve taken so many risks at once.”
Surprised by his insight, she murmured, “You have no idea.”
“Do you think I didn’t have a few moments of uncertainty when I agreed to pick up everything and leave Ireland to be with Nell?”
She smiled at that. “You, uncertain? I can’t imagine such a thing.”
“Only a fool doesn’t have second thoughts when they risk a big change,” he told her. “The brave move forward and do it anyway, because they believe the rewards will be worth it. Having Nell with me for the rest of our lives was worth everything I gave up. And despite how it turned out, I know you’re at least a little happy that you had Peter in your life, even if it was for far too brief a time.”
A knot formed in Kiera’s throat, preventing speech, but she nodded. When she could finally find the words, she whispered, “He was the best man I’ve ever known.”
“And coming here to Chesapeake Shores will be another of those risks that will turn out well in the end,” he promised. “You’ll look back someday and be unable to imagine being anywhere else.” He glanced around until his gaze settled on Nell. His entire expression softened. “I know this is where I belong.”
Though she was touched by the sentiment in his voice and on his face, she frowned at his words. “I’m only staying temporarily,” she reminded him. “Even if that work visa finally comes through, it won’t last forever. Don’t be thinking of this move as permanent.”
“I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about that. We all are.” He beckoned a young man over. “Connor, please tell Kiera that everything will work out in the end.”
“I’m doing everything I can to speed things along,” Connor assured her.
“And I’ve made a few calls myself,” Mick O’Brien said, joining them.
Connor scowled at his father. “Dad, haven’t I warned you that your meddling with immigration could actually make things more difficult?”
Mick looked undaunted by the criticism. “Haven’t you learned by now that contacts are to be used cleverly when you have them?”
“And now I’m the cause of a family squabble,” Kiera said with regret.
All three men laughed. “Not to worry, Kiera,” Mick assured her. “Connor and I could squabble over the color of the sky. It doesn’t mean anything. One of these days he’ll come to respect my judgment, rather than taking issue with my attempts to help. I think standing his ground with me has made him far more effective in the courtroom, though I doubt he’ll admit that, either.”
“I can’t deny that I’ve had more experience at winning lively debates than most of the lawyers I encounter,” Connor said. He grinned at Mick. “I will thank you for that, at least.” He gave Kiera a reassuring look. “Stop worrying. Leave that to me.”
Mick nodded. “You are in good hands, Kiera.”
His words seemed as much of a shock to Connor as they were a reassurance to her.
“Now, why don’t we grab some of Ma’s apple pie before it’s all gone?” Mick said. “I know where there’s an extra quart of vanilla ice cream to go with it.” He feigned a dark scowl for Dillon’s benefit. “Don’t tell Ma I know about her secret stash in the spare refrigerator on the back porch.”
“Not a chance,” Dillon said. “I’m happy to learn of it myself. Now when she tells me we’re all out of my favorite ice cream, I can see for myself if she’s fibbing to keep me from overindulging.”
Kiera was swept off on the sound of the men conspiring and on the reassurance of Mick O’Brien’s confidence. She wanted desperately to believe that Connor had her situation under control, and Mick’s faith in his son made her more hopeful than she’d been just minutes ago.
* * *
For a few blissful days Kiera allowed herself to recuperate from the unfamiliar effects of jet lag. She indulged in playing with little Kate, who, as predicted, was a constant source of joy, even when her temper kicked in to remind Kiera of how impossible Moira had been at the same age and, truth be told, well beyond it.
But by the end of her first week in Chesapeake Shores, she was anxious to get to the pub and see for herself just how well Luke had re-created a bit of Ireland here on the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland.
To ensure that he couldn’t put her off yet again, she was dressed and ready by nine in the morning, the time he usually kissed Kate goodbye and headed to O’Brien’s to handle paperwork and such before the pub opened for lunch. She had Kate in her carrier, ready to go along, as well. Moira had gone off to a meeting with Megan to look through some of her latest pictures, which fit in quite nicely with Kiera’s plan.
“What’s this?” Luke asked, regarding the two of them suspiciously as they sat on the front porch when he emerged from the house.
“We thought we’d accompany you to work this morning,” Kiera said brightly. “We won’t stay too long. Moira’s just down the street meeting with Megan, so we can catch a ride home with her or walk back on our own, since it’s such a lovely spring day with not a cloud in the sky.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Clearly you’ve thought of everything.”
Kiera nodded. “I tried to be thorough.”
“So you’ve tired of just hanging around the house babysitting?”
“I will never tire of being with my precious granddaughter, but I want to see the inside of this pub of yours so I can start making a contribution. You can tell me what your needs and expectations are, as well.”
Luke nodded, an unexpected grin spreading across his face.
“What is it about this that has you smiling?” Kiera asked.
“Your daughter owes me a fancy dinner at Brady’s,” he said. “I told her your patience was unlikely to last another day. She was sure you’d make it through another week.”
“The two of you have been making bets about this?”
Luke immediately looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you that. It’s just something that we do when we see things differently, a way to take advantage of whichever one of us is proven right in the end.”
“My Moira isn’t enough of a challenge as it is?” Kiera asked.
Luke laughed. “Oh, she will never stop being a challenge, that’s for sure, but she’s mellowed since she’s been here. I think she’s mostly content with her life.”
“I’m glad for that,” Kiera told him. “She didn’t have an easy time of it growing up, between never really knowing her dad and me working nonstop just to keep our heads above water. I know she saw how bitter and resentful I was, but I doubt she realized how much of it rubbed off on her and changed her own view of the world. I’ve seen that mellowing you’re talking about since I’ve been here. I’ve heard it in her voice when we’ve talked on the phone. You, your family, this place, it’s all been good for her.”
“I think maybe it’s Megan who’s done the most for her. Learning that she has a genuine, sought-after talent has given Moira a self-confidence she was lacking when we met. She was spirited enough, but it was based on sheer grit and stubbornness. Now it’s grounded in a sense of self-worth.”
Kiera gave him an appraising look. “You know her well.”
“I love her,” he said simply. “I think I did from the day we met. Knowing her well took a little more time and a lot more understanding.”
Kiera was surprised by his openness about his feelings and his maturity. “I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know you better, Luke O’Brien. You’re a fine man.”
“We’ll see how you feel after you’ve worked with me for a time,” he said.
Kiera laughed. “I’ve worked for a tyrant or two in my day,” she said. “You’ll hold no surprises if you turn out to be another one.”
“Hopefully not a tyrant,” he said.
“We’ll see what your staff says about that,” she said. “Now tell me about them.”
On the quick drive to the pub, he ran through the short list of waitstaff, many of whom were college students working part-time. “You’ll be working most closely with the chef, Bryan Laramie,” he concluded. “Bryan’s pretty easygoing, but he considers the kitchen his domain.”
“The name doesn’t sound Irish.”
Luke chuckled at that. “No, Bryan’s a New Yorker by birth, a graduate of the Culinary Institute, who landed somehow in Baltimore working at a deli. I’ve never heard the whole story about that. He doesn’t talk much about himself or his past.”
“Isn’t a deli one of those places known for matzo ball soup and pastrami on rye sandwiches?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“Why would you hire someone like that to run the kitchen in an Irish pub?” Kiera asked.
“Of all the applicants, Moira and I liked him the best. And Nell put him to a test with some of her best recipes and he won the position hands down over two others we considered. You’ll see. He knows his way around the kitchen and we’re building something of a reputation for the quality of our food, as well as for our selection of ale and the fine Irish music we bring in on the weekends.”
“Then I’ll keep an open mind,” Kiera promised.
Luke gave her a worried look. “Kiera, O’Brien’s runs smoothly because we operate as a team. We all know our roles and respect each other’s contributions, from the waitstaff and kitchen staff all the way through to Moira and me.”
“And where exactly am I to fit in?”
“Once you’ve spent a little time learning the way we operate, getting to know our regular customers and so on, you’ll make recommendations just as any of the rest of us might. We’re always open to fresh ideas. And anything that ensures our customers of a true Irish experience will be especially welcomed. We’ll trust you about that.”
It all sounded perfectly reasonable to her, even if offering a little less control than she’d been anticipating. Still, she would have Luke’s ear if there were changes she felt needed to be made in the name of Irish authenticity.
“How will you be introducing me to the staff?” she asked. “Am I to be one of them, or a consultant only, as Moira suggested, or a nosy troublesome mother-in-law who happens to be visiting from Ireland and can’t keep her opinions to herself?”
Luke gave her a curious glance. “Are you in need of a formal title?”
“Not for my ego,” she replied tartly. “But it will be a help to all of us, if I know my place.”
“Since I can’t give you an official position just yet until Connor settles that paperwork, why don’t we just say you’re helping out and lending us your expertise from years of working in pubs in Ireland?”
Kiera nodded slowly. “So a voice, but no authority.”
“Something like that,” Luke said, his tone cautious. “Are you okay with that for now?”
“I’ll do my best to make it work,” she said. She’d spent years under similar restraint in her old job. She’d had far more freedom and say at Peter’s pub, but she could put that aside for now. At least she hoped she could, if only in the name of family harmony.
* * *
Bryan looked up from the Irish soda bread he was about to put into the oven to see Kiera Malone regarding him intently, her expression radiating disapproval.
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
“Just observing,” she said, backing off a step.
“But you have something to say. I can see that you’re practically biting your tongue. Just say it.”
Ever since Kiera had been introduced to the staff at O’Brien’s, she’d been lurking about, observing as she put it. It was driving him a little bit crazy. He didn’t like extra people milling about in his kitchen, especially with an unmistakable hint of judgment in their eyes. He’d grown used to being respected, thanks to regular praise from not only the customers, but from Nell O’Brien, who was his go-to person for inspiration with the menu and its execution.
To be fair, from what he’d seen, Kiera was a hard worker in general and she got on well enough with the customers and even the waitstaff. She wasn’t still for a minute and was always eager to take on any task that was given to her, even pitching in to help out washing dishes or scrubbing the floor after hours. All of that was admirable.
It was the way she watched him as he worked, though, that made him want to banish her from his kitchen. It was only out of respect for Luke and Moira that he’d kept his mouth shut till now and tried to accept her presence underfoot.
He studied her expression and could tell she was torn between speaking out and staying silent. “Just say whatever’s on your mind before your head explodes,” he told her impatiently.
“The soda bread is going to be hard as a rock,” she blurted finally.
He frowned at her. “And just why is that?”
“You were pounding it as if you had a grudge against it,” she told him.
Bryan drew in a deep breath to try to calm himself before he said something he’d regret. It was true, he’d been taking out his frustration over Kiera’s presence on the dough. And, quite likely, she was right. Overkneading would be the kiss of death for the soda bread. It would likely be inedible.
Rather than admitting as much, however, he simply gestured to the array of ingredients. “Would you like to show me how it’s done?”
Her expression brightened at once. “You won’t be offended?”
Given that it was his way of saving face when his own loaves of bread were tossed in the trash, no, he wouldn’t be offended at all.
“Have at it,” he said, instead. “I have other work to do if we’re to be ready when the doors open for lunch.”
When he turned back a few minutes later, Kiera was lovingly kneading the bread with a touch that stirred an annoying hint of longing. Out of the blue a shocking image of those hands on him, massaging his shoulders at the end of the day, made him more irritable than ever. Images like that were not only inappropriate, they were totally unwelcome. At this rate, the woman was going to drive him to the brink of insanity and she hadn’t even been underfoot a full week.