Willow Brook Road(12)

“Oh, sweetie, you already know what I’m going to tell you,” Caitlyn said, sounding worried. “Stay far, far away from this situation. You’ll get sucked in. I know you will, and there’s a very good chance you’ll get your heart broken.”

“How can you say that? He obviously needs help.”

“Not from you,” Cait insisted. “You’re vulnerable. You want a family too much. He’ll take advantage of that.”

“Nobody’s going to take advantage of me,” Carrie replied irritably.

“Marc did,” Cait reminded her gently.

“That was different.”

“It was,” her sister agreed. “He didn’t have a child to sweeten the appeal.”

“You’re wrong,” Carrie said. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Don’t hang up angry,” Cait pleaded. “Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”

No, Carrie thought with a sigh. She was saying so much more. Worse, just like Luke, she was probably right.





3

Sam put the dinner he’d ordered at O’Brien’s into the backseat of his SUV next to Bobby. The boy had been sleeping while he was talking to Carrie Winters, but he was wide-awake now and looking around with a curious expression.

“Are we home yet?” he asked Sam, his tone plaintive.

“Just about, buddy. We’ll be home in a couple of minutes. I stopped long enough to pick up some dinner for us.”

“Where? I don’t see McDonald’s.”

Sam pointed to O’Brien’s. “See the restaurant right across the street? Dinner came from there and it’s going to be delicious. I’m told there might even be some homemade cookies in the bag for dessert.”

“How come you didn’t take me with you?”

“You were sleeping.”

Bobby’s expression turned serious. “Mommy never left me alone in the car. She said it was too dangerous, even when I told her I was big enough to take care of myself.”

Once again, all of his shortcomings as a prospective father slapped Sam in the face. He’d discovered that no one could induce guilt quite like a six-year-old...except, perhaps, an indignant, red-haired stranger.

“Your mom was absolutely right, but you were just a few yards away and right where I could see you the whole time I was inside the restaurant,” Sam said in his own defense. He wondered if that sounded as hollow to Bobby as it obviously had to Carrie Winters?

“And Chesapeake Shores is a lot safer than the city, even one as safe as Louisville,” he added for good measure.

“Does that mean I can play outside by myself?” Bobby asked hopefully. “Mommy never let me do that. She said I always had to be with a grown-up.”

That sounded just like Laurel, Sam thought. As far back as he could remember she’d been making up rules and issuing orders. As a kid he’d resented it, but with the hindsight of maturity, he could see that she’d been trying to make up for the chaos of their family life. It had been her self-assigned task to protect him. Recalling how often they’d butted heads and recognizing now how good her intentions had been brought the sting of tears to his eyes. How had he let some stupid argument come between them?

“We’ll have to work that out,” Sam hedged, fighting tears as he drove along the curving, waterfront road to the Inn at Eagle Point. He’d vowed not to show any sign of weakness in front of his nephew. Bobby needed to believe in him.

“First we need to get you enrolled in school, so you can make lots of new friends this fall,” Sam continued, injecting an upbeat note into his voice. “And we need to find a real house so you can have your own room and maybe even a big yard to play in.”

Bobby’s eyes widened. “You don’t live in a house?”

“Not yet. I just moved here, remember? I’m staying at an inn. It looks just like a great big house, though.”

“I went to a hotel once. Is it like that?” His eyes brightened with excitement. “Does it have room service?”

“I haven’t tried it, but I imagine it does. We can check that out in the morning. I know it has a dining room with lots of windows so you can see the bay and all the big birds like osprey and eagles. I can say for a fact that the pancakes are really, really good.”

The last hint of Bobby’s uncertainty vanished completely. “I love pancakes,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. “Mommy only made them on Sundays, though.”

“Well, here you can have them any day you want them,” Sam promised. “At least as long as we’re at the inn.”