Sherryl Woods

The Summer Garden


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“You miss him,” her grandfather concluded. “I saw the way of things before he left. Did you speak of the future?”

       She shook her head, oddly humiliated by the admission. “That makes me a total ninny, doesn’t it? I shouldn’t be pinning so much on a man who’s said nothing about tomorrow, much less the future.”

       He laughed. “You’re hardly a ninny. Speaking about feelings, especially when a relationship is new and not fully tested, doesn’t come easily. For what it’s worth, I saw the same sparks in his eyes that I saw in yours.”

       She wanted so desperately to believe him, but even she knew that sparks didn’t always lead to something more. From everything she’d heard, her mum had been totally gaga over her dad and vice versa, but their marriage had lasted only until her mum came home from the hospital with her, their third child, and apparently her dad’s breaking point. She’d seen him once or twice over the years, but there was no bond, just some shared DNA.

       “Have you spoken to Luke since he left?” her grandfather asked.

       “Just once. He called to let me know he’d arrived.”

       Dillon frowned. “And nothing since?”

       “Emails, of course, but it’s not the same as hearing his voice, if you know what I mean.”

       “I do,” he admitted. “Nell’s been sending letters and postcards from Chesapeake Shores, but it’s an unsatisfying substitute. After a week or two of that, I started calling simply to hear the sound of her voice.”

       Moira was surprised that he understood so well. “I imagine her letters are full of news about the family,” she suggested tentatively.

       Her grandfather smiled. “She’s mentioned Luke a few times, if that’s what you’re asking. It seems he’s totally absorbed in this plan of his to open a pub.” He regarded her curiously. “You knew about that?”

       “We talked about it. It’s the reason we traveled, so he could do some research.”

       “Has he been keeping you up-to-date on his progress?”

       “He mentions it but, to be honest, he doesn’t say much about anything. He sounds busy and distracted.” She regarded her grandfather worriedly. “Do you think I was nothing more than a passing fancy, then?” she asked, unable to keep a note of fear out of her voice. Normally, it would have taken torture for her to admit to even a hint of insecurity, but she sensed that her grandfather wouldn’t judge her. She could let down her guard with him in ways she never had with anyone else. “Will I just fade in his memory as time passes?”

       Luke was the first man ever to fight through that wall she’d built around herself, the one meant to keep everyone out. He’d done it with patience, persistence and kindness, teasing her unmercifully until she’d no longer been able to maintain the angry, rebellious facade that she’d worn like a defensive cloak for most of her life. To find out it had all meant nothing would be heartbreaking.

       “I don’t think that’s the kind of man he is,” her grandfather said, his expression filled with compassion. “And if he says he’s busy, I’m sure that’s the truth. Men tend to get absorbed in their work to the exclusion of all else, especially when they’re at the beginning of something. I imagine he has quite a lot at stake, not just financially, but emotionally as well. Men feel a need to prove themselves, especially in a family like his with so many high achievers.”

       Moira felt reassured by the explanation. She’d been telling herself much the same thing, but wasn’t sure if she was only deluding herself. In most cases, she would have written off a man who treated her in such a cavalier way, but her stubborn, captivated heart wasn’t yet ready to give up on Luke.

       Her grandfather gave her a commiserating look. “I have a thought about how we can find out.”

       “What?” she inquired suspiciously. “I’m not going to ring him up and demand to know where we stand. That would be too pitiful. Why would I want someone who doesn’t want me, anyway?”

       “A strong and proper stance to take,” Dillon agreed. “Add in the distance between you, and it will guarantee that you never learn the truth of things.”

       She heard something in his words that stirred the faintest hint of excitement. “What are you suggesting?”

       “As you know, I’m leaving in two weeks to spend some time with Nell in Chesapeake Shores, to experience her world firsthand. I was thinking it’s a long trip for a man my age to take alone, especially when there’s a lovely young woman who might like to go along.”

       Moira stared at him incredulously. “You want me to go with you to America?” Her mind raced ahead at the thought, imagining Luke’s welcome, the way he’d draw her into a warm embrace. It would be her fantasy come true!

       “Unless you’ve other, more important plans,” her grandfather said, his eyes twinkling. “I know you’ve just started work at the pub. And, of course, you could stay and finally take those courses you never finished because you said school was a waste of your time. If you’d prefer that, I’d back you a hundred percent, of course.”

       “I was wasting my time at school,” she said at once. The thought of abandoning her job at the pub was more worrisome, especially with the possibility of getting some additional real work as a photographer on the horizon. Still, how could she resist this chance to see Luke, to find out where they stood?

       “I’ll go with you,” she said decisively.

       “Then it’s settled,” he said, smiling at her.

       “But it’s not because of Luke,” she declared quite firmly. “It’s the chance to travel with you.”

       “Of course it is,” her grandfather agreed soberly.

       But even Moira couldn’t miss the disbelieving sparkle in his eyes. Nor could she deny that yet again he understood her better than anyone else ever had.

       Breaking the news to Peter was harder than Moira had expected it to be, especially when his first words to her were about the photographs she’d dropped off the day before.

       “They’re amazing, Moira. You’ve a real gift for this. I’ve already taken them in to be framed. They should be back and ready to hang by next week. I imagine you’ll have people ringing you up to shoot their weddings and their babies in no time at all. In fact, I showed them to Tara O’Rourke just yesterday. Her daughter’s getting married in a month, and she’s eager to hire you for the wedding pictures. And I’ve word of a baby shower, too, if you’re interested.”

       She stared at him in amazement, basking in the warm glow of finally accomplishing something of which she could be proud, something even her mum couldn’t deny was a success. “Are you serious?”

       He laughed at her shock. “I’m already preparing myself to lose you as a waitress in here. You won’t have time for this.”

       “But I’m an amateur,” she protested, still afraid that Peter had it all wrong. Tara O’Rourke was probably just looking to keep expenses low with a first-time photographer. The same was probably true for whoever was planning that baby shower.

       “You may be an amateur now, but you have an ear for listening and figuring out who people are and getting them to relax enough so you can capture it on film,” Peter said confidently. “You’ll make a career of this, if it’s what you want.”

       She thought about that. Was it what she wanted? She couldn’t deny being intrigued by the possibility. How long had she waited for some hint about what her niche in life was meant to be? But why now, of all times? She couldn’t give up this chance to go to America, to see Luke again. And it was only for a month’s time.

       She explained her plans to Peter. “I’m sorry. All of this came up just yesterday. I had no idea my grandfather would want me along on this trip. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime for someone like