Sherryl Woods

Dogwood Hill


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I’m just giving you a push in the direction you want to go, anyway.” Then she literally gave Liz a gentle shove. “Go. Save him.”

      Liz crossed the room and caught Aidan’s eye. “Could I speak to you a moment?”

      Mick gave her a startled look that quickly turned speculative. “We can talk more later,” he told Aidan at once. “Never turn down a pretty woman’s invitation.”

      Aidan regarded her with an expression of relief. “Thank you,” he said as Mick moved away.

      “I wasn’t sure you needed rescuing, but I recall how I felt after my first half hour with a houseful of O’Briens. Would you like a little fresh air?”

      “I’d love some,” Aidan admitted, following her outside to a porch lined with rockers and Adirondack chairs facing the bay.

      Liz gestured toward the chairs. “We could sit here or we could walk. Dinner’s not for another half hour and since most of the kids are outside playing, Nell always rings a very loud bell to get everyone’s attention.”

      “Then let’s walk,” Aidan said. As they reached the edge of the wide expanse of lawn and stood looking out at the bay, he turned to her. “Who’s Nell? I don’t think I’ve met her. Mick’s wife is Megan, right?”

      “Exactly. Nell is Mick’s mother. This may be his house, but, trust me, when it comes to meals, she’s in charge. And her food is worth whatever chaos guests might have to deal with.”

      “You must be a regular,” he said. “How’d that happen?”

      “I take in stray animals. The O’Briens take in stray residents. Bree brought me home one Sunday right after I opened my shop and I’ve been coming ever since. Not every week, but enough to feel more or less comfortable with the intrusive questions and well-meant advice.”

      She studied him as he stood beside her, hands shoved in his pockets, his well-toned shoulders looking oddly tense. “You’re not nervous about all this, are you? It’s clear you have the upper hand. Mick really wants you to accept this job. Or is that the problem? Are you feeling pressured?”

      “Of course not,” he scoffed. “It might be my first coaching job, but I have the credentials. I’m up to it. I’m just not convinced it’s the right fit.”

      “Why is that?” she asked, startled. “You don’t like Chesapeake Shores?”

      “I’m sure it’s a great little town,” he responded.

      “Little being the operative word, I imagine,” she said, taking offense on behalf of the town. “This is not some backwoods community in the middle of nowhere. We have great people and great restaurants. We have a playwright whose work had been produced on Broadway, Mick’s daughter Bree, in fact. We have a top country music songwriter, too, and her husband is a Grammy-winning singer. They keep a home here and come back from Nashville whenever they can.”

      Aidan smiled. “Do you belong to the Chamber of Commerce?”

      “Yes, of course, but I’m telling you this so you’ll understand that Chesapeake Shores is a wonderful place to live, even if it’s not New York.”

      “I never meant to imply that it wasn’t,” Aidan told her. “It just may not be right for me. We’ll have to see.”

      Liz didn’t entirely believe his declaration of open-mindedness, but she had no idea why. Nor did she think these nerves she sensed were about his capability as a coach or whether the town was a good fit for him. Still, she let the subject drop.

      “Have you met the whole family?” she asked instead.

      He relaxed a little and laughed. “I have no idea. I met what seemed like a hundred people in there. Is that all of them?”

      “I think most of Mick’s immediate family was there, but his brother Jeff and his family were just coming up the walk when we came outside. Come to think of it, I didn’t see Jo—that’s Jeff’s wife—with them. I don’t think I saw Thomas inside, but he could have been in the kitchen with Nell or somewhere in the yard playing catch with his son and some of the other kids.”

      An odd expression passed over Aidan’s face, just as it had the other day. This time she knew she wasn’t wrong about what she was seeing. She hesitated, then asked, “Do you already know some of the family?”

      “No, why?”

      “Because you reacted just now when I mentioned Thomas. You did the same thing the other day when the O’Brien name came up. What am I missing?”

      “You’re imagining things,” Aidan said, though his tone wasn’t the least bit convincing.

      “Aidan, if there’s something you’re not saying, if there’s some history here or bad blood or something, maybe it is the wrong place for you. The town is overrun with O’Briens and they stick together. You need to understand that and be sure of your decision.”

      He gave her a long, inscrutable look before answering. “I’m not sure of anything,” he said quietly.

      And, just like before, he turned and walked away, leaving her with a whole slew of troubling questions.

      * * *

      Though she sat next to Aidan at dinner, Liz was all too aware that he carefully avoided making conversation with her. In fact, he was fairly quiet, responding only when asked a direct question. He seemed content to let the nonstop chatter and laughter swirl around him.

      She also thought she caught his gaze straying more than once toward Thomas O’Brien, but maybe that was because her imagination had gone into overdrive following their talk outside.

      As soon as the meal ended, she went in search of Nell to thank her for another incredible meal, then to say her goodbyes to Megan and Mick. She thought she’d be home free and able to make a quick escape after that, but Mick drew her aside.

      “So?” he asked. “How’s Aidan leaning? Is he going to take the job or not?”

      Liz regarded him with amusement. “What makes you think I have any inside knowledge?”

      “The two of you were outside for a while. Looked to me as if you were talking pretty seriously about something.”

      “You were spying on us?” she asked with a scowl, though she wasn’t the least bit surprised. Of course Mick had been keeping a close eye on them. That was who he was, a man who paid close attention to the things that mattered to him.

      “I don’t spy,” he objected, then sighed. “You know how much the school needs him, Liz. Did he give you any hint about which way he’s leaning?”

      “Not really,” she said, though her gut was telling her Aidan was going to walk away. She didn’t want to be the one to break that news to Mick, not when she wasn’t certain of it. Who knew what sort of pressure he might decide to pour on the poor unsuspecting man?

      “Can I give you a bit of advice?” she asked Mick.

      “Why not? You’re practically part of the family, and heaven knows, not a one of them keeps a single opinion to themselves.”

      Liz laughed, knowing it was a genetic predisposition of the O’Briens to share advice whether it was wanted or not.

      “Give the man some space,” she suggested to Mick. “He seems to be weighing this decision. Too much pressure might have the opposite effect of what you’re hoping for.”

      “He’ll never find a better opportunity,” Mick said. “He needs to understand that.”

      “That may be,” Liz conceded. “And I’m hardly an expert on Aidan Mitchell, but I think overselling the job could backfire.”

      She glanced across the room to where Aidan was talking to Mack Franklin. Whatever the conversation, his expression was animated and he looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. She had