Driftwood Cottage. Sherryl Woods
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Heather?” Megan asked, her expression filled with concern.
“I drove her home,” he told his mother. “She apologizes for running out. She wasn’t feeling well.”
“Feeling left out, more than likely,” Mick said, showing surprising insight for a man who was usually oblivious to subtleties.
From across the table, Abby scowled at him. “Connor, I just don’t understand why you’re being so pigheaded. Anyone can see that you love this woman.”
“I do,” he agreed readily. “It’s not enough.”
“Well, of course it’s not,” Mick said with undisguised disgust. “She had your baby. She has a right to expect you to make an honest woman of her. That’s what I expect from you, too.” He frowned at Connor. “And I don’t want to hear any more of this garbage about not believing in marriage.”
“Well, I don’t,” Connor said belligerently, turning to the rest of his family. “No offense intended to those of you who do. You get to live your lives the way you want to. Show me the same courtesy.”
“Even if your stance is costing you the woman you claim to love and your son?” Thomas asked mildly. “Everyone here just wants to see you happy. If you can tell us that you are, then God bless.”
“Well?” Mick prodded, picking up where Thomas had left off. “Let’s hear how happy you are.”
Connor remained stubbornly silent. Only the knowledge that bolting from the room would be an act of cowardice kept him in place.
“Enough,” his grandmother said. “Connor has to find his own way, the same as the rest of you have. Megan, Jess, why don’t you clear the table, and I’ll bring out the pie and ice cream.”
Relieved to have a reprieve, Connor sighed. Kevin gave him an amused look.
“You don’t actually think you’re off the hook, do you?” his big brother asked.
“I was hoping,” Connor admitted.
“Not likely,” Trace told him.
“In fact, something tells me the crowd’s just getting warmed up,” Jake added.
Sensing unity, Mick gave him a benevolent look. “You won’t win this one, Connor. Marry the woman.”
“Even if I think marriage inevitably leads to heartache?” he asked. “Even though I see proof of that every single day?” He turned to his uncle. “What about you? Back me up here. You’ve divorced twice. You know a piece of paper doesn’t guarantee anything.”
Thomas gave him a pitying look. “Being married was the happiest time of my life. I loved both of my wives. You won’t find me arguing against the potential joy of marriage. When it works, it’s worth every bit of struggle it takes to get it right.”
“And yet, here you are, with us on a Sunday afternoon,” Connor retorted.
“And I’d give anything to have it otherwise,” Thomas said. “I’d go back to either one of my wives, if they’d have me, but sadly I burned those bridges. If the opportunity arises and I find another woman to love, it won’t take me but a minute to take that walk down the aisle again.”
“Don’t say that in front of Gram,” Kevin warned. “You know how she feels about divorce because of the church. In her eyes, Dad and Mom were never divorced in the first place, so that wedding they had back on New Year’s Eve was nothing but a renewal of vows. She’s probably lighting candles right and left for you after two divorces.”
Thomas grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve heard Ma’s opinion on the subject more than once. I’m just saying that when it comes to marriage, I’m a believer. People were meant to go through life with a partner at their side who loves them unconditionally.”
“Yet another triumph of hope over reality,” Connor said cynically.
Again, Thomas’s expression was filled with pity. “What do any of us have if we don’t have hope?” he asked. “Why, even at the bottom of Pandora’s box, there was hope.”
Connor glanced around the table, looking for an ally, but everyone there was nodding at Thomas’s remark. Abby grinned at him.
“You’re outnumbered, little brother. Give in gracefully.”
“Never,” he said out of habit. Let them all live their lives blinded to the pitfalls of marriage. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. For every happy couple they could point to, even in this room, he could find another five who were miserable. If they spent even a day in his office, listening to one tale of misery and heartbreak after another, they’d be stripped of these rose-colored glasses they were wearing.
“Live in your dream world,” he told them, standing up. “I’m going upstairs to check on my son.”
“You’ll miss Gram’s pie,” Bree said, looking shocked. “You never miss Gram’s pie.”
“The peace and quiet will be worth the sacrifice,” he declared. “Just be sure there’s a slice left over for me to take to Heather later.”
A grin spread across his sister’s face, as she patted her belly. “But I can have yours, right? After all, I’m eating for two.”
Despite his sour mood, Connor chuckled. “It’s all yours, Bree, as long as Jake thinks he can roll you home after lunch.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Jake said, sliding an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That’s why I brought along the wheelbarrow.”
Bree poked him in the ribs. “You’ll pay for that.”
Connor regarded them triumphantly. “See what I mean? A couple of ill-considered words here and there, and even the happiest marriage can teeter on the brink.”
Bree gazed up at her husband with a totally smitten expression. “I don’t think you have to worry about that with us, little brother. We’re in this for the duration.”
“Amen to that,” Jake agreed, kissing her soundly. “The occasional spat or even a poke in the ribs just livens things up.”
A grin spread across Bree’s face. “We get lively all the time.”
“Which is how she ended up pregnant,” Jake said.
Connor listened to the exchange, expecting to hear a false note, something to indicate that things weren’t as rosy as Bree and Jake would have everyone believe. Apparently they were exactly as they appeared to be, blissfully happy.
And he was happy for them. He really was, even if it put a tiny nick in his rock-solid theory. After all, every rule had its exceptions.
5
After drying off and changing her clothes, Heather went downstairs to the store just as she’d told Connor she’d planned to do. Truthfully, her motivation was less about the work that needed to be done than it was about not being in her apartment when Connor returned with little Mick. Right now that apartment was her haven, someplace with no memories whatsoever of Connor. It was exactly what she needed if she was to have her fresh start.
If Connor visited, even for a few minutes, there was a huge risk that it could change the way she felt about her new home. She’d have to grapple with images of him being there, seated, if only for moments, on her new sofa. His scent might linger in the cushions. It was hard enough to keep him out of her head as it was. That’s why she hadn’t let him past the threshold when he’d arrived unexpectedly earlier.
Downstairs, she spent an hour on paperwork, opened a box of new fabric and put the bolts on display, then found herself at loose ends. She picked up the quilt she’d promised to make for Megan, another Chesapeake Shores scene, this time of the family’s home overlooking the