Lilac Lane (Chesapeake Shores #14)(15)

“After you’ve finished. A clean plate will speak volumes, too,” he told her. “Bryan might not show it, but he could use a bit of reassurance from you from time to time. Nell sings his praises, but that’s become commonplace. You’re a new test for him and one he’s not entirely sure he’s passing. He feels as if you’re judging him each time you walk into the kitchen.”

Kiera was confused. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? To find areas that need improvement?”

“Absolutely,” Luke said quickly. “And I’m sure Bryan would welcome a suggestion here and there. Have you shared your thoughts with him?”

Kiera thought of how she’d been handling things and realized she’d felt constrained by her lack of real standing. She’d observed and judged, but mostly kept her opinions to herself, storing them up for the time when she’d feel free to speak her mind. She could see now how that silence might make Bryan feel uneasy. He’d probably prefer a tart comment or two to the silence.

“I’ll try to do better at making him feel at ease,” she said, thinking of the hint of nervousness she’d noticed for the first time earlier. Perhaps she had inadvertently thrown him off his game. That had never been her intention, but they did seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. There was no denying that.

“I’d appreciate that,” Luke said, clearly satisfied by her response.

“I’ve been cautious about speaking up till now, but if I’m to be honest and more candid with him, then I can’t hold back my opinion when I think he’s gotten it wrong,” Kiera warned.

A smile tugged at her son-in-law’s lips. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” he said. “That would be as wasted an effort as asking the wind not to blow.”

Kiera laughed. It would, indeed.





Chapter 4



Rather than being stuck in his closet of an office, Luke had brought the stacks of dreaded pub paperwork that occupied way too much of his time these days to a table by the window that looked out onto the bay. That view, at least, made the prospect of spending the next couple of hours dealing with numbers and invoices slightly less daunting.

He’d barely made a dent in the work when the door at O’Brien’s opened and Moira came in with Kate in her stroller.

“Da!” Kate exclaimed ecstatically when she spotted him. She immediately held out her arms.

All thoughts of invoices and supply orders vanished as Luke reached for his daughter. His gaze, though, kept straying to his wife.

“What brings you by? Did you have a meeting with Megan? And why is this little angel with you, rather than your mother?”

“After we all had breakfast at Sally’s, I dropped my mother off at Connor’s office. There were some forms they needed to go over,” she said.

Her anxious tone provided a clue for Luke, but her pacing was a dead giveaway that something about that meeting was upsetting his wife.

“And that has you worried?” Luke asked, frowning. “Why? Did Connor suggest there might be a problem? Is something holding up the visa application?”

“No, to the contrary, he thinks this will be the last bit of paperwork needed to satisfy immigration.”

“That’s great news,” Luke said, lifting Kate high into the air until she giggled.

“You might want to watch that,” Moira warned. “She just ate an entire pancake at Sally’s, then went after Mum’s eggs. Our little one has the appetite of a horse now that she’s trying regular food, but she hasn’t learned when to stop.”

“Yes, my worrywart,” Luke said, shifting Kate till her feet touched the ground and she could cling to his knee to stay upright. “You know, I think she’s very close to walking.”

Moira regarded him incredulously. “She’s not going to be a year old for another month. She’s still falling on her bum whenever she tries.”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Luke said. “She’s trying. She’s not satisfied with crawling.”

“I suppose,” Moira responded distractedly, still pacing.

“Okay, that’s it,” Luke said. “Something is on your mind. Tell me. You’ve learned by now that I’m no mind reader. Is your work not going well?”

Moira shrugged. “Megan’s pleased with it, or says she is. She’d like me to do more and faster, but I’m working at a pace that gives me time at home. I’ve told her I don’t intend to sacrifice that.”

“And is she pressuring you to do otherwise?”

“She doesn’t say it, at least not anymore, but I know she’s disappointed. She thought I’d have more free time with my mother here.”

“Don’t you?” Luke asked, puzzled by her mood and the entire conversation. Communication skills varied widely between the average man and woman, he’d discovered. For him and Moira, it was as if they spoke entirely different languages and, quite possibly in her case, from some universe not yet discovered.

“Of course I have more time than I did. I’m out with my camera almost every day now, while Mum watches Kate,” she said impatiently, as if he should already know the obvious answer. “And when my mum is here, Kate’s at day care. I’ve more than enough time. This isn’t about work, Luke.”