Lilac Lane (Chesapeake Shores #14)(48)

“No way am I subjecting the two of them to you,” Moira said. “You’re as much of a bulldozer as your husband, Megan O’Brien.”

Megan looked pleased by the comment. “Living with Mick all these years was bound to rub off. We both do enjoy getting our own way.”

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”

Megan laughed. “I know, but I’ll take it as one just the same. So you’ll talk to your mother and Luke and let me know tomorrow?”

“As if there was ever any doubt,” Moira muttered, then tempered her sarcasm with a more appropriate note of gratitude. “I do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“Even when I’m being pushy and demanding?”

“Even then.” Moira studied her closely. “You’re awfully confident of what the two of them will say, aren’t you?”

“I know they both want the best for you and your career,” Megan responded a little too carefully.

“You’ve already talked to them,” Moira accused.

“Not to Luke, but I might have mentioned to your mother that there were opportunities I didn’t think you should ignore. Hasn’t she said anything?”

“Not a word, which is surprising since she usually doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind. We had quite a long chat just the other day and none of this was mentioned. I know she’s come to admire you, so it’s odd that she didn’t rush to do your bidding, unless she’s in agreement with me that my place is here.”

“Or maybe she was afraid it would be counterproductive,” Megan suggested. “Sometimes suggestions coming from a parent don’t get the best reception. I’ve learned that from experience. I imagine your mother has, too.”

“We both are known for our stubborn, independent streaks,” Moira conceded.

“Don’t turn me down just because I tried to involve your mother,” Megan said. “Maybe that was overstepping on my part.”

“Maybe?” Moira gave her mentor a long look that actually caused her to squirm just a little.

“Okay, it was,” Megan conceded. “But if you look at this from every angle, you’ll see that it’s the next logical step for you to reach your goal.”

“I didn’t have any goals before I met you. I’m not sure mine are as lofty even now as yours are.”

“And that’s why you have me, to encourage you to reach higher. You’re talented, Moira. You need to dream bigger.”

“And to go against my instincts to be satisfied with what we’ve accomplished already?”

Megan leaned toward her, her expression earnest. “I hope you’ll decide against settling for that, when you can achieve so much more, Moira. Let us—Luke, your mother and me—help you get there. We only want you and your tremendous talent to get all the recognition you deserve.”

Moira thought of what her mother had said just the other day about holding out a hand and asking for help, about accepting it when it was offered. Perhaps she was being too stubborn for her own good. It surely wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it likely be the last. Perhaps it was time to break the pattern of saying no just to be contrary.

“We’ll talk it over,” she promised Megan. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Tomorrow?”

Moira smiled at her persistence. “Yes, tomorrow.”

*

Kiera sat in a corner of the pub, bouncing Kate on her knee. The baby gurgled with delight and reached for a handful of Kiera’s auburn hair. Kiera gently untangled her tiny fingers and placed them around the grip of a pacifier that so far Kate had been noisily reluctant to give up.

“How about this instead?” she coaxed. “Otherwise, I’ll soon not have a hair left on my head.”

In another of her contrary moves, Kate tossed the pacifier onto the floor.

“Not interested? Okay, what then? There must be something here that will be more entertaining than tugging on my hair.”

“I have something that might do,” Bryan said, coming out of the kitchen with one of the miniature frozen all-fruit ices he made just for the baby. He waved a strawberry-flavored one in front of Kate, who reached for it eagerly and bestowed one of her best smiles on him.

“She does love those,” Kiera said grudgingly. “What made you think of making them?”

Though she hadn’t really expected it, Bryan pulled up a chair. Since their truce, he’d taken a few minutes here and there to sit and talk to her. Without him bristling at every word she said, she’d increasingly come to enjoy his company. She especially looked forward to early mornings in the garden, both of them weeding companionably with few words spoken.

“I used to make them for my daughter when she was a baby and teething,” he said, not meeting her gaze as he spoke.

The unexpected and very personal revelation took Kiera by surprise. “You have a daughter?”

“I did,” he said, his face expressionless. His eyes, however, spoke volumes, the sorrow so deep it almost broke her heart.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bryan shook his head, waving off the sympathy. “It’s not that she died. As far as I know she’s very much alive.”