The Summer Garden. Sherryl Woods

       “Moira, the fellow at the table in the corner has been trying to catch your eye for a while now,” Peter McDonough said. “Seems he’s ready for another Guinness.”

       Moira snapped herself back to the moment, then quickly returned the picture of Luke to her pocket. She took the drink and crossed the pub.

       “Kevin, is it?” she said to the man, who was apparently a regular, while she was new to this particular pub, if not to waiting tables. “Sorry for the delay.”

       He gave her a friendly smile. “You looked distracted. Was it someone special in the picture you were studying so intently?”

       Was Luke someone special? she wondered. Well, the answer to that was obvious. Of course he was! He was a charming rogue, the kind of man her dad had been, if her mother’s bitter stories were to be believed. She’d understood for the first time how her mother could have been taken in by such a man. In just a few short weeks she’d started imagining herself with Luke forever.

       “A friend,” she said now, knowing that she and Luke were at least that much.

       The time they’d spent together had been amazing. They saw eye-to-eye on so many things, were both struggling to figure out their places in the world. Together, they’d shared laughter and a passion that had been entirely new to her. At twenty-two, she’d thought she’d been in love a time or two, but now she knew better. What she’d felt with Luke had been different. She’d looked beyond immediate gratification to a future. She only wished she could be sure he’d done the same.

       His emails since he’d returned home to Chesapeake Shores had been thoroughly unsatisfying. They’d told her only that she’d crossed his mind, but little else about what he was doing or, more important, feeling. They’d made her cautious in her own responses, not wanting to reveal too much about how desperately she missed him. It seemed impossible that someone could mean so much to her after so little time. Perhaps those days and nights they’d spent together had been nothing more than a wonderful but temporary fantasy come true.

       The one practical result being with Luke had accomplished was to motivate her to finally leave the small village where she’d grown up to come to Dublin. For the moment she was staying with her grandfather, but if this job continued the way it had begun, with more than decent tips at the end of the day, she’d soon have enough to find a small place of her own or with a girlfriend. Finally, she’d be doing something she enjoyed without her mum gazing at her in disappointment because she wasn’t continuing her education or aiming higher.

       What Kiera Malone had never understood was that Moira enjoyed talking to people, making them smile, being surrounded by their laughter. The only activity more satisfying to her was photography, but she hadn’t a clue how to turn that into a career. For now, she was happy enough taking pictures just for her own pleasure, giving them to friends when she’d captured them at a moment when their personality was evident in the shot.

       Back at the bar, she drew the picture of Luke from her pocket once more and smiled. She’d done exactly that in this shot of Luke at his carefree, charming best.

       “What’s that?” Peter asked, glancing over her shoulder, then recognizing Luke from the time he’d spent in the pub asking questions and filling in behind the bar. “Ah, you’ve caught the essence of Luke, that’s for sure.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Have you taken others?”

       “Sure. Why?”

       “Could you do the same thing in here, perhaps snap some pictures of the regulars? We could frame them and hang them on the walls.”

       She regarded him with astonishment. “Seriously?” It was the first time anyone had even hinted that she was good enough at photography to do more than take snapshots for her own enjoyment.

       “You’ve been coming around here with your grandfather for years. Have you ever known me not to be serious when it comes to this business?” he asked. “I think it will add something special to the place.” He shrugged. “Who knows? It might also bring you a few customers who’d like you to take pictures for their family events.”

       Moira hesitated. Was she really good enough for that? Was that even something she wanted? She heard Luke’s voice in her head, encouraging her to take chances, to reach for things she found truly satisfying.

       “I’ll do it,” she told Peter, feeling a faint stirring of excitement. “No charge for you, of course. We’ll just see how they turn out.”

       “If you take them, I’ll pay for them,” her boss insisted. “You’ll have to be setting your rates now, won’t you?” He grinned. “And then you can give me a generous first-time customer discount.”

       She laughed. “Deal.”

       A day that had started out in a very dreary way had taken a definite turn for the better. And to think it was her snapshot of Luke that had made that happen. Even from such a long distance, it seemed he was her good-luck charm. If only he were a little closer, Moira thought, she could thank him in person. At least tonight she could send him an email with something exciting to report from her own life, something that might engage him in the sort of exchange they’d had so often during his visit.

       Jeff O’Brien regarded his younger son with dismay. “A pub? Are you serious?”

       “I am,” Luke said, keeping his gaze level and not backing down under Jeff’s blatant skepticism.

       “But why? You have a college degree. Why not put it to good use? You could teach history at the high school.”

       “Me? In a classroom? I’d lose my freaking mind,” Luke replied.

       Jeff smiled at the adamant response. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized it was a bad fit. You played hooky every chance you got, didn’t you? How many times was your mother hauled out of her classroom or I was called in from work to bail you out of a jam with the principal? I doubt you’d be any happier at the front of the room. You were never fond of routines and predictability.”

       “Exactly,” Luke said, then leaned forward earnestly. “I know this isn’t anything we ever talked about, Dad, but the minute the pieces started falling into place, it felt right. I don’t know if it was being in Ireland and really connecting with my Irish roots, or what Mack said about my being a good listener, or maybe both together, but for the first time I thought, this is something I can do, something I can be really excited about.”

       Jeff heard that excitement in his son’s voice and, though he had a thousand reservations, he didn’t want to be the one to put a damper on his enthusiasm. Still, he couldn’t help expressing caution.

       “Businesses come and go in this town,” he warned. “And the start-up costs money. Where will you find it?”

       Luke hesitated, then admitted, “I was thinking I could sell the waterfront land on Beach Lane that you’ve been holding for me.”

       Jeff regarded him with dismay. “Not an option,” he said flatly. “That land is worth a fortune and I held on to it so you could build a home of your own one day, not as an investment for you to sell on a whim.”

       “It’s not a whim, Dad. I’ve needed a goal and finally I have one.”

       “You’ll regret selling it,” Jeff predicted. “Find another way.”

       “I don’t want to start off mired down with loans,” Luke told him. “Please, Dad, just think about it. You’ve always said the land was to be mine. Doesn’t that suggest I should be able to do with it whatever I want to do?”

       “First, tell me how you plan to weather the slow winters. Have you even considered that?”

       “Of course. I’ve even discussed it with Laila and she agrees that it’s a solid plan.”

       Jeff stilled at that. “You’ve told your sister-in-law about all this?”