- Home
- Sherryl Woods
Harbor Lights
Harbor Lights Read online
Praise for the novels of
SHERRYL WOODS
“Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
“Compulsively readable…Though the serious issues raised are handled with honesty and integrity, Woods’s novel easily rises above hot-button topics to tell a universal tale of friendship’s redemptive power.”
—Publishers Weekly on Mending Fences
“Redolent with Southern small-town atmosphere, this emotionally rich story deals with some serious issues and delivers on a number of levels.”
—Library Journal on A Slice of Heaven
“Sherryl Woods always delivers a fast, breezy, glamorous…romance.”
—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Ann Krentz
“Woods’s latest entry in her Sweet Magnolias series (after Stealing Home) is sure to please fans and entice new readers with…flesh-and-blood characters, terrific dialogue and substantial stakes.”
—Publishers Weekly on A Slice of Heaven
“Sherryl Woods…writes with a very special warmth, wit, charm and intelligence.”
—New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham
“Sherryl Woods gives her characters depth, intensity, and the right amount of humor.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Sherryl Woods is a uniquely gifted writer whose deep understanding of human nature is woven into every page.”
—New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers
By New York Times bestselling author
SHERRYL WOODS
WELCOME TO SERENITY*
SEAVIEW INN
MENDING FENCES
FEELS LIKE FAMILY*
A SLICE OF HEAVEN*
STEALING HOME*
WAKING UP IN CHARLESTON
FLIRTING WITH DISASTER
THE BACKUP PLAN
DESTINY UNLEASHED
FLAMINGO DINER
ALONG CAME TROUBLE**
ASK ANYONE**
ABOUT THAT MAN**
ANGEL MINE
AFTER TEX
THE INN AT EAGLE POINT***
FLOWERS ON MAIN***
HARBOR LIGHTS***
New York Times Bestselling Author
SHERRYL WOODS
Harbor Lights
Dear Friends,
From the time I was four, I spent my summers along the Potomac River not far from the Chesapeake Bay. My love for this locale has grown out of those carefree days spent swimming—not very well—in the river, walking along the beaches and, more recently, sitting on my front porch watching a bald eagle sit high in an old oak tree peering out at the water. There’s no place on earth quite like this in terms of beauty and tranquillity.
Though my love of the area grew over time, another member of my family was far more proactive in seeking to save this vast estuary. My mother’s cousin, Tayloe Murphy, while in the Virginia House of Delegates and later as Director of Natural Resources for the state, has been heavily involved in both creating legislation and in oversight. He and others were my inspiration for some of the characters in Harbor Lights, including Mick O’Brien’s brother Thomas.
Of course, Mick’s son, Kevin, has his own love of this region and it helps him to begin the healing process as he returns to the fictional town of Chesapeake Shores with his son after his wife’s death in Iraq. I hope you’ll enjoy Kevin’s very emotional story and enjoy being back with all the O’Briens.
And if you ever have the opportunity, I hope you’ll visit the Chesapeake Bay and come to understand why the fight to preserve its natural beauty is so important.
All good wishes,
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Prologue
Former army medic Kevin O’Brien had seen his share of combat, violence and death. He’d served two tours in Iraq before being discharged a few months ago. In his current job as a paramedic in Arlington, Virginia, he’d been on plenty of accident scenes, treated gunshot victims, and gone on domestic violence calls where arguments had turned nasty. None of it, though, had prepared him emotionally for spending a day with a sick kid—his sick kid.
He’d spent the night pacing the floor of his Northern Virginia town house, his miserable eleven-month-old son cradled against his shoulder. Davy intermittently squalled and whimpered, leaving Kevin frustrated and anxious and about ten seconds away from calling his grandmother back home in Chesapeake Shores for advice…or maybe hopping into his truck and driving straight over there. Gram would be thrilled to take over for him.
It was times like this when Kevin missed his wife the most. He could handle the basics of day care and meals, even the everyday medical stuff—baby aspirin, eardrops, whatever—but Georgia had the soothing voice down pat. He was almost certain that Davy never cried this loudly—as if his little heart were breaking—when he was being held by his mom.
Unfortunately, Georgia had another six months to serve on her latest stint as a medic in Iraq. With a new baby in the house, she could have gotten out of the overseas assignment, but she had refused. She’d insisted on going where she thought she was most needed by the military and her country. If she kept her promise—and it was a big if in Kevin’s mind—this would be her last tour before she, too, was discharged. Then they planned to move to Maryland to be close to Kevin’s family in Chesapeake Shores, the quaint seaside town his father had built.
As terrified as Kevin had been of staying behind and being a single dad to an infant, he’d understood Georgia’s devotion to duty. She wasn’t the only mother who’d made the difficult decision to leave her family behind to serve in the army. Besides, her very dedication to the mission was one of the things he’d admired the most about Georgia when they’d met on the job at a hospital in Baghdad’s Green Zone, supposedly the safest spot to be in that war-torn country.
Kevin paused in his pacing to look at their wedding photo, sitting on the mantel. It was practically the only time he’d seen Georgia in public wearing anything other than her medic’s uniform. He hadn’t been able to get over how beautiful she’d looked in the simple white gown, her golden hair in unaccustomed curls, her smile so bright it made his heart ache with missing her.
That they’d married in a rushed ceremony at the Baltimore airport had hardly mattered, because her father, a minister in Texas, had flown in at the last minute to officiate. Her mother had accompanied him. Georgia had sworn it didn’t matter that they wouldn’t have the lavish ceremony most girls dreamed of. It had been enough to have her family beside her when she and Kevin had wed.
Kevin’s only family member present for the brief service had been his dad, because he’d wanted the rest of the family to meet Georgia for the first time at home on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay, not in a whirlwind in some sterile room at the airport. He’d taken plenty of grief over that decision, especially from his sisters.
Now he picked up the wedding picture and held it in front of Davy, as he did almost daily. “Do you see this pretty woman, kiddo? This is your mom. I know you’
re sad without her, but I’m doing the best I can. And your Uncle Connor is coming over here tomorrow to hook us up with a camera so we’ll be able to talk to her and see her on the computer. It’ll be almost as if she’s right here with us.”
Davy hiccuped, his eyes wide and shiny with unshed tears. “Mama,” he said, reaching toward the picture.
Kevin beamed at him. “That’s exactly right. That’s your mama. She’s a real beauty, pal. The sweetest woman in the whole world. Feisty, too, and brave. Boy, does she have a mind of her own. She’s going to keep both of us on our toes once she gets home.”
Davy whimpered, then laid his head on Kevin’s shoulder. He could feel his son’s breath, warm and soft, against his neck. Maybe Davy was finally falling asleep. Maybe they’d both finally get some much-needed rest.
The wistful thought had barely come to him when the doorbell rang, snapping Davy awake with a start. The crying started up all over again, even as Kevin cursed under his breath and headed for the door.
When he opened it, the sight of two somber men in uniform on the doorstep sent him staggering back. He knew why they were here. God help him, he knew.
“No.” It was the only word he could manage with Davy still sobbing and his own heart about to break.
“Sir, we regret to inform you—”
Kevin cut them off. “No,” he repeated more forcefully. “I have to…” He looked around, uncertain what he had to do. Something, anything, to prevent them from saying what the family of any soldier dreaded hearing.
“My son,” he said finally. “Let me put him down, please.”
The two soldiers regarded him with compassion. “Of course, sir.”
He carried his son into the nursery, but in the end he couldn’t let go. He needed that tiny bit of warmth, the human contact, to steady himself for what was coming. He needed to be reminded that, no matter what, he had to keep a grip on things. His boy needed him. From here on out, he and Davy had to be a team, just the two of them.
Because even though he hadn’t heard the words yet, he knew: Georgia was dead. How and when hardly mattered, only that one truth with its ultimate finality: Davy’s mom—Kevin’s wife—wouldn’t be back. Their all-too-brief life as a family was over, practically before it had begun.
1
Thirteen months later
Kevin glanced out the window of his childhood bedroom. The yard that sloped down toward the Chesapeake Bay was decorated with balloons. Piles of presents sat on a picnic table next to a cake decorated with toy trucks, Davy’s favorite things. All of the O’Briens had gathered to celebrate his son’s second birthday, but Kevin could barely summon the energy to get out of bed. Despite his resolve to be strong for Davy, he’d pretty much been a wreck since Georgia’s death, not able to get a fix on anything, unable to make even the most basic decisions about his life.
He had made three decisions, though. He’d quit his job as a paramedic, he’d sold the town house, which was filled with memories of his too-brief marriage, and he’d moved home. At least here, he knew there were plenty of people who would love and look out for his son while he figured out what came next. That was something he really needed to get to…one of these days.
Someone pounded on the door of his room—his younger brother from the sound of it.
“Get your butt downstairs!” Connor bellowed. “The party’s about to start.”
Given his choice, Kevin would have crawled back into bed and pulled the pillow over his head to block out the sound of laughter coming from outside. He wouldn’t, though. For one thing, even if nothing else in his life made sense, his son was the most important person in it. Kevin wouldn’t let him down. For another, either Gram or his dad would be up here next, and either one of them had the power to shame him into doing what was right for the occasion.
“On my way,” he assured Connor.
He showered in record time, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and slid his feet into an old pair of sneakers, then went downstairs. Only his youngest sister, Jess, was in the kitchen. She surveyed him, then shook her head.
“You’re a mess,” she declared.
“I showered. These clothes are clean,” he protested.
“Did you lose your razor? And maybe your comb?”
“Who are you?” he grumbled. “The fashion patrol?”
“Just calling it like I see it, big brother. Everyone else spruced up for the party. Turning two is a big deal.”
“Do you honestly think Davy’s going to care if I shaved?” he asked as he rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. He had shaved yesterday—or was it the day before? He couldn’t recall. Mostly the days slipped by in a blur.
“No, Davy won’t care today, but you’ll look like some derelict in the pictures. Is that the memory you want him to carry with him throughout his life? Last year on his first birthday it made sense that you looked ragged. It was only a few weeks after Georgia—”
“Don’t mention her name,” he snapped.
“Someone has to,” she said, looking him directly in the eye without backing down. “You loved her, Kev. I get that. You’re hurting and angry because she’s gone, but you can’t pretend she didn’t exist. She was that little boy’s mom. What are you planning to do, let him go through his entire life with the subject of his mother off-limits? What about his grandparents? Do you expect them never to mention their daughter’s name?”
“I can’t talk about her. Not yet.” He knew it was irrational, but somehow he thought if he didn’t talk about Georgia or her death, it wouldn’t be real. She’d still be out there, on the other side of the world, saving lives. She’d still walk through the door one day, back into his life.
“When, then?” Jess asked, her gaze unrelenting.
If he hadn’t been so annoyed, he might have admired her persistence. For a woman who rarely stuck with anything for long, Jess had certainly dug in her heels on this. Just his freaking luck.
“What do you expect me to say?” he snapped again. “A day? A month? Hell if I know when I’ll be ready.” Even as he spoke, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He hated the sign of weakness almost as much as he hated this whole conversation. “Just drop it, okay?”
Of course she didn’t. “Sit down,” she ordered, not cutting him any slack.
He didn’t like that Jess was turning the tables on him. His little sister had always come to him for advice. Now she was obviously planning to dole it out. Just like Georgia, once Jess got stirred up, she was going to speak her mind, whether anyone wanted to listen or not. Apparently this was one of those times. Kevin sat, mostly because he was too shaky not to and because she’d plunked a cup of much-needed coffee on the table to go with whatever words she was intent on dishing out.
She pulled a chair close and sat so that her knees were brushing his. She covered one of his hands with hers. The show of sympathy was almost his undoing.
“Listen to me, Kev. You need to get out of this house.”
Alarm shot through him. “Why? Has Gram said something? Is having Davy underfoot too much for her? Do she and Dad want me out of here?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know better,” she said impatiently. “This is your home. I wasn’t saying you should move. I was saying you need to get a life.” Her gaze, locked with his, was filled with compassion. “I know this is going to sound harsh, but somebody needs to say it. Georgia died. You didn’t. And Davy needs his dad, the real one, not the one who walks around here all day in a daze.”
He frowned at her. “I’m not drinking, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“Nobody said you were. Look, I’m saying all this now, before everyone else has a chance to gang up on you. You know it’s coming. You must. This family can’t keep their opinions to themselves worth a damn. It’s amazing we’ve all been so quiet for this long.”
He smiled, despite his sour mood. “You’re right about that.”
“Will you at least think about what I’ve said? If you promise to do that much, I
’ll run interference and keep the others at bay a while longer. Abby, the mother hen, is champing at the bit to offer her own special brand of tough love. She’s worried sick that you haven’t snapped out of this dark mood.”
Since he would do just about anything to keep from being surrounded by all that well-meaning concern, especially from his oldest sister, he nodded. “There’s just one thing.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t have any idea at all what to do with myself.”
“You’re a paramedic,” she reminded him at once. “There are openings right here in town. I’ve checked.”
He shook his head. “No. I’ll never do that again.” His career was all twisted up in his mind with Georgia and how she’d died on a call to a market in Baghdad after an explosive device had been triggered, killing and wounding a bunch of innocent civilians. She and her team had arrived just in time for the second bomb to be detonated. Kevin knew his reaction, his refusal to put his EMT training to good use, wasn’t rational, but then he wasn’t operating much on reason these days.
“You sure about that?” Jess asked.
“A hundred percent.”
Her expression brightened. “Then I have an even better idea.”
He didn’t like the glint in her eyes one bit. Jess had always had a knack for getting into mischief. Ideas came fast and furiously with her. It was the follow-through that was lacking. Or had been, anyway, until she’d opened The Inn at Eagle Point. That seemed to have captured her complete attention. After a shaky start, she had the place running smoothly and successfully.
“What’s your idea?” he asked warily.
“A fishing charter,” she said at once, then rushed in before he could utter an immediate objection. “You could lease dock space at the Harbor Lights Marina. Come on, Kev, at least think about it. You spent half your life on the water as a kid. You always claimed it calmed you, even if you didn’t come home with a single rockfish or croaker. And naturally, because you didn’t really give two hoots about catching them, the fish practically jumped into your boat.”