The Courage To Love (Love On The North Shore) (2 page)

“Thanks for the help. My bags are heavy, especially that one.” Mia pointed to one of the suitcases in the trunk. “I tend to over-pack.”

“Not a problem,” he answered as he pulled out the first of the matching suitcases.

Mia disappeared inside the car and then reemerged with a large leather shoulder bag. “Any suggestions on things to do while I’m here?” She slammed the door closed and started walking away from the car.

“A lot of people like to visit Salem when they come. Others go to Boston. Ma put together a binder of things to do and places to visit. There should be one in your room. If not, let me know; she keeps extras in the office.” He followed her back toward the entrance.

“I might put off Boston for now, but Salem will be a definite stop. The last time I visited I was about nine. I remember visiting the witch museum.” She started up the main staircase and his eyes traveled up her long legs with pure male appreciation.

Other than the fact she starred in movies, he knew next to nothing about her. Once he’d made a quick assessment of her legs, he locked his eyes on the back of her head. “Family vacation?” Maybe it was because he’d lived his whole life in Massachusetts, but he couldn’t imagine taking a family trip to his tiny corner of the world.

“More like a day trip during school vacation. I lived in Massachusetts until I was ten. During every school vacation my mom took us on day trips to places like Boston and Salem. Once or twice we went down to Mystic, Connecticut. Another time we went up to Portland, Maine.”

Sean opened the door to her room, then took a step back and allowed her to enter first. “Where would you like these?” He nodded down to the suitcases he still carried.

“The bed is fine, thanks.”

After placing the bags on the bed, he stepped back into the hall. “If you need anything, just let one of us know. Like Ma said, she starts serving breakfast at six thirty in the dining room. And she makes sure there are snacks in there throughout the day. If you want coffee or tea, feel free to stop in the kitchen.”

“Great. Thanks.”

With their newest guest settled, Sean returned to the office. With his mom gone for the next several hours, he needed to keep himself available in case one of the guests required help.

Since his mom started meeting her friends once a week, he’d gotten in the habit of working in the downstairs office. Most of the time he used the time to handle bills or place orders. On the rare occasion when no pressing office work required his attention, he’d work on his thesis. He’d submitted it for review last month. If all went well, he’d receive his master’s degree by the end of next month, although no one outside the university knew that.

He’d started work on his bachelor’s degree twelve years earlier, but with a full time job he’d only been able to take a few courses a semester. In fact, a few times he’d only squeezed in one course at a time.

It hadn’t been his original intention to go on once he obtained his bachelor’s degree. After all, it wasn’t like he’d ever use it. After a semester away from course work, however, he’d found he’d missed it, so he applied and was accepted into a master’s program at MIT.

Before he opened the file containing this month’s expenses, he logged into the bed and breakfast’s email account. Some days they received only one or two messages, while other days they received over a dozen inquiries. Today five messages popped up. Starting with the first one, he worked his way down the list, able to often cut and paste a prepared response to most of them.

When he hit the last one, the subject line grabbed his attention. Unlike the others that said something like “booking a room” or “thank you for a great stay,” this one read “hello Sean.” He never received personal emails on this account. He kept a separate email account, which he used for friends and classmates.

For a moment he considered deleting the message. More than likely it was a spam message or some other kind of phishing email. If he opened it, he would probably find a message telling him he’d won a million dollars; all he needed to do was transfer a hundred dollars to some account in Africa. Both his personal email and The Victorian Rose’s email got those messages from time to time, despite the filters he’d set up.

Prepared to hit the tiny trash can icon next to the message, he moved the cursor toward it, but at the last minute changed his mind. Just to be on the safe side, he double clicked it.

He scanned the brief message once and then again, unable to accept the words. It had to be a mistake. The guy hadn’t contacted him in eighteen years. Pulling his eyes away from the screen, he focused on the picture on the wall, a photo of the town common at sunset. This email had to be some kind of joke from one of his buddies. A few of them had a sick sense of humor and would find something like this humorous.

He dropped his gaze back to the screen. As he read the message again, his temper inched a little farther toward the ceiling and his fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Excuse me do you—” a female voice started from the doorway but came to an abrupt halt.

Slowly he registered the voice nearby, but it sounded far away.

“Are you okay?”

She sounded a little closer this time. Or maybe it just seemed closer, he wasn’t sure. Forcing his eyes to leave the screen and the message there, he turned and saw Mia in the doorway, concern on her face.

“Can I help you?” With his attention distracted from the email, his brain registered the pain in his gritted teeth.

“It can wait until later,” Mia answered as she took another step into the office. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

He paused, surprised by her question. Other than his mother and sister, no one ever inquired about his well-being. If others never asked, why would their newest guest? “I’m fine. Do you need something?”

The needs of the guests came first. He’d deal with this email later.

Mia stopped next to the desk, and rested her fingertips on the top, her pink nail polish extra bright next to the dark wood. “You don’t look fine. You’re white as a sheet. You look as if you saw a ghost.”

Not saw, heard from. Sean forced his shoulders to relax and unclenched his fists. “I got a message from someone I didn’t expect. It’s nothing.”

He watched Mia’s eyes move as she looked at him. With her baseball hat gone, he could clearly see that they were not plain brown but rather the color of whiskey with tiny specs of gold, and at the moment they seemed to be studying him as if she could see into his soul. “Is something wrong with your room?” He met her gaze and waited.

“The room is perfect. I hoped you could recommend a place for dinner.”

“Sure. Masterson’s has American food—things like chicken and steak. It’s on the other side of town near the schools. If you want Italian food, Tuscany is good. It’s down by the river. There’s also The Jade Orient. They serve both Japanese and Chinese food. They’re next door to Quinn’s Hardware.” The answers rolled off his tongue without any thought required.

Mia nodded. “Thanks.”

When she left, he swung his eyes back to the message that remained unchanged on the screen, the signature at the bottom taunting him. The man had some massive balls to think he could reach out like this now. After eighteen years, his father was the last person he wanted to reconnect with. He prepared to delete the message but then changed his mind and typed out a short message that made his feelings crystal clear.

***

The image of Sean O’Brien seated at his desk, stark white with his fists clenched, remained etched in her mind as she drove toward Masterson’s. Even before she’d gone downstairs in search of him, he’d been on her mind. From the moment he’d greeted her in the office, he intrigued her, although she couldn’t pinpoint why. While handsome in a rugged, masculine sort of way, he wasn’t drop-dead movie star gorgeous. In fact, if not for his height, she imagined he could walk through a crowd and not draw any attention to himself. But there was something about him.

Maybe her interest stemmed from how he’d reacted to her. He hadn’t blinked an eye when he saw her. As he helped her with her bags, he treated her like any other guest. Not once did he try to impress her or ask for an autograph. Come to think of it, neither had his mother. She appreciated that more than either of them would ever know. Some days she couldn’t even grab a coffee without being followed by either an overzealous photographer or a fan wanting to say hello. Granted, that went with the territory, but sometimes she just wanted to fly under the radar and go about her business like everyone else. Perhaps even worse than the people who treated her special were those who pretended to treat her like everyone else, then, the minute she turned her back, they bragged about how they’d met her on some social networking site.

Mia turned onto Lyman Road, and her thoughts went back to how she had found Sean. For anyone to have a reaction like that, it had to be quite a message. She hoped it wasn’t bad news. An email message was a cold way to share bad news.

Halfway down the road, she hit the center of town, which looked as if someone had just plucked it off a movie set. A large grassy common with a bandstand sat at the center of the horseshoe-shaped road. A well-maintained clapboard building painted bright white stood at the top of the horseshoe. It had a clock mounted at its highest point and the words Town Hall hung over a set of double doors. To the left of the town hall was a much smaller building with the words North Salem Public Library attached to it. Several feet to the right was a sprawling joint fire and police station with a few police cars parked in front.

As she drove by the area, a sign announcing performances that would be held on the common over the coming weeks caught her eye. Already four young men were at work, probably preparing for this weekend’s performance. In addition to the musicians, a few families enjoyed early picnic dinners while several children played on the small playground at the far corner of the common.

The entire setting was far removed from what she saw at home, and a sense of peace came over her. At one time she loved the excitement and everything else that went along with living in Beverly Hills, but lately it had been too much. In many ways she remained the small town girl she’d been before she landed her first television role at the age of ten. Back then her family had lived in a town similar to this one. After a talent agent noticed her at the beach one day and invited her to audition for a role in a new family sitcom, her entire family relocated to California. Since that day she’d considered California her home. The only time she’d lived in Massachusetts after that had been during the two years she spent at Harvard before returning to her acting career.

Following the arrow that pointed toward the schools, she turned again and drove another two miles before the family restaurant appeared. Thanks to the early hour, the parking lot remained relatively empty. Hopefully, that meant she could get in and out quickly tonight. Despite the short nap she’d taken on the plane, she was tired and eager to call it a day.

Chapter 2

Showered and dressed after her morning run, Mia stepped out into the hallway and immediately caught the scent of freshly baked bread. Her stomach gave an unladylike growl as she closed and locked the door behind her. One of the things mentioned in the reviews of the bed and breakfast was the fabulous breakfasts Maureen O’Brien set out every day, and if the smells coming from downstairs were any indication, all the reviews were justified.

Only Maureen, busy arranging a tray of muffins on the sideboard, stood in the dining room when she entered. She jumped slightly when Mia greeted her.

“Good morning. You’re up early. Please help yourself.” Maureen swept her arm toward the mini-feast set out.

“I never sleep late,” Mia admitted, as she grabbed a coffee mug. “I wish I could. My sisters and parents are the same way.”

“Neither does my son. He never has. Not like my daughter. If not for her alarm, she’d never wake up in the morning.” Maureen turned up the flame beneath a chafing dish. “There are pancakes and French toast in here and breakfast meat in that one. But if you’d like, I can prepare an omelette or some scrambled eggs. I don’t like to put eggs out in the chafing dishes. They never taste quite right.”

“No need. This is wonderful.” Large breakfasts were not part of Mia’s routine. In fact, some mornings she still had to force herself to eat at all. Even after all this time, some habits were hard to break.

“If you change your mind, let me know. I need to check on the second batch of muffins in the oven,” Maureen said before she disappeared through the swinging door, leaving Mia alone.

Everything looked and smelled heavenly. Lifting the cover of one chafing dish, she contemplated one of the golden brown pancakes . The one next to it held sausage links and bacon. Two trays of banana nut muffins, still warm from the oven, beckoned as did the homemade donuts. Her mouth watered just looking at the sugar donuts. Tapping into her willpower, she passed by all the rich foods and added some fresh cut fruit and a yogurt to her plate.

“That’s not all you’re having is it?” Maureen entered the room with a basket of assorted bagels and breads which she set down next to jars of homemade jams.

“I don’t like a big breakfast after a run.” The excuse rolled off her tongue.