A woman emerged from the back and beamed, first at Bobby, then at him. “Hi, I’m Shanna O’Brien,” she said, holding out her hand to Sam. “And you’re the new web designer working with Mack.”
Sam blinked, astounded not only by her perceptiveness, but by her last name. “Excuse me for letting my jaw drop,” he said. “But I’m beginning to think O’Briens are everywhere,”
She laughed. “Pretty much, and with all the babies in the next generation, I don’t see that changing.”
“How did you know who I am?”
“I ran over to Sally’s a half hour ago to pick up a sandwich. I spotted you with Carrie and this little guy. It didn’t take long to put two and two together. We have very good math skills in this town, at least when it comes to that sort of thing.”
“I’d better remember that,” he said, not sure how he felt about so many people, no matter how well-intentioned, knowing his business.
Shanna had gone to kneel down next to Bobby. “So, what kind of books do you like?”
“All kinds,” Bobby said. “My mom read to me every night before bed.” He glanced up at Sam, his expression sad. “Will you do that? I packed some of my favorites, but I like new stories, too.”
“Absolutely,” Sam said readily, grateful to get a handle on something he was capable of doing to make Bobby’s transition to this new life a tiny bit easier. “You pick out whatever books you want and we’ll read them together.”
Looking relieved, Bobby turned back to Shanna. “Do you have books about the bay and the birds around here?”
“I sure do,” she said, pulling several off a shelf. “There are a lot more, but they’re for grown-ups. If you want to know more when you’ve been through these, come back and we’ll see if one of those appeals to you.” She glanced at Sam. “I’m a big believer in encouraging children to read about whatever interests them, even if the books were meant for adults. They might stumble over some of the words, but it keeps them interested.”
Bobby was already engrossed in a picture book about local shore birds, so she turned her attention back to Sam. “I’m trying to convince Thomas O’Brien to start a summer class for the younger kids in town. He already has an active group at the high school, but in my opinion children are never too young to develop a passion for the world right around them. Thomas runs the foundation to preserve the bay, and I’ve told him the best way to assure that the bay goes on being protected is to spark interest at an early age. Do you think Bobby would like to join?”
Sam glanced down at his nephew and smiled. “I think that’s your answer. He’s the one who insisted we come in today and find these books, and we just arrived back in town last night.”
“Thomas and my husband will be thrilled about that enthusiasm. Kevin—and yes, he’s an O’Brien, one of Mick’s sons, in fact—works with Thomas. Between us we have three boys and a girl, ranging in age from a few months to seventeen. We’ll have to have the two of you over for dinner, so Bobby can make some new friends.”
“That would be great,” Sam said, liking this open, generous woman at once.
“Should I invite Carrie, too?” she asked slyly.
He blinked at the obviousness of the question. “Up to you,” he said. “It’s your dinner.”
She gave a nod of satisfaction. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now let me ring up those books, unless you want to look around for some for yourself.”
“I think I’m going to be spending all my spare time reading these with Bobby,” he said. “I’ll find some for myself the next time we come in.”
“Any particular genre?”
“Adventure travel,” he suggested. Books were probably the only way he was going to satisfy his wanderlust for the foreseeable future.
“You’re in luck. I have a great selection. There are a few other people in town who have the time and money to travel, so I try to order the latest books for them.”
“You must get to know your customers really well,” Sam said, impressed.
“It’s the only way for a small, independent bookstore to succeed these days,” she said.
When their purchases were paid for and bagged in two separate bags so Bobby could carry a couple himself, she gave Sam another smile. “I’ll be in touch about dinner. Probably one night next week. I know Tuesday is deadline night at the paper, so I’ll aim for Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Great,” Sam said.
Outside Bobby was practically skipping across the street in excitement. “Can we read when we get back to the inn?”
“Would you rather do that than swim?” Sam asked, surprised.
“Uh-huh,” Bobby said with a nod. “I always liked it when Mommy read to me.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Sam said. He held out his hand. “Hold my hand when we cross the street, buddy.”
Bobby tucked his hand trustingly into Sam’s, then gave him a shy look. “I think maybe being here is going to be okay.”
The softly spoken comment brought the sting of tears to Sam’s eyes. He was glad for the sunglasses that kept those tears from his nephew. “I know it’s going to be okay, Bobby,” he said, his tone more reassuring than it might have been even twenty-four hours earlier. “We’re going to be a team, you and me.”
Bobby grinned. “I like being on a team. Do you think they have T-ball here?”
“I imagine they do.”
“Can I play?”
“If you want to.”
“Will you come to the games like Daddy did?”
“You bet.”
Sam studied the satisfied expression on his nephew’s face and realized turning into a dad wasn’t going to be quite as terrifying as he’d imagined. Bobby was already showing him the way.
* * *
Jackson was down for his afternoon nap, though how he could sleep with Davey and Henry fighting over a video game in the living room was beyond Carrie.
“Hey, you two, a little quieter, please. The baby’s sleeping.”
“Oops,” Henry said, his expression immediately turning serious.
“Shouldn’t you have outgrown this competitive thing with your younger brother by now?” she teased. “You’re only a year away from going to college.”
He grinned. “I’m just warming up for college,” he informed her. “I hear it gets pretty wild and competitive in the dorms and fraternity houses.”
“Whatever happened to the sweet, serious little boy who first came to town to live with Shanna?” Carrie asked, remembering his arrival even though she’d been just a few years older.
“I got turned into an O’Brien,” he said, then gave her a taunting look. “You want to play?”
Davey’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, Carrie, take him down, okay?”
“I’m no good at this game,” she protested innocently. “You both know that.” Still, she sat down and took Davey’s remote. “Don’t be too hard on me, okay, Henry?”
Fifteen minutes later, she’d wiped the floor with the smug teenager, proving he and Davey weren’t the only competitive people in the room. Davey hooted.
Henry’s