she’d picked now to give it her first try.

Inside the pub, Moira tried to ignore the deafening noise of the construction crew as they cut and installed the last of the chair-rail molding that Luke had requested. The electricians had ladders scattered about as they finished with the lighting fixtures.

While Luke dealt with various minor crises that had crept up while he’d been out placing his ads and having lunch, she retreated to his office and loaded her photos onto his laptop. As she sorted through them, deleting a few and saving others to a file she labeled “Chesapeake Shores,” she completely lost herself in what she was doing. Though it sounded ridiculous, it almost seemed as if she were seeing them for the first time, as if they’d been shot by someone else. She was able to look at them completely objectively, picking and choosing only those she thought were a notch above all the others, those that told a story in a single image.

The pictures she’d taken on the town green were the best. While those of the scenery were beautiful, these were full of life. She couldn’t help smiling as she looked at them.

Suddenly she was aware of Luke standing behind her. Immediately feeling shy, she glanced up at him. “Well?”

“Moira, they’re truly remarkable,” he said. “Would you mind if I asked someone over to look at them?”

She frowned at the idea of a stranger viewing these, which, in her mind, were little more than vacation pictures. “Who?”

“Megan,” he told her.

She frowned. “Why would you want your aunt to see them?”

“Because she owns an art gallery just down the block,” he reminded her. “She’ll want to see your work, I think. At the very least, you’ll have some candid feedback from someone who knows about these things.”

“Luke, I don’t know,” she said, uncertainty creeping in. Her photography was still so new. Was she ready to hear an expert’s opinion?

“You said you didn’t trust the comments you’d had so far because they were from friends and family. Megan’s an authority.”

She knew he was right, that it was an opportunity she shouldn’t pass up, but the truth was that she was terrified. What if Megan said her pictures didn’t measure up? What then? She could hardly ignore the opinion of someone who actually understood something about the world of art and photography. What if her dreams were dashed before they’d even begun?

Then reason kicked in. Would that be so terrible? In a way it would take the decision about the future out of her hands. If she wasn’t meant to be any sort of photographer, she could focus on having the family she’d always felt was her destiny.

She drew in a deep breath, then nodded. “Call her.”

Rather than listening while Luke spoke to his aunt, she concentrated on sorting through the pictures she’d selected as being better than average. Were they good enough, though? Suddenly she’d lost her earlier ability to be objective. She questioned each and every one of them. Was this one too dark? That one a bit fuzzy because of the child’s sudden movement?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to suffer all the uncertainty for long, because Megan arrived within minutes. Moira gave her a weak smile.

“I hope you’ll not be sorry that Luke called you and wasted your time,” she said to the stylish woman, who offered her an understanding look in return.

“No need to panic or make excuses, Moira,” Megan said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not here to rip your heart out. I’m just a friend who happens to have some experience in this field. I have a photography show hanging in my gallery right now, as a matter of fact. You should come back with me when we’re finished here and take a look. I’d love to hear what you think.”

Moira regarded her with amazement. “You’d want my opinion?”

Megan nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? Luke wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t believe you have an eye for this.” She nudged Moira aside to take her place in front of the computer, then met her gaze. “Seriously, do you mind if I have a look? If Luke bullied you into it, I can wait.”

Moira shook her head and stepped away, unable to watch. Luke came up beside her and, as if sensing her panic, took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll see.”

Moira prayed he was right. It didn’t help that Megan was silent as she went through the photos in the file. She lingered over each one for what seemed like an eternity. Occasionally, a smile touched her lips, but that was her only visible reaction.

Eventually she turned to Moira. “You took these this morning?”

“I was walking by the green and saw the children. I couldn’t stop myself from taking their pictures.”

“A couple of them are my grandchildren,” Megan said. “Didn’t you recognize them?”

Moira was dumbstruck. “I should have, shouldn’t I? I was so focused on the shots, I wasn’t really looking for O’Briens.”

“I’m going to want prints of them for myself and for their parents,” Megan told her. “More important, I’d like you to consider building a portfolio while you’re here. If you do that, perhaps we can talk about a showing at my gallery sometime down the road.”

Moira’s mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I’m serious,” Megan said. “I’m thinking it could be called The Faces of Chesapeake Shores or something like that. The locals will go crazy for it and collectors will snap them up. I don’t know what you were told in Ireland, but you capture the heart of people. I know because I see little Mick’s exuberance and Davy’s energy. And the little girl who’s in tears as another child walks away dragging a pull toy is priceless.

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