Captain Heartbreaker (Havenbrook Book 4)

by Brighton Walsh

  “I’m so excited for the wedding!” Ava squealed, hands clasped together and tucked under her chin. “And I can’t wait to try on my dress. It’s so pretty.”

  Ella groaned, and while Mac wanted to, she kept that feeling locked up tight. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her sister to be happy, or that she wanted to spoil her day in any way. It was more she just…didn’t understand. She didn’t comprehend why getting married had to involve this huge, stressful event full of shit—expensive shit—they were never going to use again, all the while being surrounded by people they barely spoke to. Ruby could take care of that at town hall for twenty bucks.

  But Mac had learned early on that Will did see the value in all those things—and so did Ava—so Mac shut her mouth and supported them both. But inside, she felt a whole lot like Ella, which was to say she’d rather be out in the wilderness, peeing in bushes and avoiding poison ivy, than messing with all this nonsense.

  “Are you goin’ with Will for the cake tasting?” Mac asked.

  “Of course!” Ava bounced in the seat, her age—where it was practically the law to play it cool—no match for her excitement.

  “I am too.” Ella poked her head between the seats and grinned her toothless smile. “It’s the only good part of this whole stupid thing! At least I get cake, even if I have to wear a stupid, fancy dress.”

  Mac stifled a laugh—Ella was her soul sister, through and through, whereas Ava and Will were two peas in a pod. “You sure say stupid a lot.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “At least you can wear your Chucks with your dress, though, right?”

  “I guess,” she grumbled. “Wish I could just wear jeans too.”

  “You’d look dumb if you did that.” Ava rolled her eyes.

  “You’d look dumb,” Ella snapped, leaning up close and getting right in her sister’s face.

  Ah, sibling rivalry. Depending on the day, they were either the best of friends or the worst of enemies. And Lord, did they push each other’s buttons. Kind of like what Mac and her sisters had done their whole lives.

  The three of them pulled up to the back of the main house, and Ella was out of the golf cart, bright green hat left behind on the seat, before Mac had even come to a complete stop.

  “What’ve I told you about that, Ella Jane?” Mac yelled.

  “Sorry!”

  The little shit didn’t sound sorry at all, but Mac couldn’t hold it against her. She had places to go and woods to explore. “I put some new flags out there last week,” Mac called. “Let me know how many you find.”

  Her only response was a wave, and then Ella disappeared into the brush.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me.” Mac climbed out of the golf cart, Ava close behind. “You sure you don’t wanna go out there with her instead of helpin’ inside?”

  Ava shrugged. “I don’t like gettin’ dirty. Plus, I like hearin’ what y’all talk about.”

  Mac’s lips tipped up on the side. She remembered being Ava’s age—too young to be considered an adult, but feeling too old to do the kid stuff. Stuck in this strange in-between where you weren’t quite sure how you fit.

  She hooked her arm around Ava’s shoulders and tugged her into her side. “Well, I like havin’ you in there with us, so that works out just fine with me.”

  Ava beamed up at her, and Mac felt like she’d won the lottery. Not many people looked at her like that, and she wasn’t sure how much longer her nieces would, but she’d take it while it lasted. These amazing kids never saw her as the grand sum of all her failures like everyone else did, and it was a hell of a reprieve from what Mac had been facing for years.

  AS SOON AS they walked through the back door, Mac knew something was off. For one thing, there were no scents—no chicken or pot roast, no cinnamon hanging in the air from an apple pie baked earlier in the day. And then there was her momma’s voice, strong and clear—the tone one she’d used on the girls only a handful of times in their lives. The one that said she meant business, and now was not the time to push.

  “Dammit, Richard, you will listen to what Dr. Snyder said, or so help me…”

  “Now, sweetheart, I said I would, and I will,” Mac’s daddy said, his tone the schmoozing one she absolutely loathed. “But can’t we start next week?”

  Mac’s brow furrowed, remembering what Edna had said the other day about seeing Daddy coming out of the clinic. Maybe something was wrong and it wasn’t just a man cold.

  She and Ava rounded the corner into the kitchen and found her parents facing off at the eat-in island. Her momma stood, hands on hips, in front of where her daddy sat, glaring down at him. As for him, he was the picture of ease, totally unperturbed by Momma’s ire.

  “Momma? Daddy? What’s goin’ on?”

  Her momma’s head snapped up to Mac, her eyes flying to Ava before she closed them on a shuddering sigh. She brought her hand to her forehead and shook her head. “Sunday supper. I completely forgot.” She let her arms drop to her sides. “We’ve been at urgent care all afternoon.”

  Mac’s eyes shot to her dad, running over every inch of him, as if she could sleuth out whatever ailment he had. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, honey.” Daddy waved her off. “Nothing at all.”

  Momma glared down at him, her mouth pressed in a firm line. “It’s not nothing, and if you don’t start treatin’ this as the big deal it is, we’re gonna have an issue.”

  “Okayyyy.” Mac darted her eyes between her parents, picking up the obvious clues that some real shit was going down. “How about I call Rory and Will and see if they can bring something for supper?”

  Momma breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded, before leaning down and whispering to Daddy, her tone low enough that Mac couldn’t hear.

  She turned to Ava. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and see if Gran’s awake from her afternoon nap yet.”

  Ava’s eyes met Mac’s, worry and uncertainty swarming in them.

  “Papa’s fine.” Mac squeezed Ava’s hand and lifted her chin toward her daddy. “See? He’s over there arguin’ with Nana like usual. Go on now.”

  Ava bit her lip, but after a brief hesitation, she strode toward the back staircase, and Mac exhaled. She pulled out her phone and sent a group text to Rory and Will.

  Either of y’all have anything on hand you can bring over for supper?

  Less than a minute passed before a response came in from Rory. I’ve got a casserole in the freezer.

  As Mac was typing a reply, Will’s text came in.

  Wait…why do we need to bring supper? Is Momma okay?

  Mac glanced toward the kitchen where her parents continued bickering, still in hushed tones so she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Momma’s fine, but something’s up with Daddy. Idk details yet. Hurry up so we can discuss.

  Rory: Grabbing the food and heading out right now.

  Will: Be there in 5

  Mac pocketed her phone, tiptoed toward the kitchen, then stood just out of sight, hoping to glean something from her parents’ conversation.

  “Dr. Snyder said a heart healthy diet, Richard, and that does not include fried chicken,” Momma said, her tone firm and exasperated.

  “Well, certainly he doesn’t mean that for the rest of my life! I can’t go without fried chicken forever, Caroline.”

  “You’re gonna go without it until I tell you otherwise. And no more of those damn cigars either.”

  “You can’t take those away too!”

  “I can and I did. I already threw them away.”

  “What?” Daddy nearly shouted. “Do you have any idea how much those cost?”

  “Do you have any idea how little I care?”

  Mac barely held in her laughter. It wasn’t often her momma got this feisty—that she heard, anyway—but Mac absolutely loved it when she did.

  “No more fried food. No more cigars. And tomorrow, you’re gonna start using the country club’s gym and do some ligh
t cardio like suggested.”

  Daddy groaned, long and loud, sounding not much older than his granddaughters. “Sweetheart, this whole mess today doesn’t constitute all that. The EKG was all right. They’re just puttin’ me on Lasix as a preventative. I hardly think all this is necess—”

  A loud cracking noise made Mac jump, and she peered around the corner to see her momma’s hand firmly on the island as she leaned over Daddy. “Dammit, Richard, you’re gonna take this seriously, or so help me God, I will make your life a livin’ hell. Do you understand? You think no fried chicken is the worst thing I can do to you? How about plain salads with no dressin’ for every meal?”

  “Now, don’t go—”

  “And if you think I can’t make it so no restaurant will serve you, you’ve underestimated me. I know the name and birth weight of every restaurant owner in town. Try me.”

  It was quiet for long moments, and even Mac held her breath, peering around the corner at her parents, her eyes wide.

  “Fine,” Daddy finally grumbled, his tone that of a spoiled child not getting his way for the first time. “I dunno why you’re gettin’ so snippy about it.”

  Mac could practically see the smoke billowing out of her momma’s ears, so she figured now was a good time to interrupt before her momma actually strangled the big oaf who was too dumb to realize when he was being an idiot. “Will and Rory are on their way. Rory’s bringin’ a casserole.”

  Her momma exhaled a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. “Thank you, honey. The girls okay?”

  Mac knew her momma meant the little girls—when the next generation came along, the previous one didn’t get asked about often. “Ella’s out huntin’ for the new flags I put out, and Ava’s gettin’ Gran.”

  Momma nodded, and before Mac could ask what was going on, the back door opened, and in strode her sisters. Rory studied the room, her eyes assessing Momma and Daddy, then the spotless kitchen—something that never happened on Sundays—before narrowing back on their parents. Will’s gaze was more frantic, her eyes running over their father as if checking for any outward sign of injury.

  “Momma,” Rory said, walking over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before doing the same to their father. “Daddy. I’m just gonna pop this in the oven. Shouldn’t take but a little while.”

  “I don’t suppose that’s fried chicken, is it?” Daddy asked, eyes hopeful.

  “Richard James Haven, what did I—”

  “Okay, all right.” Daddy held up his hands in surrender. “I was only jokin’.”

  “If you ‘joke’ with me one more time, I’m gonna lock you in the bedroom and add a pass-through slot like they have in prisons. Then we’ll see how much you feel like jokin’.”

  Mac’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes meeting first Rory’s, then Will’s. They each wore the same shocked expression.

  “Now, don’t go talkin’ crazy, sweetheart. Who’s gonna run the city if I’m stuck at home? I know the doctor said I need to take some time off, but I just can’t do that right now. I’ve got meetings scheduled every day this week and next.” Daddy looked at Will, eyebrows raised. “Isn’t that right? We’ve got all those plannin’ meetings with the city council to discuss redoing several roads around town. Plus the new park they want to install. And then there’s the Christmas parade. I can’t just cancel them because a few tests came back slightly bad.”

  “Slightly bad?” Momma snapped. “For Christ’s sake, Richard, take your butt upstairs and lie down right now.”

  “But—”

  “Now, before you give me a heart attack. We’ll figure it out because you are taking some time off. I don’t wanna hear another word against it.”

  Daddy huffed but apparently wasn’t a complete idiot because he heaved himself off the chair, tucking his pants up under his protruding belly, and trudged upstairs without another word.

  The four of them were silent for a few moments after Daddy had gone, no doubt each of them making sure the surly old man was out of hearing range.

  Rory broke the silence. “What’s goin’ on, Momma?”

  She rested her hands on the counter, head hanging between her shoulders like she was too tired to hold it up any longer. “Let’s get your sister on the phone and make sure Gran’s down here so I don’t have to say this more than once.”

  Mac exchanged worried glances with her sisters, but without a word, the three of them sprang into action. Will plucked her phone from her purse to FaceTime Nat, Rory intercepted Ava when she and Gran came down the stairs and directed her elsewhere so the grown-ups could talk, and Mac hooked her arm through Gran’s, guiding her toward the dining room table.

  “Guess my son’s been causin’ quite a ruckus,” Gran said.

  “You know Daddy.” Mac pulled out Gran’s chair for her, then took the seat to her left. “Always needs to be in the spotlight.”

  Once the five of them were seated and Nat’s face filled the phone screen, their momma folded her hands on the table and took a deep breath. “Your daddy’s been complainin’ of a few things lately—more so than usual. He went to the clinic the other day, but I swear all he did was shoot the breeze with Dr. Snyder because the doctor wasn’t aware of any of the issues when we went into urgent care today.”

  “What’s the matter?” Will asked, her brow creased.

  “He’s been havin’ some persistent leg cramps and swelling and shortness of breath. He’s also been complainin’ about stomachaches throughout the day. Any one of those separately wouldn’t be a big deal, but all three together had me worried—especially after I Googled them.” She took a deep breath, her fingers pressed to her temples. “They’re precursors to a heart attack, so I dragged his butt to urgent care right away to get him checked out. They did an EKG, and it looked okay. But with all his symptoms, they gave him a prescription to help remove excess fluid and sent him home with strict instructions to take it easy. And that man, God love him, but he refuses to do anything easy.”

  “’Course not,” Nat said, rolling her eyes on-screen.

  “What can we do?” Will asked, worry lacing her voice.

  “Make sure he’s doin’ what he’s supposed to and not doin’ anything he isn’t,” Momma said. “Which, I’m sure you know, will be a full-time job for about ten people. Your daddy doesn’t like bein’ told no.”

  Mac crossed her arms over her chest. “We can handle him.” In fact, it would give her great pleasure to boss her father around—it was just the cherry on the sundae that doing so would help keep him safe.

  Rory nodded. “We can get the word out, too. Make sure everyone in town knows what’s goin’ on so he can’t slip anything past us.”

  “That’s good thinkin’, because he’ll try to sneak anything he can, the little shit,” Gran said.

  Momma cracked a smile. “Gran’s right.” The smile slipped from her face, and her tone sobered. “And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you girls, but your daddy’s the same age as Gramps was when he passed away from his heart attack.”

  The table went quiet, and Mac met her sisters’ gazes, all of them radiating worry and concern. Mac had been young when their grandpa—Gran’s husband—had passed, but she still felt the hollow ache from his absence nearly two decades later. She didn’t share the same special bond with her daddy that she’d had with her grandpa, but she couldn’t deny she’d feel his loss just as painfully.

  After a few moments of silence, Rory cut in, her tone all business as she picked up her phone and poked around, no doubt pulling up her digital calendar. “All right, then. Let’s figure this out. I could move some things around and hire out contractors to oversee the projects I’m workin’ on for King Haven. But there’s a ton of upcomin’ school activities this month, plus the girls’ extracurriculars.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sure Nash would help where he can because he doesn’t have any out-of-town projects this month.”

  “I’ll do what I can at town hall, but I’m already there from sunup to sundown anyway since Daddy f
ired his latest assistant,” Will said. “I can delegate a few things to Avery to handle so I can take on more of Daddy’s work.” She bit her lip, her brow creasing. “Dammit, wait… I have wedding stuff lined up almost every day for the next couple weeks that can’t be postponed anymore. Unless…” She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. “Maybe Finn and I should push back the wedding?”

  “Heavens, no. You’re not pushin’ back it back,” Momma said, reaching out and resting her hand over Will’s. “Maybe Nat can—”

  Nat shook her head on-screen. “Sorry, Momma, but I’m in Greece. I’m scheduled to be in Belize in two days, then I fly to Morocco for a week. These take months of plannin’. I can’t—”

  “’Course not,” Gran said, cutting in. “And as much as I’d love to see Nat runnin’ this town, I think that’d send my son into an early grave.”

  Mac watched the conversation volley between everyone else at the table, a hollow ache deep in her chest making itself known. She was the obvious choice to shoulder some of this burden—or maybe it was only obvious to her? She didn’t have an important career that ate up all her time. She had no kids, no husband, no wedding to plan. She wasn’t gallivanting all over the world—or even the state. She was hanging out in Havenbrook, gobs of unaccounted-for time as compared to the rest of them, but apparently she wasn’t a good fit.

  She tried not to let her discouragement show, because heaven knew the last thing someone with her track record should be doing was filling in for the freaking mayor. If that happened, she’d probably have Havenbrook bankrupted before the end of the week.

  “Wait a minute.” Will slapped her hand to her forehead. “We’re all idiots.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Nat interrupted.

  Will continued as if their youngest sister hadn’t spoken. “We’ve been thinkin’ too hard. The answer is right in front of us.” She rolled her eyes as everyone glanced around, then gestured to Mac. “Mac is the obvious choice. Not only is she great at public relations—exactly what Daddy needs now durin’ these meetings—but I know Finn, Nola, and Drew can figure something out at The Willow Tree for a bit until Daddy’s back up and runnin’.”