When A Man Loves A Woman (Seven Brides Seven Brothers Book 7)

by Calhoune, Belle

  Mac rubbed his stomach. “No way. With every bite I’m going to be thanking my lucky stars I bid on your pie. You have no idea how painful it is to share peach pie with six brothers.”

  Delilah let out a delightful laugh that made him feel as if he’d accomplished a wonderful thing by saying something she thought was funny.

  The tradition for the pie auction was to have the baker of the pie and the successful bidder sit down together to enjoy the pie and a bit of polite conversation. Suddenly, Mac couldn’t think of anything he’d like better than to share some pie with Delilah.

  “I’m starving. Can we sit down somewhere and enjoy some of this pie?” Although he threw the offer out casually, he felt anything but relaxed about her answer. He would be extremely disappointed if she said no. All of a sudden he found himself wondering why he’d been so opposed to being set up with Delilah. He hadn’t known that much about her as a person, so his shooting Blue down had been an act of stubbornness against the idea of being the object of a matchmaking scheme. Now, he was interested in finding out more about Delilah Dalton.

  “Sure. That sounds great. I can bring you up to speed on a few interesting things I stumbled across in the database.” She smiled at him. “I did a little digging.”

  Wow. Had Delilah stumbled across a lead with regards to Callie? He reminded himself not to get his hopes up. This whole endeavor was a long shot. Hope. He had to remember to hold fast to hope and not let go. This investigation might have a lot of twists and turns.

  “I’d like that,” Mac said, leading Delilah to a spot under a shady Oak tree. Although several picnic tables had been set up on the property, Mac felt the need for a quieter atmosphere. As they passed by several tables it was hard to ignore the curious stares and whispers. He imagined that by nightfall the townsfolk would be in full gossip mode about a possible romance between him and Delilah. He half expected a few calls from his brothers, none of whom were at today’s event.

  When they reached the tree it dawned on him that Delilah might not want to sit on the ground. She was wearing a pretty skirt after all. He turned toward her, fully intending to ask her if she wanted to head back toward the picnic tables. She was already seated on the ground with her skirt smoothed down and her shapely legs crossed. He sat himself down beside her and deposited the picnic basket on the ground next to them.

  “This is a perfect spot,” Delilah said as she craned her neck to look up at the branches. “This tree gives amazing shade.” Her face held a look of pleasure that reminded him of a little kid. It was nice, he realized, to be in the company of a woman who could revel in the beauty of nature. God’s landscape.

  “Mind if I open the basket?” Mac asked. He could hardly contain his excitement about sampling the pie.

  “Of course not. It’s yours. You paid quite a lot for a peach pie and some sparkling cider.”

  Mac swung his gaze up from the basket. “There’s sparkling cider in here? Score!”

  Delilah grinned at him, showcasing a pearly smile. Her cheeks were rosy. Although she had never seemed like the shy type, he was finding out that she responded to praise with a hint of embarrassment.

  Mac opened up the basket and took out the peach pie along with two forks. He took out the sparkling cider and two small plastic cups. Small dessert plates were at the bottom. He placed a plate in front of her, along with a fork.

  “Maybe you should do the honors,” Mac suggested, holding out the knife. His fingers brushed against Delilah’s as she took the knife from him. Her skin was soft. He looked down at his own callused and rough hands. Woodworking didn’t lend itself to beautiful hands. But his hands were strong and powerful. Mac gave God constant praise for allowing him to work at a craft he loved and for giving him the skilled hands to do so.

  As Delilah sliced up the pie and they both began eating their portions, they enjoyed a companionable silence. Mac helped himself to another slice while Delilah could barely finish the first one. The pie was sweet and succulent. His taste buds were rejoicing as the juicy peaches hit his tongue. The crust had been baked to perfection. It crumbled in his mouth. “Mmm. This is really delicious.”

  “Worth one hundred bucks?” she teased. Her blue eyes flashed. A strand of her red hair fell across her forehead. An artist could make a fortune sketching Delilah. Her movements were natural and full of grace. Her beauty was radiant. He was having a hard time focusing on conversation when she looked this beautiful.

  “It was money well spent,” Mac said.

  Delilah took a bite of her pie and for a few moments they simply sat and enjoyed the delicious treat.

  Delilah placed her plate down on the grass. “So, I found something interesting in the database. I located your information, Mac. Nothing whatsoever about Callie. No file. Nothing under Callie or Caledonia Monahan.”

  Mac felt his spirits sink. The ache of disappointment pierced him like a knife. Although he’d known this quest was a long-shot, it still hurt to be met with dead ends.

  “But I did find something that might help,” Delilah said.

  “What did you find?” Suddenly, his heart was thrumming like crazy. In a matter of seconds he’d gone from despair back to hope.

  “A newspaper article on microfiche. I converted it to digital once I found an article about your case.”

  He knit his brows together. “An article? About me?” The news was shocking. He’d never known about a newspaper article.

  Delilah’s expression turned somber. “Yes, Mac. It was a short item in the Farmington, Massachusetts Gazette, but it detailed how you were removed from the home and how the police were looking for your mother and stepfather. ”

  Mac’s mouth felt dry. “And it only mentioned me? Not Callie.”

  “Yes, although your actual name wasn’t mentioned. Just your age and the circumstances. They probably didn’t print your name due to laws about publishing information about minors. It references your mother’s name which is how Monahan came up in my search. And there’s a picture of you sitting in the back of the ambulance. There must have been a journalist there that night and a news photographer. And there’s a little girl in the photo…just a little shot of her in the corner of the frame. She appears to be about five or so with long hair. She’s wearing a unicorn shirt.”

  “Callie,” Mac said in a raspy voice. “I remember that shirt. She got it for her birthday.”

  A chill raced down his back. Despite the spring weather, goosebumps popped up on his arms.

  “So this is proof right? Proof that she really does exist?” he asked in a ragged voice.

  She bit her lip. “It might be, Mac. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but I think it might be her in the newspaper photo. The pictures are on my computer. And the article also. You’re welcome to come by and take a look whenever you want or you can stop by my office.”

  “I’d like that,” Mac said. “Let me know when. I’m eager to see it.”

  “Even more importantly, I’m sure there were more photos taken that night. The real question in my mind is—does the photographer have other photos from that night? And if so, maybe you can use that photo in the search for Callie.”

  Mac was stunned. In a matter of days Delilah had uncovered what might be the only image of Callie on film. It was staggering news. He couldn’t even think of words in the English language that could even begin to capture the gratitude he felt toward Delilah. She had gone above and beyond in order to help him.

  “Saying thank you doesn’t seem hardly enough, Delilah. I’m blown away.” He ran a hand over his face. “It’s almost too much to process.”

  She reached over and touched his hand. “Take your time, Mac. You’ve been waiting twenty years for proof. Don’t rush yourself. You need to absorb this information.”

  “I thought that was you sitting way over here, Mac.” Mac swung his gaze up at the sound of his mother’s cheery voice. She was standing in front of them with a huge smile plastered on her face. His father was next to her. The
y were wearing matching Bermuda shorts and brightly colored polo shirts.

  Ma jumped to his feet and swept his mother up in a warm hug. She pressed a kiss against his cheek. “It’s so nice to see you and Sarah.”

  “Delilah, Maggie. It’s Delilah,” Alec corrected. “Sarah’s sister.”

  “I messed up again, didn’t I?” Maggie asked, looking over at Alec, her lips trembling. Mac’s stomach twisted at the fragile look on his mother’s face. Little by little dementia was chipping away at his brave, strong mother. These slip-ups were happening more often now, as well as more serious incidents they could no longer ignore.

  “You’re fine, sweetheart,” Alec said in a tender voice. He reached out and entwined his fingers with hers. “Remember honey, Delilah is Sarah’s sister.”

  “Yes, I remember,” she said with a firm shake of her head. She sent Delilah a sweet smile. “Good to see you again.”

  Mac knew she didn’t remember Delilah and it scared him. A week ago at the barbecue she’d recognized Delilah, yet now, mere days later, things were fuzzy. He felt like reaching out and wrapping his mother up in his strong, protective arms where nothing could hurt her. And if he could stop time right now he would, if only to prevent the worsening of her disease and the sabotage of her memories.

  Delilah got up and gave Maggie a hug. His mother looked slightly uncomfortable, which wasn’t at all like her. She was the best hugger on the planet. He imagined it was like hugging a stranger you didn’t know or recognize. Mac watched Delilah. She seemed to sense Maggie’s reticence and immediately backed off, choosing instead to compliment his mother on her colorful outfit. Maggie lit up like a Christmas tree as Delilah fussed over her attire.

  Mac let out a relieved sigh. So many people were clueless to the journey his mother was on. There were so many cues given by individuals suffering from dementia. To be fair, a lot of people in Breeze Point weren’t aware of Maggie’s condition, although he knew Delilah was privy to it based on her being an extended member of the Donahue family. Thankfully, Delilah had picked up on Maggie’s distress. Her compassion and gentleness with his mother traveled straight to his heart at the speed of light.

  If he hadn’t already sensed that Delilah Dalton was shaping up to be an important person in his life, the events of today cemented it. As Delilah glanced over him and sent him an encouraging smile, he felt his palms moistening and his pulse racing. For most of his adult life he’d heard people talk about that moment when you were in the presence of “the one.” The one who was unlike any other woman who entered your world. The one who made you feel things you had never felt before. The one who threw everything in your life into question.

  How was this happening to him? He had always been the Donahue least likely to fall in love. And it wasn’t as if he loved Delilah…not yet anyway. But these feelings stirring inside him were one of a kind. Way beyond anything he’d ever felt before for a woman. And it was way more than gratitude for Delilah having uncovered a huge puzzle piece in the mystery surrounding Callie’s disappearance.

  He swallowed past the huge lump sitting in his throat. He was unable to speak as the knowledge swept over him. Delilah could be the one. The one who might own his heart. On some level perhaps this was why he’d been resisting getting to know Delilah more and the matchmaking efforts of his family members. Deep down he’d been resisting the power of this connection. Love made people helpless didn’t it? And ever since he’d been an abused little boy stuck in a basement he had vowed never to be helpless again.

  His father was staring at him with a strange expression on his face. Leave it to Alec Donahue to be attuned to the raw emotions of his sons.

  Alec moved toward him as Delilah continued her conversation with his mother. His father stood face to face with him and looked straight into his eyes.

  “Are you okay, son?” He reached out and patted Mac’s cheek. “That look on your face. If you’re worried about Mom not recognizing Delilah, it’s par for the course. Going forward, we all have to expect this to happen with more frequency.” A sigh slipped past his lips. “I know it’s not easy. But if we all support each other and Maggie, it’ll be better for all of us.”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s not easy seeing her decline, but I think we’ve all been bracing for moments like this.” Mac didn’t say the words out loud, but he was pretty certain his father knew that it still broke all their hearts.

  “So what is it?” Alec narrowed his gaze. “Is it something about Delilah?” he asked in a low voice. “I have to admit, it threw me a little to see the two of you here together. You’ve been pretty adamant about not going out with her.”

  “I have been stubborn and pig-headed,” he admitted. “But now, everything feels so different. Being in her presence…I’m having a hard time putting it into words.”

  Alec flashed a brilliant smile. The familiar rumble of his laughter rang out. “There’s a spark between the two of you. Even a blind man could see it. It’s natural, Mac. Don’t fight it so much. If you and Delilah find something wonderful together, I’ll be the first one to throw the confetti. But there’s also the chance of developing a wonderful friendship with her. Even if that’s all that happens, consider yourself blessed.”

  Dad was right. He was blessed. He’d known that for a long time. His life was rich with family, friends and good fortune. Although he appreciated the pep talk, he knew his father was wrong about one thing. From this point forward, having a friendship with Delilah would be impossible. Although he wasn’t a man who harbored a lot of dreams for his future, he was beginning to dream about something infinitely more romantic developing with Delilah. It excited him. Inspired him. And terrified him at the same time.

  “God works in mysterious ways. For so long I tried to get pregnant and carry a baby in my womb. In the end, God showed me a different path to motherhood. We never know when our blessings will show up. But when they do appear, we need to open up our arms and embrace them.”

  Maggie Donahue

  Chapter Four

  It was barely two o’clock in the afternoon and the day was already proving to be a challenging one. Rusty’s call from the auto shop had confirmed her worst fears. Lucy was a goner. Her car was toast. And now she was going to have to do some research to figure out Lucy’s replacement. Thankfully a few friends had promised her rides to and from work and to social engagements until she purchased a used car. She felt grateful that she had a little money stashed away for emergencies.

  Her interlude with Mac at the church picnic yesterday had been delightful. Mac making that outrageous bid on her peach pie had been a stunning moment, one she would carry in her heart forever. It was a noble act from a kind soul. It had spared her the embarrassment of receiving the lowest bid on her pie. She shouldn’t be so concerned about such things, but with her ex-boyfriend, Tim, smirking from the audience, it had given her a thrill of satisfaction to have the highest bid placed. Tim had been open mouthed. Mac’s act of chivalry had wiped the grin right off Tim’s face.

  She let out a sigh. Tim Sutton tested her grace on a weekly basis. Several friends had let her know just how far he’d gone in his vendetta toward her. It made her feel angry and frustrated that he couldn’t just walk away from their relationship with even a small measure of class. He had made it his mission in life to badmouth her. Some of the things that had been brought to her attention by her friends had been humiliating. And slanderous. All lies! All of her attempts to smooth things over with him had been disastrous. Tim was stuck on the fact that she’d ended their relationship after discovering his infidelity. Rather than being ashamed of himself, Tim had placed the blame squarely on her shoulders. When she’d refused to get back together with him, he’d made it apparent that he would trash her reputation wherever and however he could. And he’d tormented her ever since.

  She looked at the antique clock on her mantelpiece. The beautiful Seth Thomas clock had been bestowed to her by her grandmother, Lottie, in her will. Ever since she was a chil
d she’d been fascinated with the stunning, mahogany piece. It was an heirloom that she would one day pass down to her own children. God willing.

  It was almost two-thirty. Mac would be coming by soon to take a look at the information she’d digitized from the Farmington Gazette. Delilah didn’t know why she felt so nervous about seeing Mac again. After all, the time she’d been spending in his presence only reinforced the fact that he was a pretty amazing man. Still and all, her nerves were on edge. In the last hour she had arranged and rearranged the pillows on her living room couch at least a dozen times or more. Her house was spotless, or at least as pristine as it got in her world. She wasn’t the neatest person if the truth be known. On any given day mail tended to be scattered across her kitchen counter while her chocolate lab, Zoey, constantly shed on her carpets. It was organized chaos.

  A house was meant to be a home, not a showcase. Her home was well lived in and well loved. Her dog was a huge part of her life. All dogs ever asked for was to love and be loved. If Zoey shed a little each day she could deal with it. The love and affection she showered on Delilah was massive.

  She looked around her home. Flowers from her garden were always placed in a vase, adding color to her world. At the moment she had a bunch of pink roses mixed with a few wild flowers. She had baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies using her famous Dalton family recipe. In making the cookies she’d forgotten all about the fact that Mac hailed from a family that specialized in baked goods. No doubt he’d tasted the best sweets in all of New England.

  The ringing of the doorbell caused her to take a quick look in the hallways mirror. Her hair looked fine, although her complexion looked a bit pale. With her creamy skin it was hard to tan or get some sun. She had a tendency to burn. Wide blue eyes stared back at her. An anxious expression was etched on her face.

  “You’re fine,” she told her reflection. “He’s just stopping by to look at your computer. It’s not as if this is a date or anything.”