Henry took all of two steps and turned back, his young eyes filled with doubt. “We will begin my lessons tomorrow?”
Mac shook his head. “Not in the light of day; but I give you my word we’ll have our first lesson tomorrow night. We’ll go on a hike tomorrow instead, and find a clearing in the forest we can use.” He leaned down to look Henry level in the eyes. “And you will give me your word that you’ll not tell anyone, including Sophie, what we’re doing, if you don’t want to feel the flat of my sword on your backside. Understand?” he asked, stifling a smile when his son vigorously nodded.
Mac straightened. “The same rules apply to your lessons as to everything else we’ve talked about. The less people know about us, the better for everyone.”
The boy nodded even more vigorously.
Mac shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know what a burden it is to keep secrets, Henry, especially at your age and especially when those secrets don’t even make sense to you half the time. And I’m really proud of you for handling them as well as you have. A lot has happened to you in the last few months, and… well, I want you to know that every day I thank the gods you’re my son.”
Reading his intentions, Mac crouched down just as Henry charged toward him, catching him and straightening with an exaggerated grunt when the boy threw his arms around his neck in a bear of a hug.
“I’m glad you’re my dad,” Henry whispered. He leaned away just enough to look Mac in the eyes, his young eyes glistening with emotion. “I wished and wished for you to come for me after Mama died,” he said, his voice quivering. “Because she told me over and over how strong and powerful and good you were whenever I asked.”
“If I had known about you, Henry,” Mac said thickly, “I would have come for you immediately.” He walked to the smaller downstairs bedroom and lowered the boy to the floor, then cupped his face in his hands to make him look up. “Nothing—not even your uncles—would have kept me from you. And remember that if we somehow ever get separated in the future, all you have to do is make your way to the ocean and you will find the help you need to get back to me.”
Henry beamed up at him. “I know that now.” He let out a yawn. “I understand Misneach belongs to Fiona, but I miss him terribly. Can I have a puppy of my own?”
For the love of Zeus, the child changed directions like the wind! Realizing that if he didn’t get him in bed the boy was going to talk all night, Mac pulled back the blankets. “You can have a pet once we settle into a permanent home. Now strip off and climb in. It’s well past your bedtime.”
“But I haven’t brushed my teeth,” he said even as he pulled his shirt off over his head. “And you haven’t read to me from Aunt Carolina’s book.” He shed his trousers and underpants and kicked them to the side. “Tonight I was supposed to learn how Athena took Athens away from Poseidon.”
Mac stifled a sigh. “I’m afraid brushing your teeth six times a day isn’t going to stop them from falling out, son. And as for that particular war between the gods, the people of Athens decided they liked Athena’s gift better than they liked Poseidon’s,” he continued, lifting Henry into bed. He sat down beside him and tucked the blankets under the boy’s chin. “And so they chose Athena as their goddess.”
“What was her gift?”
“She planted an olive tree in the city, whereas Poseidon drove his trident into the ground at the Acropolis and created a spring.” Mac shrugged. “And deciding an olive tree was more useful, the people chose Athena as their patron.”
“Didn’t they know that water is necessary for life?”
“They preferred Athena’s gift because they could eat the olives, whereas they couldn’t drink from Poseidon’s spring because it was salt water.”
The boy arranged his stuffed whale under the blankets beside him with a frown. “But weren’t they afraid having a woman as their patron would leave them vulnerable to attack?” He snorted. “Because the gods were warring against each other all the time and people kept getting caught in the middle, they should have chosen Poseidon to protect them because he was stronger.”
“Ah, but Athena was known for her wisdom. And wisdom is far more powerful than brute strength, Henry. Which is why being big and strong and knowing how to wield a sword isn’t always enough; it takes wisdom to recognize if something is worth fighting over, so you can decide when to stand your ground and when to retreat to fight another day.” Mac patted Henry’s chest and stood up. “Now close your eyes and talk to your mama, and let me know in the morning if we need to buy you pajamas.”
“Sophie told me her mama is always running away from people,” Henry said just as Mac reached the bedroom door. “So does that mean Olivia is wise like Athena? Because I think Sophie believes her mama’s just scared of everyone.”
Mac could see he needed to start preparing for bedtime a good hour before he wanted Henry to go to sleep. “Why don’t you wait until you know Olivia better, and then decide for yourself if you think she’s wise or frightened? Good night,” he said with all the authority of a man nearing the end of his patience, closing the door to a crack before Henry could ask another question.
He walked back out to the porch, leaving the exterior door ajar so he could listen for movement inside, and stood staring toward Olivia’s home, which sat back in the woods well away from the main lodge.
Mac chuckled at how alike he and Henry truly were, since he’d found himself wondering the same thing about Olivia as he’d spent most of today trying to find her. But he hadn’t sensed any fear in her this morning when he’d offered to help her get Inglenook ready for the upcoming sessions; more like… discomfort. Which made him think Olivia wasn’t physically afraid of people but simply preferred to run away rather than deal with whatever they might want from her.
The woman did seem to have a hard time saying no. And Mac suspected she more often than not swallowed her anger to avoid engaging in open warfare. Which was probably why despite being a mere mortal, Olivia Baldwin had somehow mastered the difficult art of becoming invisible.
Even when she was standing in plain sight, it was as if she weren’t there. More than once today when he’d been ripping rotten boards off Inglenook’s endless spans of docks, Mac had looked up to find she’d disappeared. She walked with the stealth of a kitchen mouse, and when she spoke, usually only to give instructions, he’d found himself going very still and even having to cant his head to hear her.
He figured that following yesterday’s attack, Olivia had been as talkative as she got.
Something was weighing down her shoulders, he decided: some deeply rooted… sadness that accounted for her not wanting to draw attention to herself. And though she kept saying Eileen was the brains of their business, Mac would bet his bottomless satchel of money that without Olivia, Inglenook wouldn’t exist.
He wondered about her husband, and whether the sadness he sensed was because she missed him so much. When he’d carefully asked about Sophie’s father at breakfast this morning, John had told Mac that his son had died four years ago fighting in the war in Iraq. John had also mentioned—somewhat angrily, Mac had noticed—that before his death Keith had spent most of his marriage to Olivia away from home.
Four years was a long time to mourn a husband who hadn’t been around all that much to begin with, and Mac wondered why the beautiful and still-vital woman hadn’t moved on by now. Was Olivia so dedicated to Inglenook—which was her daughter’s birthright as John and Eileen’s only grandchild—that she didn’t dare make a new life for herself and daughter with another man? Or was she staying for some other reason?
Mac sighed, guessing that if he wanted to know what was going on behind those beautiful cinnamon eyes, he needed to know more about Olivia’s past.
Only that little miracle wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, was it?
Unless he could get Carolina to do a little snooping for him.
He folded his arms over his chest and scowled at the frozen lake. No; even if he could persuade h
er to help him, Carolina couldn’t access enough of the knowledge. Because according to Titus Oceanus, sons were destined to become their father’s heirs and daughters were destined only to provide those heirs to their husbands. Which was probably why, to this day, sons and daughters were still wrestling their fathers for control of their destinies—just as he and Carolina were continually fighting Titus for theirs.
Mac shoved his hands into his pockets. So far all he’d gained was a one-year reprieve from being forced to marry. And if in that time he couldn’t prove he was capable of being a good father to Henry, Titus would take the boy away from him and raise Henry himself.
Only Mac hoped the old man realized that in order for that to happen, he would have to rip the child out of his cold, lifeless hands.
Chapter Six
His ears tuned to the conversation taking place in the backseat about the pros and cons of having a long tail on a kite versus no tail at all, Mac took note of Olivia’s intrinsic grace as she crossed the street and disappeared into the trading post she’d asked him to stop at on the way to their picnic.
The picnic he’d ironically ended up having to persuade Henry to go on.
But upon seeing Olivia’s poorly disguised relief at breakfast when his son had informed Sophie he couldn’t go on their picnic because he was going on a hike with his dad, Mac had immediately decided they should spend the day with the ladies instead. So he’d taken Henry aside and assured him their sword lesson was still on for tonight, explaining they would have plenty of time to locate a suitable clearing in the woods if they left right after dinner.
Deciding two adventures in one day was almost as exciting as waking up to find a small sheathed sword hanging on his bedpost this morning, Henry had returned to the table and told Sophie they would love to go with her and her mama. Mac had bitten back a laugh as he’d watched Olivia’s shoulders slump, and smiled openly when she’d pulled her disappearing act again after muttering something about needing to go home and pack the lunch basket.
Mac knew he should feel bad about intruding where he clearly wasn’t wanted, but not only did the woman’s elusiveness spark his primordial desire to pursue her, but Olivia Baldwin also aroused his instincts to possess and protect.
Which should have been a problem, considering he was here to prove he’d put his wild bachelor ways behind him. But sometime in the early hours of his restless night’s sleep, Mac had started wondering why he’d assumed that parenting and pursuing women were mutually exclusive endeavors. He had to marry eventually, and he preferred to be the one choosing his bride. And there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t be a good father while he continued looking for a woman who wouldn’t run away screaming when she discovered who—or rather what—was asking for her hand in marriage.
Delia had known the who; it had been the what he hadn’t revealed to her.
So upon concluding that women were still fair game, Mac had fallen into a peaceful sleep—only to dream of pursuing a delectable little kitchen mouse with warm cinnamon eyes. And then this morning at breakfast, almost as if the gods were commending his reasoning by presenting him with the reluctantly offered invitation, he hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity to take up his pursuit in earnest.
As for the possessive and protective instincts Olivia unwittingly brought out in him… well, could a tiger change its stripes? If Titus had managed to pass down only one indelible trait to his rebellious son, Mac would say it was his compulsion to protect anything or anyone that belonged to him—even if that possession was only temporary.
“Oh no, Simon’s back from Chicago!” Sophie suddenly cried, staring at the car pulling into a parking spot several places ahead of them. She grabbed the door handle and looked at Mac. “I’ll be right back. I have to go in and warn Mom that he’s here.”
“Wait,” Mac said, hitting the lock button before she could get the door open. “You can’t just jump out into traffic. Why do you have to warn your mother that this Simon gentleman is in town?”
“So she can duck out the back door if he and Missy decide to go to Ezra’s before they go to the Drunken Moose for breakfast.” When Mac only arched a brow at her instead of releasing the lock, the young girl gestured impatiently toward the car. “Simon keeps bugging Mom to go out with him, and she doesn’t want to because he’s old and stuffy and… and full of himself.” She suddenly canted her head, her big brown eyes taking on a calculated shine. “Or you could go in and warn her instead. Simon wouldn’t dare ask Mom for a date if he thought you were her… if you were with her.”
The doors of the mud-splattered car opened, and Mac watched a middle-aged woman and gentleman get out. They stood speaking to each other for a moment, then both started walking across the street toward the trading post instead of the restaurant.
“Oh no, they are going to Ezra’s! Please, Mac, if you don’t want to pretend you’re Mom’s boy—that you’re like her date or anything, then at least let me go in and warn her. I’ll be careful crossing the road, I promise.”
Mac released the locks. “I believe we should all go in,” he said, getting out and opening Henry’s door, immediately taking the boy’s hand to hold him beside the truck.
Mac reached for Sophie when she got out behind Henry, but the girl tucked her hands behind her back. “I’m eight,” she said, her chin lifting defiantly. “I don’t need anyone to hold my hand to cross the road.”
“You do when your mother leaves you in my care,” he said, still holding out his hand. “If not for me, then do it as an example for Henry.”
“Just do it, Sophie,” Henry said. “We have to go save your mama again.”
Mac guessed it was the again that got the young girl to take his hand; either that or so she could drag him toward the store.
“I suppose your mother has a lot of men… bugging her for a date,” Mac said as they crossed the nearly deserted street. “Does she ever say yes to any of them?”
“Only Simon bugs her, because none of the other men around here are brave enough to ask her out.” Sophie released him the moment they reached the other side. “Gram says it’s because they don’t dare.”
Mac took hold of her jacket sleeve to stop her from opening the door and turned her to face him. “Why don’t they dare?” He smiled. “Are all the men afraid of your mother?”
“No, they’re afraid of my dad.” She nodded at his confusion. “When I saw Mom was all sad at our town Christmas party this year, I asked Gram why nobody was asking her to dance. And she said it was because all the men are afraid they won’t measure up to my dad because he was so handsome and strong and a war hero.”
Sophie started to open the door but stopped and looked up at him again. “I bet you wouldn’t be afraid to ask her out, but you can’t because you’re leaving in the fall. And besides, it’s against the rules to fran… to frantinize with the guests. But if you didn’t mind just pretending you’re her—that you and Mom are sort of a couple for the summer, Simon would leave her alone and she wouldn’t have to keep avoiding him.”
Mac opened the door and ushered Sophie and Henry ahead of him so they wouldn’t see his smile. Apparently he didn’t need Carolina to dig into Olivia’s past after all, since her daughter was such a bubbling fountain of information.
After whispering something to Henry, Sophie gave the boy a shove and the two of them ran off down separate aisles, clearly on a mission to find and subsequently save Olivia from her old and stuffy and full-of-himself suitor. The hunt might take them a while, though, Mac decided, as the store had quite a few aisles crammed full of everything from food to clothes to camping equipment, as well as—according to the sign in front of him—night crawlers, live bait, and ice-cold beer.
Another sign said this was also the place to rent ice fishing shanties.
Seeing only Simon’s sister talking to a much older gentleman at the back counter, Mac stood very still for a couple of heartbeats and then headed toward the far right-hand side of the store—where he found Ol
ivia trapped in an alcove crammed full of fishing gear, her escape cut off by his rival pursuer.
“Ah, here you are, sweetheart,” he said, reaching past the startled man to take hold of her jacket sleeve. “Our kids were getting worried you were taking so long.” He pulled her out of the alcove and wrapped his arm around her—ignoring her squeak when he snagged her against his side to keep her from bolting. “Did you find everything you need for our picnic?”
Only instead of trying to pull away like he expected, Olivia settled into him with a soft, feminine sigh. “I was looking for fishing line. Simon, this is Mac Oceanus. He and his son are guests at Inglenook. Mac, this is Simon Maher. He’s staying with his sister, Missy, who lives across the cove from us on Bottomless Lake until he buys a place of his own here in Spellbound Falls.”
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