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

by Calhoune, Belle

  Her phone had been buzzing like crazy ever since she’d left the barbecue. Humph. Left sounded way more dignified than scurried, which is how she had actually made her exit. She knew instinctively that it was her sister who kept calling her. Knowing Sarah and Blue would do a drive by unless she picked up her phone, she reached for her cell phone and slid her finger over the screen to answer it.

  “Sarah, I’m fine,” she said in a curt voice. She didn’t want Sarah to think she’d been crying into her pillow.

  “Then why have you been ducking my calls?” Sarah’s voice sounded wounded.

  “Because I wanted to hang on to the last shred of dignity I possess.”

  Sarah made a tutting sound. “I’m sorry about Mac. He didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  Delilah let out a harsh laugh. “I think he meant it exactly the way it sounded. It couldn’t have been more obvious. Or more humiliating.”

  “I’m sorry Lilah,” Sarah said, using her childhood nickname. “Mac is a blunt kind of guy.”

  “It’s not your fault. I know you were trying to do something nice for me.” She began to choke up. “But you can’t create my happy ending for me. It has to find me without getting a huge push from you. And you can’t force your brother-in-law to take me out.”

  She could hear Sarah sniffling on the other end of the line. “Y-you’re right. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy, Sarah. I’m just not in love. My knight in faded blue jeans hasn’t found me yet.” She began to giggle at the joke she and her sister had shared since they were kids. They had decided that knights in shining armor were stuffy, so they had come up with the idea of modern knights who would crash into their lives and sweep them off their feet. And when they showed up they’d be wearing blue jeans instead of rusty armor.

  Sarah’s tinkling laughter rang out on the line. “He’ll find you, sweetie. I know he will.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears. Kiss Faith for me okay. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her.” Her sweet, two month old niece was such a blessing in all of their lives. Focusing on her made everything else fade away. It also caused a huge longing within her to bring her own precious bundle into the world. But she knew that patience was a virtue. Her time would come.

  “Will do, sis,” Sarah said before they said their goodbyes.

  As Delilah made herself a cup of mint tea her mind wandered to her earlier encounter with Mac. He had looked genuinely upset that she had overheard his rant about her. Although she never would admit it in a million years to Sarah, there was something about Mac that intrigued her. She didn’t know if it was his strong, silent vibe or the fact that he seemed to welcome solitude rather than being in the presence of a crush of people. Mac was so unlike his brothers. It made her wonder what made him tick and what forces had shaped him into the man he was today.

  It didn’t really matter though. Mac Donahue had shown in no uncertain terms that he had zero interest in her.

  **

  Delilah sat in her medium-sized office overlooking downtown Breeze Point. Located right off Main Street, she was a short walk away from the best shops in town and some wonderful eateries. Not to mention Sweet Treats, the bakery owned by the Donahues. Her good friend Layla’s dance studio was also located on Main Street, right in the hub of things. Having just taken a cardio funk class there last week, Delilah could attest to her friend’s skills and prowess on the dance floor.

  She let out a sigh. Not only was Layla a talented and gorgeous woman, but she had won the heart of the youngest Donahue brother, Nick, who owned a popular restaurant in town called The Cove. No matter where she went in town she was surrounded by happy couples. Tess and Ryder Donahue were a perfect pair. Their tight friendship and work relationship had blossomed into love. Although she didn’t know them that well yet, Sarah had introduced her to Rose, Gabrielle and Kaitlyn, who were all married or engaged to Donahue men—Brandon, Remy and Wyatt. She had known Kaitlyn years ago, although they hadn’t attended the same school.

  All of the women seemed blissfully in love. Kaitlyn was planning her beach wedding to Wyatt, who was a local hero due to his being a famous baseball player for the Bay State Bombers.

  She didn’t know why her thoughts seemed to be so preoccupied with the Donahue clan. It wasn’t as if her own family wasn’t wonderful. She and Sarah had been raised in Breeze Point in a modest two story home a few blocks from Breezy Beach. Her parents had scrimped and saved to send them to private schools on their modest income as town officials. There had been lots of love in their home, courtesy of Peggy and Eric Dalton.

  Delilah shuffled through some papers on her desk. She was having a problem focusing today. She kept replaying the events that had taken place in the Donahue’s kitchen. Why hadn’t she told Mac Donahue that she didn’t want to date him either? Why had she been so tongue-tied and emotional? She had run out of the Donahue’s house as if her feet had been on fire. How awkward was that?

  At the moment the office was unusually quiet with almost everyone having ducked out for lunch. She’d opted to cover the office since she’d brought her lunch to work. Every now and again she met up with Layla or Sarah for lunch. Although she wasn’t a fan of hospital food, she had to admit that Breeze Point hospital did have wonderful cafeteria food. Sometimes she would scoot over there and meet Sarah at the hospital for a quick lunch and to catch up on each other’s lives. For the next four months Sarah would be on maternity leave from her nursing job. It was such a blessing that Blue was able to financially support the family while Sarah stayed home with Faith. His media business had been hugely successful.

  She took a huge bite of her sandwich then reached for her ice tea to wash it down. All of a sudden a noise caused her to swing her gaze toward the door of her office.

  Oh Dear Lord, this can’t be happening.

  Mac Donahue was standing at the threshold of her office, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a dark T-shirt.

  She began to cough as a tidbit of bread lodged in her throat. Oh please, no. I can’t choke in front of Mac. He already thinks I’m not date worthy. I want to hold on to a smidgeon of my self-respect.

  He frowned. “A-are you all right?”

  Miraculously, she managed to clear her throat as the piece of her sandwich finally went down the right pipe. She reached for her drink and took a swig. She cleared her throat again.

  “I-I’m fine. Something was lodged in my throat.”

  He nodded. “You work here?”

  “Obviously,” she murmured. Oops. That snarky tone of hers had slipped out. Perhaps she wasn’t over the events of this past weekend. But she couldn’t be flat out rude to Mac. In a strange way they were extended family, even though she barely knew the guy. He was Blue’s brother after all and a member of the fabulous Donahue family. Being rude to him might come back to haunt her.

  Mac stared her down. The look on his face wasn’t angry but assessing. As if he was sizing her up. It was strange how with one look he made her feel ashamed. Ashamed of her sharp tongue and for harboring a grudge about the comment he’d made about her at the barbecue. She should be above that type of pettiness. At the end of the day it didn’t matter.

  “I want to apologize. For the other day.” He shifted from one foot to the other, appearing distinctly uncomfortable. Whoa! The realization hit her that he was way more unsettled than she was. Which made sense since Sarah was constantly alluding to the fact that he shied away from people and tended to be a bit withdrawn. She couldn’t help but to have noticed his tendency to show away from social events. When a man who looked as good as Mac Donahue kept to himself, women began referring to him as brooding.

  Delilah didn’t even bother pretending not to know what he was referring to with his comment. His words from the barbecue still burned in her ears. The way he’d said her name—Delilah Dalton—had made it sound like she was something to be avoided like the plague.

  “It was nothing,” she said as warmth flushed her cheeks. Sh
e waved her hand in his direction as if to erase the events of the other day. “I’ve already forgotten it. Don’t worry about it.”

  He clenched his jaw. “That’s not true. It was…rude. And to be honest, it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with my brothers trying to set me up with every single woman in town.” Mac let out an aggravated sigh. “Being the last of the single Donahue brothers is sometimes a bit difficult.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. It seemed they had something in common after all. “Sounds familiar. I get it. Sarah does the same thing to me. I suppose they think they’re saving us from a lifetime of loneliness.”

  Mac nodded as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. Suddenly it made her feel as if she wasn’t so much of an oddity. There were others like herself who were constantly being fixed up by everyone they knew. Most times she felt as if she was the sole member of a lonely hearts club.

  “So,” he said, drawing out the word as he looked around. “If I had a question about social services would you be the one to ask?”

  “Sure. Is there something I can help you with?”

  For a moment he simply stood and stared at her. It was completely unnerving. Those gray eyes were piercing. And mesmerizing. His gaze threatened to leave her breathless.

  “I’m looking for someone.” He frowned. “Two people in fact.”

  Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser.

  “Okay. Who are they? Were they in the system?” Mac was being extremely vague. She had the feeling he was deliberately holding his information close to the vest.

  “First, I need to ask if this is kept confidential.” His face tightened up and he held his fists bunched up by his sides.

  “Of course it is. If you’re asking if I’ll repeat our conversation to Sarah or Blue or anyone for that matter, the answer is absolutely not. As a social worker I deal in private matters every single day. Confidentiality is crucial.”

  They locked gazes. Something about the intensity emanating from the depths of his gray eyes made her want to look away. She inhaled a breath. Why was she being so silly? She was a professional woman who was adept at dealing with all types of situations. Surely this was no different.

  “Why don’t you take a seat,” she offered.

  Mac took a seat in the cherry wood hard-backed chair across from her desk. It was amazing, she thought, that such a large man could even fit into such a modest sized chair. He was all arms and legs and broad shoulders.

  She took a quick look at her watch. “My next appointment won’t be here for a half hour. Shoot.”

  “I’m looking for my sister,” he blurted out.

  Sister? Mac had a sister?

  Delilah tried not to show her surprise. “A sister? Oh. I didn’t know. Sarah never mentioned you having a sibling.” She ran her hand through her hair.

  Mac leaned forward in his chair. His fingers were steepled in front of him. “I’ll give you the short version. Twenty years ago I was taken out of an abusive home along with my younger sister. Her name is Callie. Because I had sustained injuries at the hands of my step-father the police took me to the hospital. I stayed there for two days, then I was taken to a foster care agency. I never saw Callie again. There was never any indication of where she was sent or with whom. Matter of fact, all records pertaining to Callie were extinguished, from what I can gather. Everyone spent years telling me quite convincingly that there was no trace of her.” He let out a shudder. “Matter of fact, my adoptive parents were told there was no sister. At some point I gave up on the idea and put Callie out of my mind. It was the only way I could stay sane.”

  Delilah took a breath. She felt as if she’d been holding her breath ever since Mac began his story. And what a story it was. A sister who had disappeared without a trace? And now, all these years later he wanted to be reunited with her.

  “So what’s changed if you don’t mind my asking? Why now?” she asked.

  “I’ve spent decades pushing Callie to the back of my mind because I was so scared of being viewed as crazy. Back then I was so mixed up I started to wonder if she had been real.” He let out a harsh laugh. “But now, as an adult, I know she was real. She existed. I have genuine memories of the two of us together. The last day we were together is engrained in my memory.” His voice got soft. “And there’s a piece of me that won’t rest until I can find her. I was in Boston a few weeks ago looking for the woman who was in charge of my case for the foster care agency. Mrs. Worther. They worked hand in hand with social services. She retired a few years ago with no active address or phone number where I can find her. I’m using the services of a PI to try and locate Mrs. Worther, but until I can find something tangible about Callie there’s not even a thread of evidence they can follow.”

  “So you want me to check the social service records? I’m only privy to Massachusetts records. Was this your state of residence?”

  “Yes, we were living in Western Massachusetts. A town called Farmington.”

  “I can do a check for you Mac, but I’m not sure if the records from twenty years ago were digitized. There was a big scandal within social services a few years back related to all the files that were purged or missing. They may be sitting in a dusty warehouse somewhere.”

  Mac scratched his jaw. He didn’t look too happy at the moment, which she completely understood. He was looking for a needle in a haystack.

  “What was your birth name?”

  “Monahan. You should look under Callie Monahan. Or Caledonia Monahan.”

  “Caledonia? That’s an unusual name. Which is a good thing. It narrows the search possibilities.” She nodded at Mac.

  Mac smiled. “She never liked it. Which is why I always called her Callie.”

  “And your parents?”

  “My Mom…is deceased. Her name was Shirley. Shirley Monahan. I never knew my birth father. But my stepfather’s name was Frank Ripozzo.”

  She was writing all his information down on a sheet of paper. “Can he be tracked down perhaps to shed some light on what might have happened to your sister?”

  Mac’s jaw began to tremble. “You’d have to go to the cemetery to track him down. Twenty years ago he took my mother’s life and then his own.”

  Shock roared through her. She would definitely have remembered if Sarah had told her this tragic part of Mac’s past. “That’s terrible. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you.”

  His expression darkened. “I was numb. By the time it happened I was already in the foster care system being shuttled from home to home. It’s because of Frank that Callie and I ended up separated in the first place. He was an abuser…and my mother stood by and let him mistreat us.” Mac let out a sound that would have alarmed her if she hadn’t realized it was tied up in emotional pain.

  Delilah felt a sudden urge to lift his spirits up. From the sounds of it, he’d been to hell and back. Having worked with children who had experienced trauma, she knew the way it forever changed a person’s life. No doubt Mac had been shaped by his early life. It was tragic. Yet he’d been given an amazing gift by way of his adoptive family. The rainbow after the storm.

  “But you survived it, Mac. And you thrived as a member of the Donahue family. That’s your true gift. Having a place to belong. A home filled with unconditional love.”

  Their gazes held and locked. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that flustered her.

  “I need to get going.” He stood up abruptly and headed toward the door.

  “Wait! Don’t leave. I still have some questions for you that might help in the search.”

  He turned back toward her, his expression shuttered. “Thanks for your time, Delilah. I should have known better than to drag you into this.”

  Before she could say a word, he was gone. She jumped up from her chair and stood in her office doorway. Mac was nowhere in sight. She let out a ragged breath. His departure had been so abrupt, brought on she believed by horrific memories of his stepfather. Emotional pain that had ri
sen to the surface. She ached for the little boy who had been so terribly abused and thrust into such tragic circumstances.

  Her heart was thumping wildly as she sat back down at her desk. She had no idea whether it was due to Mac’s unexpected appearance or the tale he had just told her about his missing sister. It was almost impossible to believe that Callie had disappeared without a trace and that his own family hadn’t been sure of her existence. From what she knew of Maggie and Alec Donahue she had to believe that they had been convinced otherwise. Never in a million years would they have ever done anything to knowingly hurt their child.

  On impulse she jumped up from her desk and raced to her office window. Within seconds she caught sight of Mac striding through the parking lot, his movements full of power. He stopped at a large red truck and let himself in, roaring off within seconds.

  One thing was clear. She had promised to look into it and get back to him with any information she’d uncovered. It was safe to say that she would be seeing Mac again very soon. And something about that gave her a little thrill.

  “Whenever you’re in doubt or you need a shoulder to lean on, there’s always a place for you at home. Our house will always be your home. No matter where you are or how far you roam.”

  Alec and Maggie Donahue

  Chapter Two

  Mac got in his truck and headed straight back to his shop. He was angry at himself for becoming so emotional during the meeting with Delilah. Back when he had first arrived in Cape Cod to live with his family he’d been full of rage and aggression. With time, love, patience and therapy, he’d emerged as a calmer, more focused kid. Ever since then he had utilized techniques to keep his cool even in the most maddening of circumstances. As a result, sometimes people thought he was emotionless. That couldn’t be further from the truth, although he never corrected people. Truth to be told, he felt things much deeper than the average person. He felt the agony of others, so much so that he shied away from painful topics or news stories. Hearing about the horrors of the world was like scraping at an unhealed sore.