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

by Calhoune, Belle

  “So I can call a tow service and give you a ride home if you like,” Mac suggested.

  Delilah let out the breath she’d been holding. Ever since Betty had started to let out steam like an overheated tea kettle she’d wondered how in the world she would make her way home. She was sure that Sarah or Blue would have happily picked her up, but with a newborn in the house, she didn’t want to do anything to disturb their tranquility.

  “That would be great,” she said with an enthusiastic nod. “I need to put some emergency road service numbers in my phone. I keep forgetting to do it.”

  She stood by as Mac made the call to the towing company. His tone was jovial and laid back. She liked the rich timbre of his voice. Being in his steady presence made her feel safe and protected. It was a strange feeling after so many weeks and months of not feeling anything at all for any man.

  Delilah turned away from him, then took her purse from the car and grabbed her keys. By the time she turned back around Mac was holding his cell phone in his hand, having finished the phone call.

  “My friend Jon is the owner of the towing company. He’ll tow your car to Rusty’s. He’ll be able to tell you whether Betty lives or dies.”

  Delilah didn’t want to laugh about her car’s problems, but the way Mac said it made her giggle.

  “I don’t mean to make light of it,” Mac said. “It’s a bummer to have your car give out on you.”

  They began walking toward his truck. When she made a move to head toward the passenger side, Mac stepped in front of her and opened the door. As she stepped up into the truck he reached for her hand to assist her. She felt a tremor run through her hand at the skin to skin contact. As she settled into the seat Mac quickly rounded the front of the car and settled into the driver’s seat. A quick look around the interior showcased a pristine environment. Not even a piece of lint was in evidence.

  Thankfully Mac hadn’t seen the inside of her car. She had diet soda cans in every holder and bits of paper on the floor.

  “I live on the other side of Breezy Harbor. Limerick Road,” she explained.

  “I know where you live,” he said with a quick look in her direction. “Sarah told us all about how you scrimped and saved for the down payment on your house as soon as you finished college.”

  “My house is tiny, but I love it,” she said proudly. “It’s simple, but it’s mine.” She’d made a wonderful investment by buying her house when the market was conducive to buyers. Although finances were always a struggle, it helped that she had a low interest loan and a reasonable mortgage.

  “Sarah beams with pride whenever she tells that story,” Mac said.

  “Probably the same way I beam with pride when I tell people my sister is a rock star nurse. It doesn’t get much better than saving the human race.”

  “That’s how I feel about Ryder and Tess also. What they do as Paramedics is amazing,” Mac gushed. “Although I always thought Ryder could leap tall buildings in a single bound since he was the oldest brother.”

  It was sweet, she thought, how awestruck he sounded. “Ryder is a good man. Your parents raised a fantastic bunch.”

  She turned to look at his profile. A hint of a smile played around his lips. “We hit the jackpot, didn’t we? Not a day has gone by since I became a Donahue that I didn’t know how very deeply I was loved. Not a single day.”

  “I feel the same way about my parents. They’ve given Sarah and me so much, even though at times it was a struggle. After college I wanted to be completely independent so my parents didn’t have to worry about supporting me,” Delilah confided. “It was my way of showing them that I appreciated their sacrifices and I was ready to fly on my own.”

  “That was brave of you,” Mac said. He turned toward her and their eyes locked. She wasn’t imagining the electric current that simmered between them in the truck. It was potent and vibrant. It shimmered and pulsed between them.

  “That’s funny. I don’t feel brave most of the time,” she admitted. Delilah didn’t know why she’d just blurted that out. It wasn’t something she was proud of. Lacking courage was her secret shame. Most days she wished that she could just make bold choices without being afraid of falling on her face.

  “Sometimes just putting one foot in front of the other is brave,” Mac said. “At least that’s what my Dad always tells me.”

  “Your Dad is one of a kind,” Delilah raved. “And your parents together are so sweet. Just one look at them and you know they share an incredible love story.”

  Mac let out a little sigh. “My father was a soldier on leave when he met my mother. They fell in love over the Christmas holidays. They endured separation and hardships and infertility. Their love story makes me a believer.”

  A believer. How she yearned to believe again in happy endings and love that would withstand the test of time. Being in the midst of so many love stories was a double-edged sword, she imagined. Inspiring yet frustrating since he was still single. She could relate to the pressure being placed on him to find “the one.” And he had it coming at him from six brothers, numerous sisters-in-law and his parents.

  As Mac drove down Limerick Road and pulled up in front of her cozy little blue bungalow, she found herself wishing the ride had lasted a bit longer. Mac was great company, and little by little she was finding out interesting tidbits about him.

  After putting the truck in park, he jumped out on the driver’s side and made his way to the passenger side. He opened the truck’s door and held out his hand to help her down. Again Delilah felt a strange sensation flood her senses as Mac’s hand grasped her own. She shrugged it off, chiding herself for being so silly. He was being a gentleman. There was nothing further to it than that. Knowing Maggie Donahue, she had taught her seven boys to have polished manners. Judging by Mac’s behavior, Maggie and Alec had groomed him well.

  She looked up at him, sucking in a huff of air at the sight of his finely chiseled features. The moon hanging high in the sky gently illuminated his face. For some strange reason her mind veered toward the idea of being kissed in the moonlight. It was a silly thought, one that brought to mind her teenage romantic fantasies. She was an adult now, one who shouldn’t be fantasizing about kisses in the moonlight.

  “Thanks for the ride home. And the rescue,” she said, looking up at Mac. Because of his towering height, it made her feel more dainty and feminine by comparison. There was something about his steady presence that made her feel protected.

  “No problem,” he said. “Thanks for hearing me out this afternoon. I know it’s a crazy story.”

  “It’s not crazy at all,” she responded with a shake of her head. “You’d be surprised at how many people have been separated from their siblings in the foster care system. There are some great reunion stories I’ve been a part of. Really moving stuff.”

  “That gives me hope,” he said.

  “We should always have hope,” Delilah said.

  “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul,” Mac said in a low voice.

  “And sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” Delilah finished the verse of the poem. She could hardly believe that Mac was able to recite Emily Dickinson’s poetry. It made her feel almost giddy. Most men winced when you even mentioned Emily Dickinson. Every moment in his presence showed her a new facet of him.

  Delilah smiled at him. “Emily Dickinson, huh. You’re full of surprises, Mac Donahue. I wouldn’t have figured you for a lover of poetry.”

  He shrugged, his shirt pulling a bit across his broad chest as he looked away from her. For a moment he almost seemed shy. “I’m not. Not really. I learned that particular poem in high school and it stuck with me.”

  “It’s a good poem to have stuck with you.”

  “The things we learn…the beautiful things…never fade away,” Mac said.

  “Well, goodnight Mac. I’ll be in touch if I find out anything more about Callie.” With a small wave of her hand she headed off in the direction
of her front door. Her front light came on as soon as she stepped onto the pebbled walkway. The flowers sitting in window boxes greeted her like old friends. After she inserted her key into the lock she pushed open the front door and turned back toward Mac. He was standing in front of his truck with his eyes trained on her. She knew instinctively he’d been waiting to make sure she made it inside safely.

  A tight feeling pressed against her chest as she watched from inside as Mac got back into the truck and roared off down the road. She couldn’t put her finger on the emotion she was feeling at this moment. She felt as if she could float on air. As she roamed around her kitchen and began preparing herself a cup of green tea, she struggled to figure it out. If she had to put it into words she would say it was a feeling of happiness. And it revolved around being rescued by Mac and being driven home by him.

  Tonight there had been a connection between herself and Mac. She wondered if he’d felt it too. It scared her a little bit because it was way more powerful than she’d ever imagined. Before he’d been just a name to her, a connection to her sister and Blue and the awesome Donahue clan. His reclusiveness and quiet vibe had been a bit of a turn off over the years. They’d barely exchanged a dozen words over the years. Yet now in the clear light of day she was discovering that beneath the quiet façade lay a man who exuded a raw strength and dignity. Mac was kind and thoughtful. And he was more of a gentleman than any of the men she’d dated. Opening doors. Riding to her rescue. Taking her hand to help her into his truck.

  If she wasn’t careful, she realized, she was going to fall for Mac Donahue. He had all the qualities any woman would desire in a man. Strength. Kindness. Family oriented. Intelligence. She wasn’t quite ready to share it with Sarah, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this evening Mac had ridden to her rescue in a pair of faded blue jeans.

  “Love is a choice. Opening yourself up to someone can be really scary, but in the end it leads you to the best things this world has to offer. It leads you to your other half.”

  Remy Donahue

  Chapter Three

  By the time Mac arrived at the church picnic it was already in full swing. Being present at the event had only been possible thanks to Seth, his sister-in-law Tess’ younger brother. At eighteen, Seth was responsible and hard working. Mac trusted him to watch the shop in his absence and answer any inquiries customers might have. Despite having suffered hardships in his young life, Seth had grown into a terrific young man. A year ago he’d run away from his home in New Hampshire and headed to Breeze Point to find Tess and live with her. Although things had been a bit rocky at the start, Seth had settled in nicely to life in Breeze Point.

  The smell of fried chicken wafted in the air as Mac ambled across the green. His stomach rioted against him as more savory smells from vendors assaulted his senses. Hot dogs. Fried dough. Shrimp. Burgers. Buying some food here was a win-win. He would satiate his stomach while donating to a great cause at the same time. He walked over to one of the food stands and bought a Blue Cheese Burger and a soda. One bite of the burger had him almost shouting out an Allelujah. It was fantastic.

  Lively music filled the air as he continued to walk through the green. He was greeted warmly by most of the familiar faces who strolled by him. He’d long ago accepted the fact that the Donahue family was beloved in Breeze Point. In addition to their loving and giving personalities, his parents had gained a name for themselves with Sweet Treats, a full-scale bakery they owned that was located in the center of town.

  A crowd had gathered by the stage that had been set up on the green next to town hall. Raul Martinez, a buddy of his from high school, spotted him as soon as he walked up. He greeted him enthusiastically with a clap on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Mac. It’s been a long time. How are you? I’ve been meaning to stop in to Woodworks and check out the place. I hear it’s a big success.”

  “I can’t complain. I’ve always wanted to make my living by using my hands to create pieces, so I consider myself to be extremely blessed.”

  Mac nodded his head toward the makeshift stage and the crowd gathered around it. “What’s going on over there?”

  “They’re auctioning off pies with the proceeds going to the youth center. It’s going pretty well at the moment. People are really stepping up to bid.”

  Mac felt a jolt as he swung his gaze toward the stage. Delilah, looking jaw droppingly beautiful in a floral skirt, a bright pink sleeveless shirt and a pair of slingback heels, was standing in a row of ladies whose pies were being auctioned off.

  “Did you bid on a pie yet?” Mac asked.

  Raul made a face. “Not yet. I was considering bidding on Delilah’s pie since she’s an amazing baker, but Tim already put the word out that none of his friends better bid on Delilah’s pie.”

  Mac frowned. “What? Are you serious?”

  Raul nodded. “Dead serious. Tim and Delilah used to date. Delilah dumped him and he became really bitter about the situation. He’s been spreading nasty stories about her ever since.”

  Fury began to rise up inside him. Mac gritted his teeth. “I haven’t heard any of them. And I better not.”

  Raul suddenly looked nervous. “I-I like Delilah. A lot. She’s a really sweet person. It’s just that no one wants to get on Tim’s bad side, if you know what I mean.”

  Mac met Raul’s gaze head-on without flinching. He knew he was glaring at his friend but he couldn’t help himself. It was pathetic that someone like Raul didn’t have the conviction to speak up against Tim’s badmouthing of Delilah. It made him sick to his stomach. He’d never liked Tim Sutton even when they were kids. And now he was discovering that he was a punk and a bully.

  “Well, it’s too bad that there are so many cowards here in town.” He spit the words out as if they were poison. “Tim hasn’t changed one bit in all these years. Now I see why. Standing by silently while he does his dirt is despicable.”

  Raul’s jaw dropped. “Hey Mac, I didn’t mean to—” Raul protested.

  “Save it.” He glared at Raul and held up his hand to ward off any further conversation. The only way men like Tim could thrive was due to the weakness of men like Raul. Men who could stand by and watch a good woman like Delilah smeared and tarnished out of spite and meanness. And now she was standing on the stage trying to do her part for a charity auction when her slimy ex had already ensured that a great number of people wouldn’t bid on her pie.

  With a final scowl in Raul’s direction he turned away from him and moved closer toward the stage. At that very moment Delilah stepped forward and held up her pie to the audience. She had a sweet smile on her face, one that radiated like the sun and projected kindness. There was no way in the world he was going to stand by and watch her get her feelings hurt. Not on his watch!

  “Who likes peach pie?” The emcee, Olivia Sanders, called out to the crowd. Applause ensued in the audience. “I have it on good authority that Delilah Dalton’s peach pie is a town treasure. Why don’t we start the bidding out at ten dollars?”

  A few bids crawled in at a snail’s pace. Mac clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. After a few minutes the bidding stalled out a twenty dollars. Having been to this pie auction countless times in the past, Mac knew that the bids should be way higher. Thanks to Tim and his dirty work, some of the men in town had been dissuaded from bidding. Although he no longer used his fists to solve his problems, for a moment Mac was tempted to find Tim in the crowd and teach him a lesson he would never forget.

  He took a few deep, calming breaths. At times like this he needed to remember what the Bible had taught him in his darkest days. Psalm 11:5 had been one he’d read over and over, so much so that the page had been dog-eared. “The Lord trieth the righteous, but the wicked, those who love violence his soul hateth.”

  Violence was never the answer. As a kid he’d often used his fists when he first came to Breeze Point. He hadn’t had the skills to control himself. Time, healing and patience from his adoptive parents
had allowed him to realize that lashing out in that manner was a learned behavior. His stepfather had shown him no other road, and when met with frustration or pain, he’d used his strength to resolve difficult situations. As an adult he was able now to deal with his frustrations in other ways. He was following a better path.

  Watching the slow bidding for Delilah’s offering was nerve-racking. It might be his imagination, but he thought Delilah’s cheeks looked flushed with discomfort. As every second went by her body language became more uncomfortable. She was fading right before his very eyes.

  “One hundred dollars!” Mac called out in a loud voice.

  From the stage he saw Delilah’s eyes bulge. People standing nearby began to buzz about his bid. Loud clapping rang out in the crowd.

  “Wahoo!” Mrs. Sanders cheered. “We’ve got a bid of one hundred dollars from Mac Donahue. Anybody else? Come on now. Don’t be cheap. Can we get a one hundred and ten?”

  After a few seconds she called out, “Sold to Mac Donahue for one hundred dollars.”

  Delilah sent him a quizzical look. For the life of him he couldn’t tell whether she was surprised, dismayed or happy, which once again proved to him that he had no clue about women.

  Delilah walked toward him. She handed him her basket.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Delilah said in a soft voice. “It was very gallant of you to rescue me from low bids. But it was above and beyond.”

  “What do you mean? I wanted to do it. My love of peach pie is legendary. It’s one of my Mom’s go-to recipes. She hasn’t made it in a long time.” Although Mac wasn’t about to say it out loud, his mother’s baking had been deeply affected by her dementia. Recipes she had always known by heart were now challenging. It was heartbreaking to see it all unfold.

  Delilah let out a groan. She covered her face with her hands. “Oh no. Now with every bite you’re going to be comparing me to Maggie. And she’s a professional baker.”