She met Harper and Hailey, who were seventh-and eighth-born of the siblings. They almost could have been twins, the physical resemblance between the two of them was so strong. And they both looked like Madison—or maybe she looked like them.
Hailey laughed about it. “Wait till Grace gets home for spring break next week. We’ll take pictures of all four of us. No one will be able to tell us apart.” It was an exaggeration, but not that much of one.
The last arrivals came at a little before seven, Matthias and his wife, Sabra, who lived on Sabra’s farm near Astoria. And Aislinn and her husband, Jaxon Winter, the adopted son of Martin Durand. They’d driven over from Wild River Ranch, which Jaxon had eventually inherited after Martin Durand died.
Included on that memory stick Madison had studied so thoroughly was a copy of the final letter written by Durand to accompany his will. In the letter, he not only laid out how he’d switched two innocent babies at birth, but also that Aislinn and Jaxon had to marry for three months in order for Jaxon to get the ranch. Apparently, the forced marriage had turned into the real thing.
Which was great.
Martin Durand, though? Talk about a piece of work.
Aislinn was slender and small-boned, with an angular face, huge dark eyes and dark hair. She bore no physical resemblance to the rest of the Bravos. She didn’t look all that much like the mother who’d raised Madison, either. But there was something about her that felt so familiar. Something in her voice, in the way that she moved—it all whispered to Madison of Paula Delaney, somehow. Just being near her had Madison feeling at home and also missing her lost mom all over again.
Once everyone but Grace had arrived, they shared a potluck dinner of dishes brought by the various members of the family. There was roast chicken and mac and cheese with ham, ribs from a local restaurant and a variety of sides.
Sweet old Percy took Madison aside just before the food was served and explained that Martin Durand had left a DNA sample with a reputable lab. Aislinn had already been tested. The test proved she was Durand’s biological daughter.
“I don’t think any of us have much doubt who your blood parents were,” said Percy. “Still, it never hurts to take advantage of the proof that’s so readily available these days. Would you be open to sibling testing?” When she said that yes, she wanted to be tested, Percy asked if she would be available on Sunday. She said that she would, after which Percy called for everyone’s attention and got their unanimous agreement that they could make it on Sunday for dinner. Grace would be home for spring break by then, so all the siblings could be there. Percy would bring the test kits and all of them would provide DNA samples. Results would be available online sometime in the following week.
After three hours of intense togetherness with people she’d only just met, Madison needed a breather. She slipped out to the front porch and dropped gratefully into one of the comfy, cushioned chairs. It was dark by then, but not too cold. The porch lights cast everything in a golden kind of glow.
She texted Sten that she was ready to go whenever he could come pick her up. He answered immediately.
Ten minutes?
Perfect. I’ll be waiting on the front porch.
She stuck her phone back in her pocket and was about to go back in and tell everyone goodbye when the door opened and Aislinn came out. “Everything okay out here?”
Oddly, although Aislinn was the only Bravo in town to which she had no blood relationship, Madison felt a certain bond with the woman who should have grown up calling Lloyd and Paula Delaney her dad and mom.
“Join me.” Madison patted the chair beside her.
Aislinn came and sat down. “You look a little shell-shocked.”
Madison gave a sheepish laugh. “I think my head is literally spinning.” She admitted, “It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”
“Tell me about it. After I got the news, I spent months wandering around in a daze, trying to figure out who the hell I really am. I read up on you—but not in a stalkerish way, I promise.” And they laughed together at the sheer unreality of the situation. Then Aislinn grew serious again. “I just, well, I felt as though I’d stolen your life from you.”
“What? Aislinn, you were a newborn baby, completely innocent. No way you’re to blame for what Martin Durand did.”
Aislinn tapped her temple. “I know that in here.” She put her palm against her chest. “In my heart, though, I just had to work through it, you know?”
“Yeah. I do. I truly do.”
“But, Madison, I read that your parents adored you and I hope that it’s true.”
“They did, yes. They loved me. I never doubted their love. And I loved them. I still miss them every day.” She had to ask, “How about George and Marie Bravo?”
“I was their little princess,” said Aislinn with a far-away smile. “And a very happy little girl. I felt safe and cared for and...precious, you know?”
“I do. And I’m glad.”
“And I wonder, would you want to come out to Wild River for dinner?” Aislinn fiddled with the filigree heart she wore on a silver chain around her neck. “Say, Saturday? You can see the ranch where you were born.”
It surprised Madison how much she wanted that. “Yes, definitely. What time?”
“Five? I’ll show you around the place before we eat. Bring a friend if you’d like.”
“I’ll be there,” Madison promised just as Sten’s pickup pulled in at the curb. He gave her a wave from inside the cab, leaning forward enough that the streetlamp above cast his face into sharp relief for a moment. She waved back, her heart suddenly lighter, somehow. “And here’s my ride...”
“Isn’t that Sten Larson?”
“The one and only. I guess I’m not surprised you know him. Sten mentioned that he was in the same grade in school as Matt.”
“Yeah. And Liam and Karin are the same age.” Liam was fourth-born, after Daniel, Matt and Connor.
“I’m staying at a cottage Sten owns out at Sweetheart Cove. He’s been terrific, playing chauffeur when I need a ride, taking me razor clamming. Karin even had me over to dinner. I really like the family.”
“I know the cove. It’s a beautiful spot.”
“I love it. It’s pretty isolated, which works for me because I’ve been trying to keep a low profile so that word won’t get out I’m in town. If the tabloids get hold of the news that I’m here, well, some of those reporters can get pretty rabid.”
“I won’t tell a soul. And I’ll warn the rest of the family to keep quiet about your being here.”
“Thanks.” Madison rose. “I’m just going to run down and tell Sten I need to go in and say good-night to everyone.”
Aislinn got up before suggesting, “Or I could say goodbye to them for you?”
Madison hesitated. She really was anxious to get away, get a chance to decompress. But not to at least thank Keely and Daniel for the evening seemed rude.
“They’ll understand.” Aislinn took her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a goodbye hug. When they stepped apart, Aislinn said, “It’s a lot to deal with, being switched. I promise you, they get it. They’ve already been through it once with me.”
“Honestly, tonight has been great.”
“But maybe just a little overwhelming?”
Madison sighed. “I’m that obvious?”
“Hey. It’s totally okay for you to need the space to process, or whatever. Just remember we’re here for you. Call any one of us, anytime.”
“Thank you.” Madison got out her phone. She brought up Aislinn’s cell number and sent her a text confirming dinner at the ranch on Saturday. “Now you can reach me whenever you feel like it. I’ll group text everyone so they can get hold of me, too.”
“About Saturday...” Aislinn wore a knowing little grin.
Madison didn’t get it. “What?”
<
br /> “Bring Sten.”
She stifled a groan. “So I’m not only obvious, but transparent, as well.”
“He’s a good guy. And hot, which never hurts.”
“We’re just, um, friends.”
“Like I said. Bring a friend.”
* * *
Sten leaned across the passenger seat to push open the door when Madison came down the walk. She climbed in and buckled up.
“You got here fast.” Her gorgeous smile seemed forced.
He started up the engine again and headed for home. “I had some errands to run in town, then I grabbed a burger at a little place I know that’s not too far from here.”
She stared at the darkened street ahead. “You really should let me pay you to ferry me around.”
He responded in a flat tone. “Maddy.”
She sent him a snooty little glance. “What?”
“Knock it off.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes. She said, “That was Aislinn, on the porch with me.”
“Yes, I know. She’s a sweetheart.”
“You should’ve come up, said hi.”
“I thought about it. But tonight, well, it was for you, to meet your family. I didn’t want to butt in to that.”
“I should’ve come and gotten you.”
“I think that’s three times you’ve said ‘should’ since you climbed in this truck. What’s going on?”
She folded her hands in lap and gazed down at them, pensive. “They were wonderful, all of them. I like them a lot and I’m really glad you pushed me to finally go and meet them.”
“But...?”
“It’s just weird, that’s all. To be in that house I would have grown up in, with all the people I would have known all my life, to have all these might-have-beens whirling around in my brain.”
“Is there something I can do—you know, to make it better, make it a little less weird?”
Her head came up. He turned to meet those turquoise eyes briefly before focusing on the road again.
“I’m going out to Wild River Ranch on Saturday, for dinner.” She kept her gaze on the street ahead. “Aislinn invited me. When she saw it was you coming to pick me up, she said you’re a good guy and you’re hot.”
“That Aislinn. She knows what she’s talking about.”
“She also said I should bring you with me on Saturday.”
“Oh, did she?”
“Sten, will you come out to Wild River with me Saturday?”
Her invitation pleased him. It also made him a little nervous about where things were going between them. But not nervous enough to get him to beg off. “Yeah. I will.” He stole another glance at her.
Her dimples were now on full display. “You just said yes to me.”
“Yes, I did.” He could look at her forever. But he made himself face front again before he got them in a wreck.
* * *
“Come inside with me,” she said.
They stood at the front door to the cottage, the cliffs behind them, the porch light bringing out bronze streaks in her pale hair. He wanted to kiss her—oh, who was he kidding? He wanted to do a lot more than kiss her.
And what was so wrong with that? She wanted it, too. She’d said as much more than once.
“‘Thank you, Maddy. I would love to come in,’” she answered for him, faking a man’s deep voice. And then she turned, stuck the key in the lock and pushed open the door. “Please. After you.”
He went in and led the way through the small entry to the great room in back.
“Beer in the fridge,” she said, pausing to flip on a light. “One for me, too?”
He got out two bottles, uncapped them and carried them over to where she stood by the slider. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She took the beer and pushed the slider open, letting in the chilly night air and the long sigh of the waves gliding into shore out there beyond the stretch of beach. “To families.” She raised her beer. “They can make us crazy, but where would we be without them?”
He tapped his bottle to hers and teased, “You look like someone just stole your dog.”
She tried a grin, but her eyes were full of shadows. “I’m a downer tonight. It’s the simple truth.”
“Talk to me. Tell me everything.”
“It’s too depressing.”
Easing a hand under her hair, he pulled her close. “Talk.” He breathed the word against the velvet skin of her forehead and then, reluctantly, let her go.
She leaned back against the doorframe, her mouth so soft, her gaze cast down. “Just thinking about my dad—the one I grew up with, not the one named Bravo.”
He wanted to touch her again, so he did, brushing a finger down the perfect line of her nose, guiding a lock of hair back behind her ear. “Thinking about your dad makes you sad?”
“Tonight, it does. He was tall, with blond hair and blue eyes—which is why, I’m guessing, he believed I was his child, even though my mom messed around behind his back more than once. She was small-boned, with dark hair and eyes. They both always claimed I got my looks from the Delaney side of the family. He loved me so much. I really don’t think he ever had a clue that I might not be his.”
“You were his. He loved you. And it’s obvious that you loved him. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah. Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “It’s just, well, I have this feeling and I’ve had it for a while now, this feeling that I’m a fake, that I have no real life at all.”
He kind of wanted to grab her and shake her. But he made himself say mildly, “You’re being way too hard on yourself.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Ever since I was Coco’s age I’ve been so focused, so set on a certain course. But lately—and I mean, in the past couple of years, long before all this switched-at-birth business—it’s like the ground has been slowly giving way beneath my feet. I honestly do want a different sort of life now.”
Did he believe her? Not really. No way was she giving up the dazzling career she’d worked so hard to create. She was just going through a tough time. It would pass and she would go back to Hollywood to make another megahit movie and accept a second Oscar to keep the first one company.
He would miss her when she left. Miss her a whole hell of a lot. In the week and a half since he’d first come face-to-face with her, she’d wormed her way under his skin. How had he let that happen?
Not that it mattered at this point.
What mattered now was that it was too late to get away from her painlessly.
He might as well enjoy himself for as long as it lasted.
“Here,” he said. “Give me that beer.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, bratty and contrary, the way Coco got sometimes. “I’m not finished with it.”
“I’ll return it to you later.” He snatched it from her hand.
“Hey!” She tried to grab it back.
He held on. They scuffled over it, laughing like a couple of witless idiots. She got hold of his arm and shook it hard enough that she ended up with beer all down the front of her shirt.
“Now look what you did.” She stepped back and braced her hands on her hips, going full-out Coco in a snit. “Sten Larson, I smell like a brewery.”
He took the bottles by their necks, one-handed, and used the other hand to shove open the screen. “We’ll fix that. Come on.” He set off across the deck.
“Sten!”
He kept walking, aware of her footfalls behind him as he ran down the stairs and across the beach, not pausing until he was a few feet from where the waves slid in and retreated, leaving lacy trails of foam behind. Bending, he twisted the bottles into dry sand so they stood upright, side by side.
Maddy came ev
en with him just as he was pulling off one of his boots. “What are you up to now?” She had her head tipped to the side, her hair blowing every which way, watching him.
“I’m going wading in the ocean.” He slipped off his sock and stuck it in the top of the boot.
“Are you crazy? The water’s got to be freezing.”
“It’s fine. Around fifty degrees this time of year. You’d have to be submerged to get hypothermia and it would take an hour or so for that to happen.”
“Well, aren’t you the expert? And fifty is cold!”
“Don’t be a big sissy,” he said under his breath as he pulled off the other shoe and the sock, too.
She stuck out that obstinate chin at him. “What did you call me?”
He dropped both boots next to the propped-up bottles and crouched to roll up his pant legs. “Your beer’s right there when you want it.” He grabbed his from the sand and waded out into the leading edge of the next wave, not looking back or stopping until the water lapped at his shins.
She was right. It was colder than usual. He wouldn’t last that long barefoot. But he was counting on her to get her shoes off and join him.
His toes were only half-frozen when he heard her splashing behind him, giggling as she approached, shrieking, “Oh! Cold! Yikes! Chilly.”
He turned, whipped out a hand and grabbed her—catching the wrist that didn’t have a beer attached to it. She shrieked again as he pulled her close and kissed her. She tasted so sweet, of laughter and beer.
“Cold,” she giggled against his lips, her hair blowing in both their faces, getting caught between their mouths as she launched herself upward. He read her intention, catching her with his free hand, giving her a boost as she hitched up her legs and hooked her ankles around his waist.
Carrying her now, he forged off along the water’s edge, the waves lapping at him. He had one hand under her fine little butt, the other still clutching his beer at her back, still kissing her as she clung like a barnacle to the front of him.
“Yum,” she said when he lifted his mouth. She opened her eyes and grinned at him as she shoved her flying hair back behind an ear. It quickly blew free and plastered itself across her mouth again. “Suddenly, I feel much better about everything.”
Switched At Birth Page 8
