Spellbound Falls (25 page)

“And yet Mac told me that
you’ve
been quite integral in helping him with Henry,” Carolina said, walking over to the range and opening the oven door to filch a piece of bacon. “In fact, he claims it was you who told him not to see parenting as him versus his son, but rather as
him and Henry
versus the world.” She smiled warmly. “And I can’t tell you how much that one simple… pearl of wisdom resonated with him,” she said just before popping the bacon in her mouth.

Olivia ducked her head in the fridge so Carolina wouldn’t see her blush. “I must have heard Eileen once say something to that effect. She is the expert, after all.”

“More than he cherishes life itself, my brother desires to become the best possible father he can be to Henry,” Carolina said quietly from right beside her, making Olivia straighten in surprise. “And there are no words to express how happy I am that Mac’s found you to help him transition from bachelorhood to parenthood,” she said, holding up her hand when Olivia tried to speak. “Because within minutes of arriving last night I discovered that it’s
your
advice Mac is sopping up like a thirsty sponge,” she finished with a knowing smile.

Olivia sighed, dropping her gaze when she felt her cheeks heating up again. “I don’t know why. I told him from the beginning that I don’t know what I’m doing with my own child half the time, and that I’ve been known to actually hide from Sophie when she gets in one of her moods.”

Carolina turned away with a laugh. “But isn’t hiding
better than confronting a problem that would otherwise work itself out?”

Olivia rushed after Carolina, her heart thumping at the realization that she may have just met a kindred spirit. “So it’s not just me?” she asked in surprise, setting the eggs down and turning to her. “You also think there are times when doing nothing works better than facing something head-on?”

Carolina leaned against the counter and folded her arms under her breasts as she crossed her feet at the ankles. “Are you kidding? I once spent several cent—several months avoiding the man my father intended me to marry.” Her mouth curled up on one side. “And the bastard’s relentless pursuit showed what an ugly human being he truly was, and my father—along with Mac—took care of the problem for me.” She shrugged. “I’ve found that riding out a storm from a distance is likely the reason for the saying that retreat is often the better part of valor. Which, I believe, is why my mother taught me the value of silence over arguing with pigheaded men.”

“Or pigheaded women,” Olivia drawled. She laughed. “Ohmigod, I feel the same way, but I always thought I was just being a coward. I would love to meet your mother. She sounds wonderfully wise.”

Carolina’s vivid green eyes danced in the sunshine reflecting off the new snow outside the windows. “Be careful what you wish for, my friend, or you just might find her popping in here one of these days, as I do believe Mama has been hounding Father to bring her to meet Henry.”

Olivia gasped. “She hasn’t met Henry yet?”

Carolina straightened away from the counter to open the oven, and filched another piece of bacon. “No, Mac stole Henry away first.” She grinned. “And despite our father’s agreeing to give my brother a year alone with his son, Mama said
she
didn’t agree to any such thing. She’s dying to meet her only grandchild, so don’t be surprised if you find yourself overrun with Oceanuses one day soon,” she warned just before shoving the bacon in her mouth.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the porch as the men banged snow off their boots. The door opened and Henry and Sophie ran in, followed by Caleb and Sam, Caleb’s nephew Dale, and his other worker, named Tom, with Mac bringing up the rear.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Caleb said to no one in particular, “but I swear the snow’s melting faster than we’re shoveling it.”

“The plow blade was pushing only a few inches of slush by the time I reached the main road,” Sam said, also sounding bewildered. “At the rate it’s melting, it will probably be gone in a couple of days.”

“I promised Henry hot cocoa,” Sophie said, shedding her coat and hat and mittens. She kicked off her boots, then used her foot to shove them toward the wall. “Do we have any marshmallows left from last night?”

“In the pantry,” Olivia said, grabbing another pan off the hanging rack. “Sit down, gentlemen, and don’t worry about taking off your boots. There’s fresh coffee on the sideboard, and I’ll bring over some toast to get you started.”

“Oh no, you all just sit down,” Carolina said, going to the sideboard. “I’ll bring the coffee to you.”

“Be careful,
gentlemen
,” Mac said with a laugh as he headed for the stove instead of the table. “Anyone patting any backsides might get a lap full of coffee.”

Olivia saw him go perfectly still for two seconds, then bend down and open the oven door to grab a piece of bacon, popping it in his mouth and giving her a wink before he sauntered over to the table.

Mac had looked… different this morning when he’d shown up in the kitchen with Carolina just after dawn. He’d seemed peaceful, or maybe
relaxed
was a better word, his eyes positively vibrant as he’d let Henry—whose excitement had been nearly uncontainable—introduce his Auntie Caro to Olivia and Sophie.

And yet nobody, including Carolina, seemed to have a good explanation as to how she’d gotten here in the middle
of the night in the middle of a blizzard. Especially considering there were no strange vehicles around, or tracks that one might have made when she’d been dropped off.

Carolina had said she’d ridden in on a snowflake, whereas Mac had said she’d flown in on her broom. Henry, ever the gentleman, had boldly admonished his father for that remark, and told Olivia his aunt must have walked in from the turnoff.

The entire three miles, in the dark, in the middle of a blizzard?

Which was only one of the reasons Olivia couldn’t decide what was bugging her this morning about Carolina. Nobody that beautiful was as nice as she was—and Olivia was talking
serious
beauty. But according to her
gut
feeling, which she’d found herself consulting more often lately, she honestly liked the woman.

Even if Carolina was a bit… strange—her sudden, unexplained appearance at Inglenook notwithstanding. Mac hadn’t even mentioned he had a sister, much less that he was expecting her to visit him here.

It was obvious Mac and Carolina were quite close to each other, making it even stranger still that she hadn’t met her nephew until this morning, considering Henry had been living with Mac for more than three months. Or that Henry hadn’t met his grandmother, but only his marriage-minded grandfather, whom Carolina and Mac seemed to both fear and respect with equal dedication.

And really, what was all this talk about virgins and bastards and dukedoms and bed-hopping gods? And what sort of aunt sent a book of mythology to a six-year-old? For that matter, what six-year-old thought cartoons were silly?

Yes, the Oceanuses were an imposing and decidedly strange family of beautiful people. And for as much as she honestly liked Henry and Carolina, Olivia flat-out couldn’t stop obsessing over Mac.

Heck, last night she’d actually fallen asleep wearing nothing but his jacket after he’d put that image in her head
just before he’d
almost
kissed her. Lord, but she craved to feel all that wonderful male strength moving over her and beneath her and so very deeply inside her.

“Caleb just took me aside and mentioned that you’re handing out jobs like cookies this weekend,” Carolina said as she walked over. She nudged Olivia out of the way and opened the oven to get out the plate of bacon and platter of toast. “And he suggested I should ask if you might be interested in hiring a babysitter.” She leaned in, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Specifically for this evening, while your mother-in-law is away. Caleb seems to think it would be a perfect time for you to go out to dinner and maybe dancing.” She leaned even closer. “Did you know Mac is an excellent dancer?”

Olivia opened her mouth but for some reason couldn’t utter a word.

“And I am a much better babysitter than I am a cook,” Carolina drawled. “And I just happen to be free tonight.”

“I… but . . .”

“Ask him, Olivia,” she said quietly. “He will say yes.”

Ohmigod, she’d asked! Right after breakfast, just before Mac had walked out the door, Olivia had pulled him aside and asked if he would like for the two of them to drive down to Turtleback this evening and go to dinner at a nice restaurant she knew of.

Only instead of his eyes lighting with lust—or at the very least triumph—she’d been left staring through the kitchen door at his big broad shoulders when Mac had turned away with a shrug, saying he needed to think about it and would get back to her.

And then he’d made her wait
all
day—through sending Caleb and his two drivers on their way, through her spit-shining the rest of cabin four with Sophie’s help, and through a lunch that never did make it past the lump in her throat before he’d finally “gotten back to her” at three. And then the maddening man had sent Henry to inform Sophie that
she
was invited to their cabin tonight for a sleepover with his Auntie Caro—complete with popcorn and a movie in the lodge first. Because, he’d then said to Olivia with a familiar-looking wink, his dad would like the honor of taking her on a date tonight.

But after spending a good deal of the day vacillating between confusion and anger, Olivia had nearly sent the boy back with the message that she and Sophie had already made other plans for tonight. And yet here she was standing in front of her closet, staring at her ancient wardrobe and wanting to throw up. Because apparently she was so pathetic, Olivia didn’t care if she
had
stooped to asking a man to go out with her—only to stoop even further by going out with him after he’d put her through hell all day waiting for his answer.

And Sophie wasn’t helping matters. “Isn’t Miss Carolina the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?” her daughter asked from the bureau, where she was studying Olivia’s collection of costume jewelry. “She’s so tall, I bet she’s a model.”

Just what she needed: a reminder that she was going out with an equally beautiful man who would definitely complement her shabby lonely-widow look.

“Here, I think you should wear these,” Sophie said, walking over with her hand outstretched. “Didn’t you say your dad gave these to your mom before you were born?”

Olivia plucked one of the tiny white pearls out of Sophie’s hand and pushed the stud through her ear with a sigh. “Yes, he did. But they still don’t help me decide what to wear,” she said, taking the other earring and putting it on. “Everything goes with tiny white pearls, even jeans.”

“I think you should wear this,” Sophie said, pulling out the hem of a deep red dress for her to see. “It makes your eyes stand out.”

It was also the dress she’d worn when she and Keith had left on their honeymoon a lifetime ago. “No, I think it’s got a couple of buttons missing,” she said, grabbing the only thing in her closet that wasn’t even remotely connected to him. “Here, what do you think of this?” she asked, holding the tailored blue blouse under her chin. “With my black wool slacks and pumps? It says clean sophistication, doesn’t it?”

Sophie frowned. “Isn’t that your funeral outfit? I was
with you when you bought it to wear to Miss Doris’s funeral last year.”

“That doesn’t make it a
funeral
outfit,” she said, slipping the blouse on over the only lace bra she owned. “Dig around in the bottom of my closet and find those black pumps, would you, sweetie?”

Olivia then pulled her wool pants off the hanger and slipped them on over her only pair of sheer knee-highs that didn’t have a run in them. God, she really needed to drive to Bangor and update her wardrobe. No wonder nobody asked her out; she
dressed
like a shabby lonely widow.

“They’re here!” Sophie cried, tossing the pumps on the floor and running out of the room when a vehicle drove up next to the house. She stopped in the hallway and looked back. “Hurry up and finish dressing, Mom. You don’t want to keep Mr. Mac waiting,” she said, running off again at the sound of a knock on the door.