Spellbound Falls (8 page)

Her daughter went back to smiling. “That’s because Mac told him to get out of town before sunset. See, having a strong boyfriend would be handy. Maybe tomorrow on our picnic you could ask Mac if he’d like to go on a date with you. I bet he’d say yes, because Henry told me his father thinks you’re pretty.”

Olivia let out a loud yawn, lifting a hand to her mouth to cover her blush. “Dawn cracks early; you need to go to sleep now.”

Of course the girl didn’t listen to her. “If you’re too shy to ask him, I can. I asked Tristan if he wanted to be Zoey’s boyfriend, and he said yes and now they’re the hottest couple in the entire school.”

Good Lord, she had to stop this. Olivia pointed a threatening finger. “I so much as
hear
the words
boyfriend
or
girlfriend
tomorrow on our picnic, young lady, and you’ll be cleaning cabins with me from the moment you step off the bus until you go to bed for the next three weeks. Got that?”

The blankets pulled up to her chin again and her eyes huge—more likely from shock than fear—Sophie mutely nodded.

Olivia took in a calming breath. “You know we can’t get emotionally involved with our guests,” she said softly. “I realize that’s usually not a problem for you because most everyone is here only a week or two, but Henry and Mr. Oceanus are staying through the summer and then they’re
leaving
. So just like I can’t have Mr. Oceanus as a boyfriend, you need to make sure you don’t get too attached to Henry. I don’t want your heart to get broken, Sophie.”

When the girl only nodded again, Olivia smiled warmly. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” she said, dropping back onto her pillow with a miniature version of her mother’s sigh.

Olivia quietly walked down the hall to the kitchen, her heart aching with remorse for losing her temper. She went
over and locked the outside door, then pushed back the curtain and saw that the lights in the upstairs windows of the main lodge were still on in John and Eileen’s private quarters. She rested her forehead against the cool glass, suddenly so close to tears it was scary. Sophie needn’t worry about her getting married again, because the girl was right; she had to be somebody’s girlfriend before she could be a wife. And the chances of that happening in Spellbound Falls were about as promising as someone catching a giant whale in Bottomless Lake.

She might go a bit weak in the backbone on occasion, but she sure as hell had enough pride not to settle. If she couldn’t have a man who made her palms sweat and her heart race, who didn’t see her as a prize that came with a ready-made family and six hundred acres of prime wilderness lake frontage, or who thought she was perfect just the way she was, then she’d rather remain a lonely widow the rest of her life.

Because she deserved a man who would move mountains for her.

Olivia straightened and started to turn but caught sight of Mac’s jacket hanging on the peg beside her door. She really needed to return it, if only to get him out of her head once and for all. But truth be told, she hadn’t even realized how much she missed a man’s touch until Mac had swept her into his arms and placed his jacket over her trembling shoulders while promising the bastard would never hurt her again.

Oh, but she loved the feel of a man’s strength; her last memory of her father was him holding her in his big strong arms when she was five, crushing her to his chest with his face buried in her hair as he’d promised he would move heaven and earth and any mountains that got in his way to get her back.

She’d waited three years for him to come back and get her, and finally forgiven him four foster homes later on her eighteenth birthday. Olivia pulled the jacket off the peg and
pressed the soft leather to her face, remembering how she’d headed off in search of the security she’d lost at age four when her mother had died.

Only she’d found Keith instead. Or rather, Keith Baldwin had found her waiting tables in Orono his last year of college. The tall, handsome, determined man had literally swept Olivia off her feet, married her the week after he graduated, and settled her here at Inglenook one month before running off to join the military.

It had taken him two years of furloughs home to get her pregnant, and another four years to get killed protecting fallen comrades being airlifted to safety. At least that was what his commanding officer had said as Olivia had watched Sophie clutch the folded flag at Keith’s funeral—which the girl now kept in her bedroom next to a picture of her war-hero daddy.

Olivia snapped off the porch light, undecided whom she was the angriest at: herself for hating a dead man, or Keith for dying before
he
had found the backbone to tell his parents they were getting a divorce. Her heart aching again for not telling them herself, Olivia headed to her bedroom—only to realize she was still clutching Mac’s jacket.

Well, why the hell not? It wasn’t as if she intended to attack its owner or anything; that’s why it was called a
fantasy
. Because really, she wasn’t looking for another tall, dark, handsome stranger to swoop in and rescue her, considering how that had turned out the last time. No, she was holding out for a man she could trust to honestly and truly love her, forever and ever.

A man who preferred her bed instead of some other woman’s.

But until that miracle happened, there wasn’t any reason she couldn’t dream Mr. Right was out there somewhere. And while waiting for their paths to cross, what was wrong with pretending she was sleeping wrapped up in a pair of big strong arms? Considering she hadn’t had sex in more than six years, shouldn’t she think about having two or three passionate affairs before she turned into a dried-up
old woman? It wasn’t like she was looking for the perfect man or anything; she’d always thought perfection was overrated.

Olivia spread the jacket on her bed, left her clothes on the floor where she’d shed them, and carefully burrowed under the quilt with a soft hum of pleasure. Mr. Right didn’t even have to be handsome, she decided, pulling the jacket-covered quilt up to her chin to breathe in the masculine scent. In fact, it might actually be better if he was flat-out ugly, having learned the hard way that a handsome face could just as easily hide a black heart.

He did have to have a sense of humor, though. And he needed to like children—especially little girls—and she’d really like it if he was really strong, because she really loved feeling all that carefully controlled strength moving over her, and beneath her, and deeply inside her.

Olivia finally fell asleep, her palms slightly sweaty and her heart beating a little bit faster, feeling safe and secure wrapped in the warmth of a fantasy.

Standing on the porch staring out at the moonlight reflecting off the ice on Bottomless Lake, Mac listened to Henry sitting inside reading aloud from the book of baby names he’d gotten in town this afternoon. The boy had slowly been making his way through the alphabet and was up to the letter D; occasionally stopping to write some of the names down after repeating them with different inflections, sometimes adding
Oceanus
to see how they sounded together.

Sweet Prometheus, but he’d caught hell from all his friends’ wives back in Midnight Bay simply for mentioning that he’d like to change Henry’s first name along with his last. But his worst sin, apparently, had been to mention it in front of the boy, who had obviously taken it to heart.

But what had Delia been thinking when she’d given his son such an uninspiring, decidedly English name as Henry? From the day he’d met her, Mac had been totally honest about who he was—and despite not telling him she was pregnant, Delia had
known
she was giving birth to the grandchild of Titus Oceanus.

Mac snorted softly. Which was exactly why she’d kept her pregnancy a secret. It was also likely why she’d chosen such
an unassuming name, hoping it would help keep the boy’s parentage—and his heritage—free of public speculation.

Except her brothers had known who had fathered their bastard nephew. And after Delia’s death five months ago, upon learning that her closest servants were plotting to bring their young charge to the child’s father, the three Penhope men had mounted a campaign to kill Mac in order to keep control of the boy.

Thank the gods one servant had managed to at least reach Titus. And for that reason alone Mac was still alive, two of Delia’s brothers were dead and one had staggered home carrying his stones in his pocket.

The cabin door opened. “What do you think of
Dorian
?” Henry asked as he stepped onto the porch. “It means ‘from the sea,’ so it’s appropriate. And
Dorian Oceanus
has a noble ring to it, don’t you think, Father?”

Mac walked over and picked him up, then sat down in one of the wooden porch chairs, settling Henry on his lap. “Let’s start with
my
name, shall we? I’m thinking of changing it from
Father
to
Dad
. How does that sound to you?”

Henry’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You want me to call you
Dad
?” Down went those brows into a frown. “Just while we’re here at Inglenook, and then I should return to calling you
Father
when we leave?”

“Well, since I still intend to be your dad after we leave here, I thought maybe you could continue using the term.”

“But you call Grandfather
Father
, and when you came to his ship and stole me from him, I also heard you call him
sir
.”

Mac smiled to cover his wince. “That’s because my father scares the hel—the daylights out of me. And I rather hoped that by your calling me
Dad
, I would know that
you
aren’t afraid of
me
.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” The boy suddenly looked away. “Except that something bad might happen to you,” he whispered. “Like your getting sick and dying just like Mama did.”

Mac cupped his son’s chin to face him. “Nothing bad is
going to happen to me, Henry. I’m going to live for a long, long,
long
time.” He tapped the boy’s cheek with his finger. “And so are you. And for as long as I have breath in my body, even after you’re grown and leave home, I will be here for you.”

“Even if I do something really bad?”

“There’s nothing you could ever do that would change the way I feel about you, Henry. Nothing.”

Mac let go of his chin when Henry turned away again. “I disobeyed you, Fa—Dad,” he said, staring out at the lake. “I told Sophie that bad man hit her mama yesterday.” He looked at Mac, the moonlight revealing his apprehension. “I know you told me not to say anything because you didn’t want Sophie to worry, but she suspected her mother hadn’t merely fallen down. And she was imagining all sorts of bad things had happened, because… I think because she’s afraid her mama could die and leave her just like her father did.”

Mac cradled his son back against him with a heavy sigh. “Death isn’t some big bad terrible thing, Henry, even though it feels like it is to those of us still living. But fathers and
mothers
,” he said, giving him a squeeze, “don’t ever leave their children.” He placed his hand over Henry’s heart. “Your mama’s still right here inside you, Henry. And anytime you want to talk to her, just talk; silently or out loud, it doesn’t matter. You have my word, son, your mama hears everything you say, and she knows everything you feel. And if you ask her something she will answer you, only instead of hearing with your ears now you must learn to listen with your heart.”

Henry reared up, incredulous. “That’s what Sophie told me! I asked her how she got over missing her dad, and she said she didn’t miss him so much once she started talking to him every night when she went to bed. And she said sometimes if she listens real hard, she can almost hear him talking back to her.”

Oh yeah, coming to Inglenook had definitely been one of
his better decisions. “It appears you have a very wise new friend.” He turned the boy facing out again and wrapped him in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry Sophie’s father died, but I’m glad you can talk to her about what it’s like to miss someone you love.”