When I Found You by Brenda Novak

Thirteen

Dylan didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous. He knew he’d have to persuade Kellan, who could be just as stubborn as he was—after all, he was an Amos and Aaron was arguably the most stubborn among them—that they could still be a family. And as if that didn’t promise to be difficult enough, he’d have to do it with the Rinehardts, who were people he no longer liked, looking on. He’d never been one to share his private business. But he had to do what he had to do, and if he’d realized anything through this, it was that he’d do whatever it required to get his son back.

“You ready?” Cheyenne murmured as they parked in front of the house.

He leaned forward to see around her, wondering if the Rinehardts were gazing out their front window, watching them, right now. The sun was reflecting off the glass, so he couldn’t tell. “Yeah.”

“You think Kellan will talk to us?” she asked. “He’s been pretty resolute. Hasn’t accepted anyone’s call, except for Mack’s.”

Kellan had even ignored Aaron, but that actually made Dylan feel better instead of worse. Although Kellan didn’t yet know it was Aaron who’d sired him, Dylan couldn’t help fearing that Kellan would suddenly decide he wanted to go live with his “real” father once he learned who that was.

Fortunately, the way Aaron had acted last night had convinced Dylan he’d never allow it, that he’d insist on being just an uncle and tell Kellan he had to deal with the parents who were raising him.

Dylan got out, shoved the car keys in his pocket and stalked around the car, where Cheyenne joined him. After smoothing her dress, she squared her shoulders and slipped her smaller hand in his.

When he kissed her knuckles, she looked up at him, startled by the gesture but also clearly relieved. He knew showing his commitment would make her feel better, but he needed that contact and reassurance, too. They would hold tight during this storm, would not break apart and lose each other—no matter what.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

“How could I not?” he muttered. “You know how much you mean to me.”

Even though she smiled at his response, he could see there was still plenty of apprehension in her eyes. “Everything will be okay,” she said.

She was trying to convince herself as much as him. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

They didn’t have to knock. Mr. Rinehardt—Carl—opened the door just as they reached the top step. “Come on in,” he said.

Dylan dipped his head politely, but he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t reach out to shake hands. He couldn’t quite forgive Carl for treating him as though it was necessary to act as a mediator between him and his child. It was offensive, but Dylan had to acknowledge that he was a little more sensitive to that sort of thing than most people. He’d been judged and gossiped about for most of his life.

“Kellan? Your parents are here,” Carl yelled, and Maggie, Carl’s wife, came into the living room.

“Hello.” She smiled, but that smile wilted almost immediately. No doubt she could tell he didn’t appreciate the way she and her husband had stood between him and Kellan. “Would you like something to drink?”

Cheyenne squeezed his hand, silently pleading with him to remain civil. “No, thank you,” she said. “As you can imagine, we’re pretty anxious to see our son.”

“Of course.” She glanced at her husband. “Maybe you should go get him.”

Once Carl left, Maggie gestured toward the sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”

That was the last thing Dylan wanted to do. He preferred to take his son so he could speak to him in private. Tell him how much he loved him and that they could get past this. But knowing it would be smarter to play along, at this point, he followed Cheyenne’s lead and perched uncomfortably beside her.

Carl reappeared. Kellan, head bowed, came into the room behind him.

“Have a seat, Kellan,” Carl said. “Do you want anything to drink, buddy? A soda?”

Dylan felt his muscles bunch at the other man’s solicitous tone. He was acting as if he was the one looking out for Kellan.

“Naw.” Kellan peered up at them from under his bangs, but his gaze skittered away as soon as he met Dylan’s eye.

“Can we have a minute?” Dylan had told himself he wouldn’t try to take control of this meeting, that he’d let Carl and Maggie run the show. He didn’t want to risk Kellan refusing to talk to them and going back into the nether regions of the house. Dylan knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from tearing the place apart until he found his son.

Carl looked at his wife, and she looked back at him. “Well, we thought we’d—”

“I just really need to talk to my son,” Dylan broke in, coming to his feet. “He means everything to me, so the past few days have been incredibly upsetting. I hope you understand.”

“But...he tells us he’s not even your son,” Carl said with an accusatory glance at Cheyenne that further enraged Dylan.

“It doesn’t matter what that DNA test indicated. He’s mine. He’s always been mine, and he’ll always be mine.”

“He said something about it being one of your brothers who must’ve—”

“Can I please talk to him?” Dylan broke in again, more forcefully this time.

Looking flustered, Maggie stood up. “Of course. Come on, Carl.”

Carl turned his attention to Kellan. “Do you need me here, buddy?”

Dylan felt his jaw tighten until he thought it might shatter, but, fortunately, Kellan shook his head and the odious Rinehardts left the room.

“Kellan, first of all, I’m sorry,” Cheyenne said. “I want you to know that nothing...inappropriate has ever happened between me and any of your uncles. Aaron donated the sperm that was used to artificially inseminate me. That’s all. I wanted to use DNA that was as close as I could get to your father’s, and Aaron was kind enough to agree to help me.”

“So you didn’t sleep with him,” he said, sullenly.

“No, of course not,” she cried. “I’ve always been true to your father, never wanted anyone else.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I didn’t see why you needed to know,” she replied. “Even your father didn’t know.”

This made Kellan sit up. “You didn’t know?”

“Not until last night, when your mother told me.”

His jaw dropped. “And you’re not upset? You’re not mad?”

“I was,” he admitted. “It was...a shock. A leveling blow. But...”

“What?” Kellan prompted, his gaze now fastened on Dylan’s face.

“I realized that it’s love that binds us together. And love isn’t dependent on DNA.”

Kellan dropped his head into his hands. Dylan suspected it was to hide tears, so he got up and went over to kneel beside him. “Kellan, listen to me. I was telling the truth a minute ago when I said that you’re mine and you’ll always be mine. My heart could never bear it if you weren’t.”

Kellan dropped his hands, letting Dylan see his eyes, which were, sure enough, growing red and puffy. “I don’t want what I’ve learned to be true,” he said. “I’ve always been proud to be your son. I love you more than anyone in the world. I always have.”

“Then come home,” Dylan said. “Our lives don’t have to change.”

“You don’t think it’s any big deal that you’re not my real father? That it’s...that it’s Wyatt’s dad? Uncle Aaron?”

Dylan squeezed his shoulder. “He’s just the donor. I’m your father in all the ways that count the most.”

Cheyenne knelt beside Dylan and took their son’s hand. “Kellan, I did what I did because I knew how badly your father wanted a child, and that he couldn’t have one the regular way. I should’ve told him, but—”

“She knew it wouldn’t make any difference to me,” Dylan said. That wasn’t the real reason she hadn’t told him, but he felt it was all Kellan needed to know. “So...does it matter to you? Are you going to kick me to the curb now that you know?” He attempted a grin and was heartened when Kellan gave him a watery smile in return.

“Does Uncle Aaron know that I know?”

“He does now,” Dylan replied.

“What’d he say about it?”

“He’s leaving it between us, as he should.”

Carl poked his head into the room. “Everything going okay in here?”

Dylan gave his son a pained look. “Is there any way you could tell Mr. Rinehardt that we got this? And come home, so we can discuss it in private?”

When Kellan nodded, Dylan couldn’t help pulling him into his arms. “I’ve missed you,” he said and was relieved when he felt his son’s arms tighten around him.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

Mack had gone into work earlier than he’d planned. Since Dylan needed the day off, he’d figured he might as well help out, rather than make Grady and Rod limp by without either one of them, and was glad he did, because once he arrived he learned that J.T. had called in sick. They had other, hourly workers, but they also had so much business they could barely keep up. They’d established such a good name in the auto body industry that they were getting customers from as far away as Sacramento and the Bay Area.

“You heard that Kellan’s home, right?” Rod asked as he strolled into the front office, where Mack was manning the front desk.

Mack shoved the stack of invoices he’d already processed into the appropriate cubbyhole and started to straighten up his workspace. “No. When did that happen?”

Rod put some money into the vending machine, and Mack heard a thunk as a soda landed in the bin. “I had to text Dylan about a car I’m working on, and he told me.”

“I’m glad Kellan’s home.” Mack had known Dylan and Cheyenne had a meeting with Kellan and the people Kellan was staying with this morning, but he hadn’t heard how it went. He’d been curious, but he hadn’t wanted to bother them if they were still dealing with everything. This was a good sign.

Rod popped the top of his Coke and sauntered over. “Why’d Kellan run away? Do you know?”

Mack shuffled things around on the desk again. “Dylan didn’t say?”

“Nope. Just told me not to worry about it, that everything was going to be fine.”

“You know how Dylan is,” Mack said, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Family business is family business.”

“But family business doesn’t usually exclude us.”

“Kellan’s his kid. It’s natural that he’d be protective.”

“Guess so.” Rod took a long drink of his soda. “By the way, Grady said you’re going to open an Amos Auto Body in LA. That true?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Seriously thinking about it?”

“Very seriously.”

“Why now? You’ve been talking about opening your own shop for years.”

Mack shrugged. “I have the money. I’m willing to take the risk.” He could stay in Whiskey Creek and continue getting paid a monthly salary, along with receiving a fifth of the profits on the business at the end of each year. He was making good money; it was difficult to walk away from such a reliable income. Dylan got two shares, since none of them would have a business without him, but Aaron didn’t take a share now that he owned his own location, so Mack received 20 percent even though they split the money between only four brothers. Owning his own location would mean that, just like Aaron, Mack would have to pay a nominal amount each month for the franchise. But he’d get to keep whatever profits the location garnered, so he could potentially do a lot better than he was now. The choice had worked out well for Aaron, which was encouraging. Bottom line, if the economy held, and he found a good location with the right demographics, he’d be better off to own his own shop. However, if the economy tanked, or he didn’t choose well, he’d be better off to stay right where he was.

It was a tough call, but he now had added incentive to try to make it all work...

Rod leaned up against the counter. “What made you choose LA?”

“What do you mean? It’s a huge market. We’ve talked about it being a good candidate before.”

Rod gave him a skeptical look. “Natasha has nothing to do with it?”

Mack shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe she does.”

“That’s what I thought,” his brother said with a laugh.

Suddenly defensive, Mack stiffened. “What?” He was getting tired of his brothers teasing him about Natasha. He’d put up with it for years.

“Now that she’s available again, you want to be closer to her?”

“If that’s the case, it’s my business. Do you have a problem with it?”

Rod sobered. “Whoa. Are you pissed off?”

“No, I’m just tired of everyone having something to say about Natasha.”

His brother studied him carefully.

“What are you doing?” Mack asked. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Something’s changed,” he replied. “What is it?”

Mack immediately thought of Lucas but grumbled, “Nothing’s changed.”

“Did you sleep with Natasha while you were there?”

“No!” he snapped, but he’d certainly wanted to. He couldn’t remember a time when that wasn’t a temptation.

“For years, I’ve watched you go out with one woman after the next, without any real interest in any of them. But you’ve always felt something for Natasha.”

Mack was tempted to continue to deny it. He didn’t want to hear Rod’s opinion or his advice. But he was pretty sure Lucas was his, and if that was the case, there’d be no more hiding the fact that he’d always had a romantic interest. “So what?” he said.

Rod blinked, probably surprised that he’d admit it. “Does she know how you feel?”

“She just lost her pediatric practice and her marriage—basically at the same time. She’s trying to recover. I don’t think she’s concerned with what I feel.”

“Oh, stop. She’s always been concerned with what you feel,” he said with a grin and crushed his can, shooting it like a basketball into the wastebasket behind the counter. “You can get her back if you really want her.” He grew more serious. “But make sure you really want her. It wouldn’t be fair to break her heart again.”

Mack felt his jaw sag, but Rod didn’t give him a chance to respond before he walked out.

His brother was right. He didn’t want to hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. And yet he wasn’t sure he could let himself fall as hard as he knew he could fall with her.

He checked his phone. Ever since he’d mailed that DNA test, he’d been on pins and needles. He couldn’t help wondering if Natasha was also nervous, which brought her to mind for probably the millionth time since he’d left Silver Springs. Since he still didn’t have any customers in the lobby, he sent her a message.

How’s your first day at work?

So far, so good, she responded. I like the people. Aiyana, Eli, Gavin, Cora. Everyone’s been great, except for one teacher who showed up at my office after lunch.

What’d she want?

It was a he. He was aware of what happened with Maxine Green and wanted to chat about it.

Frustrated by how long it took to text, Mack called her.“What did this male teacher have to say about your demented former nurse?”

“He kept assuring me that Amelia’s death wasn’t my fault, but that almost made me more uncomfortable, because it suggests that there are people out there who think it was. I mean, I know she worked for me, which places some of the blame on me, too, but he doesn’t have to keep reminding me of it.”

She was talking softly. Mack guessed she didn’t want her voice to carry through the whole administration building. “What was his name?”

“Roger Burns.”

“How old is he?”

“Close to our age, I guess.”

He didn’t say anything about the nine-year spread. She always acted like it was nothing. “He married?”

She hesitated. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just curious.” Mack could see a customer parking in the lot and knew his short reprieve would soon be over. “How’d you get rid of him?”

“A girl came in with a migraine who needed to lie down. I got the impression he would’ve kept rambling on about it, even in front of the student. But I said I needed to focus on my work.”

“So he finally left?”

“After he asked for my number.”

“In front of the girl?”

“Yes! I was shocked.”

Mack wasn’t. Natasha was gorgeous. What man wouldn’t want her number, no matter who was around? “Did you give it to him?”

“No. I’m doing everything I can to save my career, and I have a son to raise. I’m not the least bit interested in dating.”

She’d made that clear. “I’m glad he’s gone,” Mack said.

“So am I. What’s the word on Kellan?”

“He’s back home and all is well.”

“That’s good. Did you ever find out why he left?”

“He got mad because he couldn’t hang out with a guy named Denny. It was stupid, but you know teenagers.” Mack hated lying to her, but he had to keep his word. “Have you heard from the day-care place? I know Lucas was worried about going there.”

“He’s okay. They sent me a picture of him playing, which was reassuring.”

“Can you forward it to me?”

She seemed startled. “Why?”

“Because I’d like to see it, too.”

“Don’t worry. Like I said, he’s fine.” She covered the phone while speaking to someone else. “I have a student here,” she said when she came back on the line. “He’s diabetic and needs to test his blood. I have to go.”

Mack said goodbye and hung up. He had to help the customer who’d come in to pick up a convertible BMW, anyway. Fortunately, it was finished.

Mack had him check the car to approve the work, pay and sign the papers.

The man was just walking out when Mack’s phone dinged. He pulled it from his pocket to find a picture of Lucas playing with a couple of other kids on a large rock.

“What’re you looking at?”

Mack had been so preoccupied he hadn’t realized that Rod had come back inside.

“Nothing.”

“It must be something. I’ve never seen such a dreamy smile on your face.”

Mack scowled. “What’re you talking about?”

“Let me see what it was.” Rod reached out, but Mack knocked his hand away.

“Fuck off,” he said, jokingly, but he shoved his phone back into his pocket at the same time. There was no way he wanted Rod to know he’d been looking at a picture of Lucas.