When I Found You by Brenda Novak

Two

Mack glanced at Natasha’s little boy in the rearview mirror, but he was driving, so he couldn’t let his gaze linger as he was tempted to do. This was the first time he’d ever been alone with Lucas, the first time he’d been able to study the child without having to worry that Natasha might figure out what he suspected.

Did the boy look like him?

It was hard to tell. He’d watched Natasha’s son carefully ever since he first met him three days ago, but it was hard to say. He’d never seen Natasha’s ex, hadn’t run across a single picture of the man while they were packing. Maybe the boy resembled Ace so much the answer would be apparent, but from what he’d seen so far, the boy was the spitting image of Natasha.

He pulled into HD Home Supply, parked and walked around to let Lucas out of the car.

The kid had already unfastened his booster seat.

“Good job,” Mack said. “Let’s go.”

Lucas insisted on taking a plastic sword into the store, and Mack couldn’t help smiling when he brandished it at everyone they encountered. Maybe the boy didn’t look a great deal like him, but he couldn’t hold still for two seconds, which was exactly how Dylan described Mack as a child.

Mack let his gaze run over the boy again. Was this his son?

“On guard!” Lucas yelled, frightening an old lady who was trying to purchase some paint.

“Let’s take it down a notch, okay, buddy?” Mack said with a chuckle, ignoring the dirty look the woman gave him.

“Why are we here?” Lucas asked, sword fighting with phantom opponents once they reached the main aisle, which was momentarily clear.

“We’re getting supplies, remember?” Mack told him.

“What kind of supplies?”

“A window, if we can find one that’s the right size. But as old as that house is, we’ll probably have to order a custom one. I’m also going to need a hammer and some nails. A socket wrench. A drill. A saw. A Shop-Vac. Those sorts of things.”

“My dad has a hammer,” he announced.

Mack wished he could borrow it and any other tools Ace had. It seemed silly to purchase everything again when it was unlikely Ace would need them in the near future. But he wasn’t going to ask, even if he was willing to make the drive to get them. Any guy who could leave his wife in the situation Natasha was—heartbroken over what’d happened to her practice, barely able to eat or sleep because of the pressure and worry of everything that was going on in her life, and alone with a child to care for and no money—was a total douchebag. That Natasha didn’t expect any more from her ex spoke volumes. Maybe that was why Mack felt completely justified when he took advantage of this opportunity to speak to her unsuspecting little boy and, hopefully, satisfy some of his curiosity. “What’s your dad like?”

“I dunno.”

“He nice?”

“Yeah.”

“What types of things does he do?”

“Plays video games on TV.”

Lucas would’ve knocked a stack of batteries off the shelf if Mack hadn’t reached out to redirect his sword. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know. On the TV, I guess.”

Ace should be set, then. Mack didn’t remember loading a TV into the truck, which meant any that Natasha and Ace had owned together had stayed with him.

The aisle where he could find the windows came up on their right. Mack took hold of Lucas’s free hand to guide him down it. “Can you tell me when your birthday is, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“So? When is it?”

The boy screwed up his face as though he was thinking hard but ultimately shook his head. “I can’t remember.”

It was in the fall. Mack knew that much. The instant he’d learned that Natasha had had a baby, he’d counted back the months, and would never forget how hard his heart had started to pound when he realized he’d been with her about the time she’d gotten pregnant. She’d returned to Whiskey Creek to see her mother for Christmas, they’d bumped into each other at the annual Victorian Christmas Days Celebration, and things had moved quickly from there—years of pent-up desire had exploded all at once.

“Look at all these windows,” Lucas said, obviously impressed.

“Pretty cool, right? Now we just need to see if we can find one that will fit.”

Before he could check the various sizes, Mack’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out to see that his oldest brother was trying to get hold of him.

He punched the talk button. “Hey, Dyl.”

“What’s up, man?”

“Not much. We made it to Silver Springs. But you should see the house.”

“Is it nice?”

“No, it’s a piece of shit.”

Lucas’s eyes widened. “Oh... I’m going to tell Mom!” he said, covering his mouth. “You’re not supposed to say that word.”

Mack gave the boy a sheepish look. “Don’t tell on me,” he whispered.

“Okay.” He grinned as though he liked having a secret, but then he started saying, “Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” to himself, as though he was practicing it.

“Who’s with you?” Dylan asked.

Hoping Lucas would forget what he’d learned before they got back to the house, Mack returned to his conversation. “Natasha’s boy.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s a cool little dude.” He didn’t add that Lucas might be his cool little dude. He wasn’t going to tell anyone that, not until he knew for sure.

“I’d like to meet him,” Dylan said. “I’m surprised that Natasha has never brought him back to Whiskey Creek.”

So was Mack. That she’d stayed away felt intentional, and he thought he knew why. “She was busy with her residency, then starting her practice.”

“It’s amazing what she’s achieved, especially considering what she started with. I thought she was in the clear, you know? I can’t believe what’s happened. How’s she handling everything?”

“She’s lost weight, isn’t sleeping well.” He’d heard her walking around the house late at night, could see the weariness in her movements and the dark circles under her eyes as they packed up the van. “What happened would be a nightmare for anyone. But she’s tough. She’ll pull through.” He planned to see to it. That was another reason he’d packed up and headed to LA almost as soon as he learned about her divorce.

“I wish there was something more we could do.”

“I’m doing what I can.”

“Whatever happened to the woman who destroyed her practice?”

“She’s in prison and she won’t be getting out.” He dodged a sword thrust that would’ve hit him in the nuts and couldn’t help laughing as he once again guided Lucas’s sword in a safer direction.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. This kid—Never mind. Has Natasha ever mentioned to you what went wrong in her marriage?”

“No. I called her when the news about her nurse first broke, and we discussed the stress it was putting on the relationship. She admitted things were getting rocky, but that’s it.”

“She didn’t say why they were rocky?”

“Even if she did, I couldn’t go into it, Mack. She wouldn’t like me discussing the details with you, and you know it.”

“With me specifically? Why not?”

“Come on. Things have always been...complicated between you two.”

That statement bothered Mack, but he didn’t want to examine why, so he let it go as Dylan followed up with, “When are you coming back?”

“Do they have the window?” Lucas asked at the same time.

Mack smoothed the hair off the boy’s face. “We’ll check in a sec,” he told him. Into the phone, he said, “I’m not sure that I am coming back.”

“What? You live here, remember?” Dylan sounded shocked.

“I’ll get my stuff, of course, but I think it’s time we go ahead and expand into LA.”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“No reason, I guess. Just seems sort of sudden. It isn’t because Natasha would be close by and you could help her get back on her feet, is it?”

Mack heard the wry tone of his brother’s voice, but he wasn’t going to apologize for wanting to take care of Natasha. “That’s part of it. She needs me,” he said simply. “Her bastard ex took almost everything.”

“That makes me defensive, too, but I don’t know that you’ll be doing her any favors if you stay.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve always done my best to look out for her.” There was only that one time when he’d screwed up. Surely that night didn’t negate all the good things he’d tried to do over the years.

Or did it?

“You’ve done a lot,” Dylan conceded. “But all she’s ever really wanted was for you to love her.”

Mack straightened in surprise. His brother would say that now, after all the pressure he’d been under to stay away from her? “I couldn’t love her,” he said. “She was only sixteen when she came into our lives. I was twenty-five. And our father was married to her mother!”

“I know,” Dylan said with a sigh. “I’ve felt bad for you both from the beginning. And I’ve always admired you for not taking advantage of her feelings. You had to have known how much she adored you—there was no way you could miss it. She followed you around like a lost puppy, tried to get close to you at every opportunity. I’ll never forget one night I went into the kitchen to eat, and she told me dinner was gone. But then you came home and I found out the food wasn’t gone—she’d just saved all that was left for you.”

Dylan chuckled at the memory, but Mack couldn’t laugh. Natasha had made her feelings plain, all right, and, Lord help him, he’d managed to keep his own feelings under control for many years. But all the wins didn’t matter; he’d succumbed in the end—and Lucas could be proof of that.

Did Natasha get pregnant without telling him, and then marry someone else? Once he’d learned of the pregnancy, he’d tried to ask her, but she’d insisted the child belonged to Ace—and if they were happy together, he couldn’t get in the way of that.

“I’ve got to go.” Mack was suddenly anxious to get off the phone. Today, everything his brother said seemed to upset him. “We’re in a store.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Give Natasha my love.”

“Sounds like you two stay in touch.”

“So...”

“I guess you can do that yourself.” After he disconnected, he regretted the curtness of his response. If not for Dylan, he would’ve been put into foster care when he was just a boy. He loved and admired his oldest brother more than any man in the world.

Besides, the way he’d acted just now would only confirm that Dylan had hit a tender spot. But Mack had always been torn when it came to Natasha. The way he’d met her, and her young age at the time, had set them both up for a tug-of-war that had left him facing something he’d never anticipated.

“Are we done with this shit?” Lucas asked, once again hitting one of the racks with his sword.

Mack couldn’t help smiling in spite of being all twisted up inside. What a little hellion. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you are my son,” he muttered to himself and started going through the windows.

It felt nice to have a break from Lucas. As much as Natasha loved him, it was so much harder to deal with her own emotions while she was also trying to make sure he was happy, well cared for, entertained and shielded, as much as possible, from the more difficult aspects of the divorce. She’d thought her ex would help more, but the divorce had brought out the worst in Ace. Determined to be free to focus on his own life, he was pretty much expecting her to take care of Lucas, even when it came to child support, since he didn’t have a job. His wealthy parents were helping him get by, and she had no one to lean on until she could get back on her feet, but he didn’t seem to care whether she had money, even though it wasn’t just she who would suffer if she couldn’t buy groceries.

She supposed she shouldn’t be too critical of him when it came to money matters, however. After all, she’d been the primary breadwinner. It made sense that he’d expect her to take care of herself. But he knew that she was struggling, and he knew why. That should’ve made a difference.

He just didn’t care. That was the bottom line. And she suspected he preferred she be the one who had to babysit so she wouldn’t have the opportunity to find someone else.

Little did he know, she didn’t want to get into another relationship. She’d never marry again, never risk her peace of mind or her financial well-being, let alone her heart. She was so done with that. Since she was sixteen, she’d tried to give Mack everything she had, and he hadn’t wanted it. So she’d tried to give Ace everything she had left. And it hadn’t been enough.

She refused to keep trying, to wind up as a carbon copy of her mother, who’d been with so many different men over the years that Natasha couldn’t even remember them all.

Exhausted, she stopped sweeping and rested her head on her hands. How many “fathers” had she had? Some of her mother’s lovers had only been around for a few weeks, and yet Anya had insisted Natasha call each one Daddy. It was a pathetic attempt to draw the man in and get him to commit. But it never worked—at least, not for long. J.T., Mack’s dad, was probably the longest relationship she’d ever had, and that was because he was in prison for the first part of the marriage.

Natasha was going to live her life differently—with some dignity—even if it meant being alone.

All she wanted to do was collapse into a chair, but, drawing a deep breath, she summoned the energy to finish sweeping. She had to keep putting one foot in front of the other and appreciate all the little things. That was how she’d get through this dark time. In this moment, she could clean without having to worry about Lucas getting near the rat droppings or trying to escape out the front gate, where he could get into the street. That was something.

Thank God.

Actually, she could thank Mack. He was the one who was helping her—the only one who’d come to her rescue. That meant it would be difficult not to be too grateful to him. Having his support when she felt so lost and broken would naturally soften her heart toward him. He always did things like that, things that made her believe he cared.

He probably did care to some degree, or he wouldn’t do anything, but she had to remember that it wasn’t in the way she’d always wanted him to care. She couldn’t let the nice things he did cloud her judgment. No way would she put her son through anything remotely similar to what she’d been through as a child. The only father Lucas knew was Ace, and it was going to stay that way.

She’d opened the windows to air out the place, so she could hear the car when Mack and Lucas returned. She wished the errand had taken them longer, wished for an additional couple of hours in which she could take a nap. But at least she’d had ninety minutes of silence in which she’d been able to accomplish a few things.

“Mom! We’re back!” Lucas yelled as he came running up the steps and into the house, letting the screen door slam behind him.

“Were you able to find the right window?” She turned, expecting her son to rush into her arms, but he had his hands full, and he was so eager to reach her that he nearly tripped.

“No, but we got you these!”

He was holding a bouquet of red and white tulips. Her favorite.

The sight of them—the simple beauty of them—made her throat grow tight.

It was the exhaustion, she told herself. She hadn’t gotten enough sleep for months, and it was beginning to bring her emotions to the surface.

Afraid Mack would be able to tell that she’d choked up for no reason, she was careful not to look at him when he came in.

“Thank you,” she told Lucas as she took the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”

Her son smiled proudly. “Uncle Mack said you used to plant them in the front yard when you lived with him.”

She’d forgotten about that. She’d tried to add a few feminine touches to the all-male home—had cooked and cleaned and planted flowers to spruce up the place—in an attempt to repay them for taking her and her mother in. They’d basically been homeless. What would’ve happened to her if Mack and his brothers hadn’t done that? Her own mother had been too caught up in getting her next fix, whether that was a man or the drugs she used, to keep a roof over their heads or even notice what her daughter needed.

Mack was carrying a bag of groceries in each arm, which he put on the kitchen counter. “We couldn’t find the right size of window,” he said to her, “but I’m going to check online. You hungry? I got stuff to make sandwiches.”

She was starving. She hadn’t had anything to eat today except the carrots Lucas had refused to finish from the sack lunch she’d given him on the drive. But she didn’t want to rely on Mack in any way, not more than she could help it, at least. “No, I’m fine. I ate on the drive,” she lied and pretended to be completely uninterested in what he’d purchased as she searched for a container for the flowers.

There were a couple of dusty old mason jars in the pantry. She rinsed one out and carefully arranged the flowers before putting them on the counter with the groceries. She had to admit, the splash of color lifted her spirits. As insanely busy as she’d been, she hadn’t stopped to admire a bouquet of flowers in...forever. With summer coming on, she’d all but missed spring.

As she set to work cleaning the kitchen, Mack made her a sandwich anyway. He used a plastic fork to spread the mayonnaise and mustard and put the finished sandwich on a paper towel on the counter.

Since she was hungry, and it would go to waste if she didn’t eat it, she took it and sat on the floor, where she could use the wall to support her back while she ate.

The sandwich was made with sourdough bread and filled with thin layers of honey ham, and she’d never tasted anything better. She hadn’t quite finished when a bottle of beer came into focus. She’d been enjoying her food so much she hadn’t realized Mack was standing over her, trying to hand her a drink. “Hasn’t been in the fridge long enough to be cold quite yet,” he said, “but it tastes okay.”

This time she didn’t even try to refuse. He’d already popped the top.

Once she finished her sandwich, she just sat there, slumped against the wall, watching him play with her son while slowly drinking her beer.

“You all set?” he asked, after she was done, and offered a hand to help her up.

Surprisingly, she’d regained some of her strength. Who knew a sandwich could make such a difference? But she still had a problem with the fact that she was once again relying on Mack Amos. The last time she’d accepted his help, she’d fallen so deeply in love he’d ruined her for all other men.

But she was going to be much smarter this time.

They needed to get far enough on the cleaning that they could unload the beds, at least, so they’d have somewhere to sleep tonight. Telling herself that his touch did nothing for her, she let Mack haul her to her feet.