Macy really didn’t mind keeping an eye on Tessa while the little girl’s mother was in court. In fact, she was happy to have her company. While there were always innumerable details to take care of at the inn, there were also quiet times, and right now was one of them.
She took Tessa into the library and let the little girl choose a book from the shelf. Although most of the rooms were designed for couples rather than families, they occasionally had younger guests, so Macy had ensured there was a modest selection of books for them in the library, too. They sat together on the sofa and Macy read the story aloud to Tessa.
As the little girl studied the colorful illustrations, Macy studied the child, noting that Tessa’s delicate features favored her mother, but there were obvious hints of her father in the shape of her eyes, the color of her hair, the stubborn tilt of her chin. Tessa was obviously a mix of both her parents, as Macy suspected her own babies were. Everyone commented on the similarities between Ava and her mama but suggested that the boys favored their father.
Macy wasn’t sure that “father” was an appropriate title for the man who had contributed to the triplets’ DNA. Truthfully, Donor 6243 had done nothing more than deposit his specimen in a cup. She didn’t even know if he knew that his donation had succeeded in mating with an egg and creating a child—or three.
Ava, Max and Sam weren’t his babies—they were her own.
Tessa turned the page, drawing Macy’s attention back to the book in her hands. When the story was done, the little girl decided that her mama had been gone long enough and called out for her. Of course, Macy’s patient explanations about Katelyn’s whereabouts and responsibilities did nothing to appease the child, who grew distressed when her increasingly insistent demands failed to result in her mother’s appearance.
Thankfully, Macy had read a lot of parenting books, so she put on some music and began to dance, encouraging Tessa to move her body, too, hopeful that the activity would work to both distract the little girl and burn off some of her excessive energy. Since there were only a handful of guests staying at the inn and they’d all departed for their chosen activities, she cranked the volume a little and got into the groove. And when one of her all-time favorite songs came on, she added vocals to the dance routine.
She picked Tessa up and twirled her around, making the little girl grin and giggle. So she twirled again, still singing, until the music abruptly shut off.
“Ma-ma!” Tessa announced.
Sure enough, the little girl’s mother had returned and was standing in the doorway of the library, amusement in her eyes, her briefcase and a large take-out bag from Diggers’ in her hands.
Macy was admittedly a little embarrassed to have been caught belting out tunes and shaking her booty—and relieved that it was Katelyn rather than Liam who had come in during the impromptu song-and-dance routine.
“How do you do it?” Kate wondered aloud.
“Are you referring to my complete and total lack of rhythm or my ability to sing so boldly off-key?” Macy asked her.
Tessa’s mom laughed. “I was referring to your ability to effortlessly roll with the punches. I have honestly never seen you flustered by anything.”
“Believe me, I get flustered,” Macy said. “I just try not to show it when I’m at work.”
“As a mom, you’re always working,” Kate said. “You’re just not always getting paid.”
“But there are other perks.”
Kate’s lips curved as she looked at her little girl. “You’re right about that,” she agreed. “And thank you, again, for watching Tessa for me.”
“We had a good time, didn’t we, Tessa?”
When the little girl nodded and leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on Macy’s cheek, her heart melted just a little.
“Trade you,” Kate said, offering the take-out bag in exchange for her daughter.
Macy handed over the child, who squealed as she reached for her mother. “How was the hearing?”
“My client was remanded in custody,” Kate told her. “I figured she would be, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t at least try to get her released. And since her fate was sealed before noon, I decided to pick up lunch for us.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Macy said, but she took the bag and followed the other woman into the kitchen.
“Are you kidding?” Kate set her briefcase on the floor and settled on a stool at the island with her daughter in her lap. “It’s the very least I could do to thank you for bailing me out today.”
“It’s not easy, balancing a career and parenting, is it?” Macy remarked.
“It’s not at all,” the lawyer agreed. Then, as Macy began to unpack the bag: “There’s a chicken Caesar wrap and fries for you.” Because, of course, all the staff at Diggers’ knew the usual orders of their regular patrons. “Cheeseburger and fries for me.”
Macy distributed the food and Tessa immediately stretched her arms out, reaching for the fries.
“You have to wait a minute,” her mother cautioned. “They’re still hot.”
The little girl pursed her lips and blew out puffs of air.
“That’s right.” Kate selected a fry and, following her daughter’s example, blew on the hot potato to cool it.
“Reid keeps nudging me to register her for daycare,” she confided, picking up the thread of her conversation with Macy. “But that seems too much like handing her over to someone else to raise. And Tessa is still so young—and vulnerable—that the idea of leaving her with strangers makes me shudder.”
“Believe me, I know how fortunate I am that my parents stepped up to help out with the triplets,” Macy acknowledged.
“You are lucky,” the other woman said. “I lost my mom when I was twelve, and you’d think that seventeen years should be enough time to come to terms with her death, but it seems like I miss her even more now that I’m a mom myself.”
“I can imagine. I’m constantly asking my mom for advice and reassurance. I don’t always follow her advice,” she admitted. “But it’s nice to have somebody to talk to.”
Kate nodded and chewed. “My grandmother stepped in to fill the void as much as she could, but as I’m the oldest sibling, my brothers more often confide in me—if they confide in anyone.”
Macy smiled as she watched Tessa sneak another fry and carefully blow on it.
“As a result, I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking I know what’s best for them when I don’t,” the other woman continued.
“Why do I get the feeling this is leading to some sort of confession?” Macy wondered aloud.
“Because you’re both smart and astute—and because I saw Liam having lunch at Diggers’.”
“There aren’t many other places to eat in this town,” she remarked, her tone deliberately casual.
“When I stopped by earlier, you didn’t mention that he was with Jenna.”
“I didn’t know her name.”
“She’s Emerson’s cousin, visiting from out of town,” Kate said. “I asked Liam to show her around, as a favor to me.”
“I’m sure he’ll be a great tour guide,” Macy said.
“But there’s nothing else going on.” Kate nibbled on the end of a fry. “Though, if I’m being perfectly honest, I’d hoped there might be.”
“It’s really no concern of mine,” Macy told her.
“Are you sure about that?” the other woman asked. “Because I don’t usually butt into things that aren’t any of my business—at least, I try really hard not to,” she allowed. “But when it comes to family, it’s not always easy to know where to draw the line.”
“I can understand that,” Macy agreed cautiously.
“And I’ve been worried about Liam for a while now.”
“I don’t think there’s any cause for concern—when he and Jenna walked out of here, they looked as if they were completely wrapped up in each other.”
“She’s a nice girl—and totally his type,” Kate confided. “Or what I thought was his type.”
“So what’s the problem?” Macy wondered.
Tessa’s mom pretended not to notice as the little girl stole another french fry. “The problem is that I tried to set him up with Jenna because I wanted him to forget about you.”
“Me?” Macy echoed, stunned.
Kate seemed amused by her reaction. “You can’t tell that my brother’s completely smitten with you?”
She shook her head. “He’s not. I mean, there was a moment...a kiss,” she said, and that acknowledgment was enough to bring the memories of that first kiss rushing to the forefront of her mind—and heat rushing through her veins. And a few days after that first kiss, there’d been a second. “But then...nothing.”
“Because I told him that if he pursued a relationship with you, he’d be opening himself up to a sexual harassment lawsuit,” her boss’s sister confided.
Macy was aghast. “You think I’d sue him?”
“My concern wasn’t specifically about you,” Kate explained. “I just think anyone in a position of power should be hypervigilant to ensure they don’t abuse that power. And I wasn’t just looking out for him—I was also looking out for you.”
“Thank you,” she said dubiously. “But I don’t think you need to worry about your brother harboring any romantic feelings toward me—when I reminded him that I was a single mom, he was eager enough to back off. And even if that hadn’t dissuaded him, my children are my priority, which means I’m not in any position to be thinking about a romantic relationship right now.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Kate decided. “But logic aside...how do you feel about him?”
Macy sighed. “Confused.”
Kate’s smile didn’t completely erase the worry in her eyes. “Reid confused the hell out of me when I first met him. Four hours later, we were naked.”
“Well, that’s something I didn’t know,” she noted.
The other woman chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not something many people do know, but since that’s how we ended up with Tessa, I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
“You lucked out,” Macy said, a little enviously.
“I did,” Kate agreed. And then, “I guess your situation was a little different?”
“My situation was very different.”
“The dad didn’t want to have anything to do with his kids?”
“His involvement began and ended with the donation of his sperm.”
Of course, most people didn’t take the words literally, so she wasn’t surprised when Kate’s follow-up question indicated that she hadn’t, either.
“Any chance that he’s going to change his mind about wanting to know his kids in the future?”
Macy shook her head. “Definitely not.”
Kate opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say more, but she shoved a fry inside and closed it again.
Macy wished she could tell Liam’s sister the truth about the father of her baby. She wasn’t ashamed of the choice she’d made—how could she be when that choice had given her Ava, Max and Sam? But for all its recent growth and changes, Haven was still a small town where some old-fashioned beliefs were held dear. Proof of which was demonstrated by her own parents’ shock and disapproval of her baby news.
She’d never meant for the paternity of her babies to be a big secret. But since coming back to Haven, she’d accepted that her actions were a reflection on her family. And though she was undeniably frustrated by their disapproval, she realized their attitudes were indicative of the larger community.
Maybe the residents would sympathize with and support a couple with fertility issues who opted for IVF or adoption in their desire to have a family, but she suspected they’d be less likely to understand or approve of a single woman choosing the same path. As a result, whenever Beverly was asked about the father of her grandbabies—because yes, there were people in town bold enough to ask the question—she was uncharacteristically cryptic.
“I don’t know anything about Macy’s relationship with him,” she’d say. “She doesn’t say much, and we never had the opportunity to meet him.”
Of course, all those details were true—albeit deliberately misleading.
When Liam returned to the hotel following his lunch with Jenna, who was heading back to California later that day, he found Kyle Landry waiting in the library to see him.
“What can I do for you?” Liam asked, surprised by the unexpected visit of a man he knew only well enough to wave at in passing.
“Actually, I’m here because of what I can do for you.”
Liam knew the beginning of a sales pitch when he heard one, and he was immediately wary. “Okay, what do you think you can do for me?”
“I can offer your guests a culinary experience that will be as unique and unforgettable as your inn,” Kyle said.
“Thanks, but we already have a chef.”
“You have someone who cooks breakfast,” the young man acknowledged.
“That’s all we need.”
“You’re doing your business a disservice by not offering dinner to your guests.”
Liam’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Have you been talking to Macy?”
“Not recently, but in the interest of full disclosure, we used to work together,” Kyle said.
“Well, I’ll tell you what I told her,” Liam said. “There are other places in town where guests can get an evening meal.”
“Diggers’, Jo’s Pizzeria or the Sunnyside Diner,” Kyle said dismissively.
“I eat at those places frequently and have never had any complaints.”
“But they hardly reflect the upscale image you’re attempting to establish for your hotel.”
“What do you know about what I’m trying to establish?” Liam challenged.
“The Dusty Boots Motel on the highway is never booked to capacity, so Haven didn’t really need another hotel. Which suggests that you wanted to appeal to a different clientele. People who want to stay for a few days and not just sleep off their bachelor parties in Reno.”
“How do you know about the hotel business?”
“Two years of restaurant and hotel management.”
“Is that enough to get you a diploma?” Liam asked.
“No,” Kyle admitted. “And then I went to England to get some practical experience.”
The School of Artisan Food, he remembered Macy telling him. It didn’t sound as fancy as Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, but Liam imagined the experience Kyle had gained there was still much more sophisticated than the palates of Haven’s residents.
“And you think that qualifies you to run a hotel kitchen?”
“I think I’m more qualified than anyone else in this town,” Kyle said. “I’d use locally sourced ingredients as much as possible—why truck ingredients in when we’ve got some of the finest dairy, beef and produce right here in Haven? The less we have to ship, the more we keep our food costs down. And I’d create hearty meals that would satisfy the hungry rancher and impress the sophisticated traveler.”
Sure, the concept was appealing, but Liam still had reservations about venturing into the food service business—and especially about this particular chef. “Does your mom know you’re here looking for a job?” he asked.
“No,” Kyle said.
“Are you going to tell her?”
“When there’s something to tell.”
“I guess that’s fair enough,” Liam agreed.
“I could do a tasting menu for you,” the chef suggested.
“What’s that?” he asked, proving, no doubt, that he had no business in the restaurant business.
“Sample portions of appetizers, main courses and desserts,” Kyle explained. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Liam quirked a brow. “What does my relationship status have to do with your desire to work in my kitchen?”
“Nothing. I was only going to suggest that, if you do have a girlfriend—or any kind of significant other—I could do a formal meal presentation for both of you. A dinner for two slash job interview.”
“You know what, Kyle? I think that sounds like a terrific idea.”
“I was beginning to worry that you got lost on your way to the store,” Macy’s father commented when his wife came through the back door with the “few groceries” she’d gone out to get more than an hour earlier.
“You make me crazy sometimes, but I haven’t completely lost my mind yet,” Bev replied, setting her bags on the counter. “I guess I did lose track of time, though, chatting with Celeste Rousseau.”
“What’s the latest gossip from Miners’ Pass?” Macy asked, referring to the name of the street where Ben and Margaret Channing had built the enormous home that Celeste took care of for them.
“The latest—and very exciting—news,” her mother said, emphasizing the word because she did not approve of gossip, “is that the Channing family is going to grow by two.”
Macy waved a hand dismissively. “That’s old news. Deputy Neal told me weeks ago that Regan was expecting twins.”
“Maybe I should have said two more,” Bev clarified. “Because Jason’s and Spencer’s wives are both pregnant.”
“That is exciting news,” Macy agreed.
“I’d be more excited if I got to hear the news while I was enjoying the roast-beef-on-rye sandwich you promised would be my lunch,” Norm said.
“Instead of just rummaging through the bags, you could actually put the groceries away,” Bev remarked, gently lifting the carton of eggs that had been turned on its side by her husband’s efforts.
“I just want the bread,” he said. “Shouldn’t bread be on top?” But he did as his wife had suggested—until he found the bread. Then he started pulling the other ingredients out of the fridge to make his sandwich.
Bev sighed. “Honest to goodness, you have the attention span of a gnat sometimes.”
“My attention has been focused on a roast-beef-on-rye sandwich since you went out to get the bread.”
“Sit.” She pointed toward the table. “I’ll make your sandwich.”
“Horseradish and mustard,” he reminded her.
“Because that’s different than what I’ve been making for you for forty years,” she muttered dryly.
Macy smiled at the familiar and affectionate bickering as she took over putting the groceries away.
When she was in high school—and helping a close friend deal with the fallout of her parents’ divorce, she’d sometimes wondered what inspired one couple to weather the stormy seas of matrimony for a lifetime together while another might jump overboard when the first waves hit. She still didn’t know the answer to that question, but she was grateful to her parents for providing her with an example of what a marriage could be. Bev and Norm’s wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was always a work in progress.
“When are the babies due?” Macy asked, when her father was happily chowing down on his coveted sandwich.
“Both in November, although Kenzie is due at the beginning of the month and Alyssa closer to the end.”
“It’s like there’s suddenly a baby boom in this town,” Norm chimed in, after gulping down half the glass of milk his wife had served with his sandwich.
Bev nodded. “And a sign that our young people are sticking around to help grow the community instead of running off to the cities, like they all used to do.”
“You mean like I did?” Macy guessed.
“Like a lot of young people did,” her mother said.
“And you’re home now,” her father pointed out. “Raising your babies where you were raised.”
“And grateful to be here.”
“Oh, don’t start that again,” Bev chided. “Tell me instead about your plans for tonight.”
“My plans are to hang out with Ava, Max and Sam—reading stories, singing songs, rolling around on the floor and splashing in the tub.” She grinned. “In other words, the usual.”
“You should go out,” her mother urged.
“Where would I go?” she asked, startled by the suggestion.
“To see a movie?”
“Or I could stay in and watch a movie,” Macy suggested as an alternative. “There’s got to be something new on Netflix.”
Bev shook her head despairingly. “You really need to set the bar a little higher. Do something for yourself. Reconnect with old friends. Meet new people.”
“Ahh. Now I see where you’re going with this.”
“What do you mean?” her mother asked, feigning innocence—albeit not very convincingly.
“You think if I put on some pretty clothes and high heels, I’ll somehow manage to dazzle an unsuspecting cowboy who will then declare his undying love and desire to marry me and be a father to my three babies.”
“A little lipstick wouldn’t hurt, either,” Bev said.
“While I appreciate your confidence in the power of painted lips, my days of dazzling anyone are long past. I don’t have the time or the energy for any romantic entanglements right now.”
“I don’t want you to grow old alone,” her mother admitted.
“I think I’m pretty much guaranteed not to be alone for the next eighteen years.”
“And since you brought them into the conversation, I’ll say what I’ve been saying since they were born—those babies need a daddy.”
“No,” Macy denied, though perhaps not as vehemently as she had a few months earlier. “They need to grow up in a stable and loving environment, and I’m so grateful to both of you for helping to give them that.”
“She gets that stubborn streak from you,” Norm said to his wife.
“Whose side are you on here?” Bev asked him.
“Yours. Always yours,” he placated her, rising from the table to put his plate and cup in the dishwasher. “But in this case, I think we all want the same thing—and that’s what’s best for Ava, Max and Sam.”
“Of course, that’s what we all want,” Bev said.
“We just can’t agree on what that is,” Macy noted.
“I’m only suggesting that our daughter shouldn’t close herself off to any possibilities,” her mother said, refusing to let the issue drop.
“And I only wish—”
The ring of her cell phone cut off that thought.
Macy grabbed for the device, grateful for the interruption. But her finger hovered above the screen, hesitating to answer the call when she saw Liam Gilmore’s name and number on the display.
“I’m going to hang out with my grandchildren,” Norm announced, moving toward the living room.
“They’re napping,” Bev said.
“Then that’s what I’m going to do, too.”
His wife smiled as she shook her head.
“Are you going to answer that?” she asked Macy, when the second ring sounded.
“I probably should,” she said.
Because while it wasn’t often that her boss contacted her when she was away from the inn, it wasn’t out of the ordinary, either. He’d called her once because he couldn’t remember the password for the computer—ST@G3_C0@CH_1NN—and another time to ask her where she’d hidden the laundry detergent—cleverly and deviously, in the cupboard beside the washing machine in the laundry room.
She didn’t mind these harmless inquiries. What she minded was the way her heart inevitably skipped a beat when she saw his name on the display, and then another when she heard his voice. He’d made no more overtures since he’d kissed her in the barn the day of his niece’s birthday party, but the memories of the kisses they’d shared continued to keep her awake at night—and tease her in explicit and erotic dreams when she finally did sleep.
Macy pushed those thoughts aside and connected the call.