Violence was never the answer. As a kid he’d often used his fists when he first came to Breeze Point. He hadn’t had the skills to control himself. Time, healing and patience from his adoptive parents had allowed him to realize that lashing out in that manner was a learned behavior. His stepfather had shown him no other road, and when met with frustration or pain, he’d used his strength to resolve difficult situations. As an adult he was able now to deal with his frustrations in other ways. He was following a better path.
Watching the slow bidding for Delilah’s offering was nerve-racking. It might be his imagination, but he thought Delilah’s cheeks looked flushed with discomfort. As every second went by her body language became more uncomfortable. She was fading right before his very eyes.
“One hundred dollars!” Mac called out in a loud voice.
From the stage he saw Delilah’s eyes bulge. People standing nearby began to buzz about his bid. Loud clapping rang out in the crowd.
“Wahoo!” Mrs. Sanders cheered. “We’ve got a bid of one hundred dollars from Mac Donahue. Anybody else? Come on now. Don’t be cheap. Can we get a one hundred and ten?”
After a few seconds she called out, “Sold to Mac Donahue for one hundred dollars.”
Delilah sent him a quizzical look. For the life of him he couldn’t tell whether she was surprised, dismayed or happy, which once again proved to him that he had no clue about women.
Delilah walked toward him. She handed him her basket.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Delilah said in a soft voice. “It was very gallant of you to rescue me from low bids. But it was above and beyond.”
“What do you mean? I wanted to do it. My love of peach pie is legendary. It’s one of my Mom’s go-to recipes. She hasn’t made it in a long time.” Although Mac wasn’t about to say it out loud, his mother’s baking had been deeply affected by her dementia. Recipes she had always known by heart were now challenging. It was heartbreaking to see it all unfold.
Delilah let out a groan. She covered her face with her hands. “Oh no. Now with every bite you’re going to be comparing me to Maggie. And she’s a professional baker.”
Mac rubbed his stomach. “No way. With every bite I’m going to be thanking my lucky stars I bid on your pie. You have no idea how painful it is to share peach pie with six brothers.”
Delilah let out a delightful laugh that made him feel as if he’d accomplished a wonderful thing by saying something she thought was funny.
The tradition for the pie auction was to have the baker of the pie and the successful bidder sit down together to enjoy the pie and a bit of polite conversation. Suddenly, Mac couldn’t think of anything he’d like better than to share some pie with Delilah.
“I’m starving. Can we sit down somewhere and enjoy some of this pie?” Although he threw the offer out casually, he felt anything but relaxed about her answer. He would be extremely disappointed if she said no. All of a sudden he found himself wondering why he’d been so opposed to being set up with Delilah. He hadn’t known that much about her as a person, so his shooting Blue down had been an act of stubbornness against the idea of being the object of a matchmaking scheme. Now, he was interested in finding out more about Delilah Dalton.
“Sure. That sounds great. I can bring you up to speed on a few interesting things I stumbled across in the database.” She smiled at him. “I did a little digging.”
Wow. Had Delilah stumbled across a lead with regards to Callie? He reminded himself not to get his hopes up. This whole endeavor was a long shot. Hope. He had to remember to hold fast to hope and not let go. This investigation might have a lot of twists and turns.
“I’d like that,” Mac said, leading Delilah to a spot under a shady Oak tree. Although several picnic tables had been set up on the property, Mac felt the need for a quieter atmosphere. As they passed by several tables it was hard to ignore the curious stares and whispers. He imagined that by nightfall the townsfolk would be in full gossip mode about a possible romance between him and Delilah. He half expected a few calls from his brothers, none of whom were at today’s event.
When they reached the tree it dawned on him that Delilah might not want to sit on the ground. She was wearing a pretty skirt after all. He turned toward her, fully intending to ask her if she wanted to head back toward the picnic tables. She was already seated on the ground with her skirt smoothed down and her shapely legs crossed. He sat himself down beside her and deposited the picnic basket on the ground next to them.
“This is a perfect spot,” Delilah said as she craned her neck to look up at the branches. “This tree gives amazing shade.” Her face held a look of pleasure that reminded him of a little kid. It was nice, he realized, to be in the company of a woman who could revel in the beauty of nature. God’s landscape.