When A Man Loves A Woman(49)

According to the file provided to them by Parker, Callie Duvall was an heiress of sorts in Savannah. She was the daughter of Lionel and Davinia Duvall. Lionel was one of the heirs to the Duvall Electronics Corporation. As such he held the key to the city of Savannah, as well as many prestigious clubs and organizations in the area. If Callie was his sister, Mac reckoned, she had been reared with a silver spoon in her mouth.

He almost laughed out loud at the thought of it. His Callie had been down to earth and humble. As kids they had never had a single luxury. She had never been spoiled. He prayed that hadn’t changed any in all these years.

Mac drove past a host of Victorian houses on tree lined streets in an area where historic homes were located. The creative part of his brain appreciated all the beautiful homes they drove past—some he imagined had been renovated and restored—while the main part of his mind was focused on seeing Callie. He imagined she might be stunned and frightened by his sudden appearance in her life. He bit his lip, wondering if she might tell him to leave. Who knew what she’d been told about him over the years? Or if she even remembered him. Did she think he had abandoned her? He grinded his teeth as all the possibilities swarmed over him.

Delilah reached out and caressed his cheek. “Everything is going to be wonderful, Mac. This will give you closure. Being reunited with Callie is the rainbow after all the storms.”

He cast a quick glance at Delilah, then turned back to concentrate on navigating the car. “I hope this is something good for Callie. There are still so many unanswered questions. Why? How? Who separated us?”

“I know, Mac,” Delilah said in a soothing voice. “It’s all very troubling, but I think you should focus on the reunion   and not the deception that lies at the root of all this. If nothing else, you know that your sister, like yourself, was a victim of whomever separated you. You need to be there for one another as a support system.”

Once again Delilah was showing him that cooler heads prevailed. He needed to stuff down his anger and focus on the blessed reunion   awaiting them. If Parker’s information was correct, Callie Duvall of Savannah, Georgia was his long-lost, beloved sister. They were moments away from the house she had grown up in, a place where she continued to live. Duvall House. He couldn’t help but wonder if the people who lived in that very house had been behind her abduction?

As he reached the end of Pritchard Street, the GPS instructed him to turn right on to Magnolia. Adrenaline coursed through him like quicksilver. His chest felt tight. His palms were moist as they gripped the steering wheel.

“I think this is it on the right,” Delilah said just as the GPS announced that they had reached their destination.

Mac let out a whistle as he gazed out of the car window at the house that took up a large-sized lot on the street. It was a huge, three story, Gothic Revival style home. It was an architectural masterpiece. The grounds surrounding it were lush and green. Flowers were in full bloom in abundance. A black gate sat close to the street, no doubt protecting the occupants from unannounced visitors. As they exited the car and stood staring up at the house, Mac felt almost light-headed at the grandness of this moment. He felt as if he was standing on the precipice of something wonderful. Something life changing.

“Are you ready?” Delilah asked, reaching out to hold his hand.

“I’ve been ready for twenty years,” he said with a nod, feeling a jolt of energy as they stepped toward the gate. He pushed against it, surprised that they were given immediate entry. They walked down the walkway leading them to the front steps. Once they were at the door, Delilah reached out and pressed the bell. He could hear the chime ring out from where they were standing on the porch. It was amazing he could hear over the wild thumping of his heart.

The door opened with a flourish. A tiny woman wearing a black and white uniform eyed them with a hint of curiosity. “May I help you?” the older woman asked, her Scottish brogue strong and hearty.

“We’d like to see Callie Duvall, please,” Delilah announced. Mac owed Delilah a debt of gratitude. All of a sudden he had felt tongue-tied and unable to utter a single word.

“Who might I say is calling?” she asked, ushering them inside.

“Old friends,” Delilah said smoothly. “What a lovely home,” she gushed, clearly trying to divert the woman’s attention away from introductions.

“Please sit in the drawing room while I see if Miss Callie is available.” The clickity-click of her heels echoed against the hardwood floors.

Delilah sat down on a velvet couch while he stood by the window. He paced back and forth as anxiety reared its ugly head. “Mac. Settle down. You don’t want Callie to think you’re a crazy person, do you?” she teased.