Chapter 27

twenty-seven

LIAM

I placed a log of wood on the chopping block. With clenched muscles, I swung the ax high, then brought it down hard, splitting the wood into three pieces. With a satisfying thud, the wood fell onto the frozen ground.

I'd left the house more than an hour ago, doing anything I could to take my mind off Paul. Under normal circumstances, simply being outside would have de-stressed me. But there was nothing normal about my latest assignment.

Family meant everything to Paul. Even when I'd shown him the adoption papers, he hadn't believed the people he'd grown up with weren't his biological family. The DNA results had confirmed his worst nightmare.

I'd thought the letter from his biological mother would help him understand why he'd been adopted. But instead of giving him the comfort he was searching for, it made him question everything he knew about himself.

I threw the logs of wood into the wheelbarrow. What Paul hadn't realized was that he was more than the molecules of DNA inside him. Everything he believed in and valued came from being raised in a loving family.

I didn't have to meet Alex's biological parents to know what his life would have been like with them. I'd seen too many children who were abused and neglected. As hard as it was for Paul to understand, his biological mother had done the right thing.

I rested the head of the ax on the chopping block and stared at the view of Sunrise Bay. Taking a deep breath, I let my gaze wander, hoping the peaceful scenery would prepare me for what came next.

The small town looked like a scene from a Christmas card. Even under a blanket of snow, the tall spire of the church rose in the air like an ancient monument. Pine and spruce trees grew like silent sentinels around Willow Lake, sheltering the bay from the worst of the ice-cold wind. It was the kind of town I could get used to, but that decision was for another day.

It was time to go inside and speak to Paul. If we were going to stay under the same roof, we needed to come to some sort of understanding. If nothing else, Amy would sense the anger that had sent me outside.

The sound of the back door opening and closing echoed across the yard. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Amy bounding down the stairs.

It was Paul. He was walking toward me with a plate in his hands. When he stopped in front of me, I didn't know how to ease the silence stretching between us.

"I thought you might need something to eat and drink." He held out the plate. "The fruitcake has just come out of the oven."

I took the plate and watched as he slipped the straps of a backpack off his shoulders .

"I filled a thermos with hot coffee. You can use the lid as a cup."

Before I could tell him I wasn't thirsty, he took the thermos out of the bag.

"You've chopped a lot of wood."

I couldn't take my eyes off him. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was as nervous as I was. "It's supposed to get colder over the next few days. I don't want to leave Jacob's house without replacing the wood we've used."

Paul's hands stilled on the thermos. "Are we leaving?"

"Not yet, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared."

He cleared his throat. "That sounds like a good idea. We could use the grocery list I've made to replace the food we've used. Jacob won't have to worry about baking for a while. By the end of the day, he'll have four or five cakes sitting in his freezer."

I almost smiled. "Jacob doesn't bake, so he'll appreciate what you've done."

Paul handed me a cup of coffee and held out his hand for the plate of cake. "I can hold the plate if it's easier to take a slice."

Anyone looking at us would have wondered what was going on. The food was going back and forth like we were passing a hot potato.

"You forgot to take some cake," he reminded me.

Instead of telling him I couldn't eat anything if I tried, I took a slice. If this was some kind of peace offering, I wasn't turning it down. "Have you been baking since I left?"

Paul nodded. "Amy's still asleep, so I thought I'd make Jacob some more cakes." He looked down at the plate in his hand. "I'm sorry I was angry with you. I shouldn't have blamed you for not telling me about the letter. "

The knot in my stomach unraveled. "It was a lot to take in at once."

"I know, but I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on you."

I held up my cup. "If you're not busy, we could share a cup of coffee."

Paul looked at the thermos lid.

I wouldn't blame him if he said no. It was one thing saying he was sorry. Sharing the same cup was completely different.

He picked up the backpack. "I'd like that. We could sit on the picnic table under the veranda."

I followed him across the yard. "Do you realize this is the first time we've had to apologize to each other?"

Paul wiped a soft layer of snow off the seats. "It's a miracle we haven't driven each other crazy. How do you think we handled our first disagreement?"

The fragile peace between us grew stronger. "I think we did okay. What about you?"

"I should have come outside ages ago. But I was worried about what I'd say."

I handed him the cup. "I used the wood as an excuse not to come inside."

Paul took a sip of coffee and handed the cup back to me. "I think we've been very mature."

This time, I did smile. I helped myself to another slice of fruitcake. "The cake helps."

"I was hoping it would. You can have as much as you like. We've got plenty."

"Are you trying to make me put on weight?"

Paul grinned. "That won't happen. I've seen you after you've been in Jacob's gym. "

My eyebrows rose. "Why haven't you worked out with me?"

"I don't like getting hot and sweaty." Paul's face turned beet red. "With exercise. Not, you know…anything else."

My imagination filled in the blanks of his ‘anything else' and came up with some interesting possibilities.

I bit into my piece of cake. "This is really good."

"It's one of my favorite recipes."

I took another sip of coffee, then handed the cup to Paul. "What's your most popular cake?"

"It depends on the occasion. Chocolate fudge is a firm favorite with everyone. Fruitcake's popular, but so is raspberry ripple. Lemon and lime is divine if my client wants a cake with a tangy, citrus flavor."

"How many cakes were you baking each week?"

Paul leaned his elbows on the table. "Between four and six. If I had a wedding cake or a big birthday cake to make and decorate, it was less."

That didn't seem like a lot to me. "And you could make a living from that number of cakes?"

"If I had to pay rent or a mortgage, it'd be hard. But because we live in my parents' house, Amy and I manage okay. One day I'd like to open a bakery, but that will have to wait until Amy's a lot older."

My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller display and frowned. "I need to get this."

As soon as I answered my phone, my gaze shot to Paul. The man talking to me was the last person I'd expected to hear from. After he'd finished talking, I handed the phone to Paul. "It's for you. It's Alex."

His face lost all its color.

"Are you all right? "

Paul cleared his throat. "I'll be fine." After taking a deep breath, he held the phone to his ear. "Hi, Alex. This is Paul."