A Child Changes Everything

“My sister has a daughter, a little girl named Katie.”

“A little girl. How do you feel about that?” Mason asked, thinking he could predict Lisa’s response all too well. No wonder she was chewing her lip. The dream of finding her birth family had not included a niece.

“I’m an aunt, and it’s…I guess it’s different. I never expected to be an aunt.”

Given that she’d babysat only once in her entire life—an upsetting experience, as he recalled—he doubted she’d be willing to have much to do with the child. “I assume you plan to meet Katie,” he said.

Lisa looked him straight in the eye, making it impossible for him to miss the hope in her expression. “No, it’s a lot more than that. Katie needs me. I’m bringing her home.”

Dear Reader,

There are few experiences in life as special as reading letters from those of you who have benefited from my books. So many of you wrote to say you identified with Emily Martin and her very personal loss in Baby in Her Arms. Your praise and appreciation made me realize that being able to write a story is a gift that reaches out to so many people in a very personal way.

This next book, A Child Changes Everything, was inspired by the idea that at some point in our lives as parents we experience a moment when we’re unsure whether or not we’re good parents.

Lisa Clarke’s journey from being a fearful, hesitant parent to her discovery of what joy there is in being a mother forms the basis of A Child Changes Everything. Equally important to Lisa’s story is Mason Stephens, the man she once loved, a man who comes to understand what it took for Lisa to bring Katie into her life. Their shared love for children rekindles their love for each other.

It is my hope that A Child Changes Everything will enrich your reading experience.

I welcome any feedback you might like to offer on this book, or any of my books. Please contact me on my Web site, www.stellamaclean.com, or e-mail me at stella@stellamaclean.com.

Sincerely,

Stella MacLean

A Child Changes Everything
Stella MacLean

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stella MacLean has spent her life collecting story ideas, waiting for the day someone would want to read about the characters who have lurked in her heart and mind for many years. Stella’s love of reading and writing began in grade school and has continued to play a major role in her life. A longtime member of Romance Writers of America and a Golden Heart Award finalist, Stella enjoys the hours she spends tucked away in her office with her Maine coon cat, Emma Jean, and her imaginary friends while writing stories about love, life and happiness.

Books by Stella MacLean

HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

1487—HEART OF MY HEART

1553—BABY IN HER ARMS

This book is dedicated to single parents everywhere, for the love and courage they show their children as they go about their daily lives.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To Paula Eykelhof and Adrienne Macintosh, my editors, whose generous editorial support enriched this book in so many ways.

To Megan Long, editorial assistant, for all her thoughtfulness.

To my husband, Garry, whose unstinting encouragement made writing this book a wonderful process.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

LISA CLARKE’S LIFE as she’d known it had ended.

She missed her mother; she especially missed the quiet evenings they’d shared these past few months, when they talked about her dad and her mother’s early years in the family home in Durham, North Carolina. Her mother had kept that house because she loved it, the house Lisa still lived in today. It was during those evenings that her mom had confided her dream of playing professional tennis, a dream she’d left behind when she married Lisa’s father. It was so like her mother to put her marriage first.

They’d been closer in those last months than at any time before, and Lisa was so thankful for all of it.

Today’s meeting with Sherman Tweedsdale, the family lawyer, about her mother’s will should be short and to the point. Other than a couple of bequests, she was the sole beneficiary.

Having given her name to his secretary, Lisa sat alone in the reception area. She didn’t mind waiting for Tank, as her parents had always called him. She had only an empty house to go back to, and pressure from a real-estate agent to sell the property.

She’d spent an hour this morning making a list of things she needed to have done should she decide to put the property up for sale. She’d learned the list-making habit from her mom. She sighed. It all felt too soon. There were so many good memories of her life in that house, memories she wasn’t prepared to abandon so quickly. True, her mom and dad had often been overprotective, but Lisa had realized long ago that their protection came from their love for her.

Relieved to have a few quiet moments to herself, she glanced around the paneled walls, her gaze coming to rest on a group of photos showing Tank’s achievements. Staring at a photo of her father and Tank at a Chamber of Commerce awards dinner, Lisa became aware of someone approaching the reception area.

Shifting her gaze, she saw Mason Stephens standing there. The room dipped and swayed before it settled back, and still he stood there, his long black hair almost touching the neck of his dark leather jacket. Pain circled her heart, draining the air from her lungs.

Attempting to hide her dismay, she stared at the man who’d walked out of her life five years ago. His eyes still held the same piercing quality, adding to the air of authority he carried so well. Lisa made an effort to block the rush of emotions his presence exposed. She toyed with her purse strap and tried desperately to slow her racing pulse.

She could not let him see how much it hurt to be reminded of her own role in the failure of their relationship—her refusal to agree to children, a refusal Mason could never accept.

“Hello, Lisa,” Mason said, his rueful smile lighting his gray-green eyes. Mason was a handsome man, and his good looks, combined with his self-assurance, made him every woman’s dream. Or nearly every woman’s…

“What are you doing here?” she asked, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice as memories tumbled around her mind. Very often his evening shifts as a policeman and hers as a nurse had allowed them to meet at his apartment where they’d relax over a late supper. It was their special time together. She couldn’t forget the excitement of being with him.

Despite the fluttering sensation in her stomach, she squared her shoulders and waited for his answer.

“I’m here to meet Tank,” he said as he continued to look her over from his vantage point near the door.

Part of her wanted to bask in his appraising glance, but she couldn’t afford to succumb to his well-honed charms; she knew the emotional toll reliving the past would take. Five years ago she’d loved Mason and believed that he loved her, until the night he’d proposed at their favorite restaurant and talked about the children he wanted. She’d tried to explain that she wasn’t ready to have a family. But he hadn’t understood and instead had said hurtful things before walking out of the restaurant and out of her life.

She’d seen Mason briefly at her father’s funeral two years ago, as well as once at the grocery store with his then-wife, Sara, and their little boy. After that, she hadn’t seen him again until last month at her mother’s funeral.

So much for staying friends—his idea, not hers.

Still, although she missed Mason after they broke up, not seeing him was easier in so many ways.

Their final argument had ended in a painful exchange that convinced Lisa she was better off without him.

But her mother would want her to be polite, to take the high road. “Thank you for coming to Mom’s funeral. I really appreciated it.”

“You’re welcome.”

The minutes stretched while Lisa struggled to think of something to say to the man she’d once loved.

“So, you’ve become a P.I. I saw the ad in the paper for your firm. A year ago you left the police force, wasn’t it?” she said to ease the awkwardness between them.

Leaning against the door frame, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sizzling-tight jeans. “Yeah, it’s been a pretty hectic year all-around.”

“How’s Sara?”

His expression clouded over. “You really want to know?”

Why had she asked that? Thanks to Sara’s sister Melanie, who was also a nurse and worked at the hospital with her, Lisa had heard that Mason’s marriage had ended after a year. She wasn’t interested in Mason’s ex-wife, and she definitely did not want him to think she was.

But she had always thought Sara and Mason made sense as a couple and deep down she believed they’d get back together. After all, they shared common interests like a love of rock music, motorcycles—and they shared a son, while she and Mason hadn’t been able to agree on something as fundamental as having children.

“Melanie hasn’t mentioned Sara or her singing career for a while,” she said, trying to explain the question to herself as well as him.

Mason shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes dark. “Sara’s doing fine—”

“Hello, there,” Tank Tweedsdale said, giving Mason a friendly smile as he cruised into the room. “We’ll just be a couple of minutes, Mason…if you want to wait here. Lisa, if you’ll come with me.” He beckoned her into his office and closed the door behind her.

She sat in one of the chairs facing Tank’s desk, relieved that all this would soon be over.

Placing his briefcase beside his desk, he bent over and kissed Lisa on the cheek, his goatee brushing her skin. “How are you doing, dear?” he asked, his kindly gaze searching her face as he took his own seat.

“I’m okay.” She settled farther into her chair as Tank opened the file in front of him.

“Lisa,” he began slowly, “you’re aware that other than a couple of bequests to Duke University you’re the sole beneficiary in your mother’s will. I’ve filed all the documents necessary to finalize the estate. Your mother’s stockbroker will be calling you in the next couple of days to go over your financial situation. You won’t have any money worries.”

She’d always known that her mom and dad had been careful investors, but money was the last thing on her mind. She nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Tank cleared his throat as he took a sheet of paper out of the file. “And of course you’re aware that you’re adopted.”

Adopted? Why would Tank bring that up? He was the lawyer who’d arranged her adoption thirty years ago. She nodded again. “My birth parents died in a car accident.”

Tank stared at the green banker’s lamp on the corner of his desk before meeting her questioning gaze. “That’s not completely true,” he said, passing her the paper. She glanced at the page and recognized her mother’s precise handwriting.

My Darling Lisa,

I’ve loved you since the moment you were placed in my arms. I have something to confess, and I pray you can understand that we did it because we loved you. We thought it best not to tell you that Carolyn Lewis didn’t die in the car accident with your birth father, that she is still alive. A lawyer we know in Florida contacted us about a baby girl that needed a home. He said that because of the accident, your mother could no longer take care of you and had elected to put you up for adoption. After your dad passed away, I began to worry that you’d be left without any close family, and so I wanted to tell you about Carolyn Lewis.

But my biggest fear has always been that if I told you about your mother it would make you so upset that you’d never speak to me again. By the time you read this, it won’t matter.

I hope you can forgive what your father and I have done. We should’ve told you, let you have a life with your birth mother, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to share you with anyone. We loved you with all our hearts, and you were everything we ever wanted in a child.

I won’t dwell on our reasons, or why we did what we did, as it’s too late for regrets. Tank is prepared to help you find your birth mother. Trust him, darling—he’s a good man and a dear friend.

Love,

Mom

Shock and bewilderment made Lisa’s heart pound against her ribs. Her throat tightened, warding off the sting of tears. “I don’t understand. If my birth mother is still alive, why did they keep her from me? I had a right to know my mother, for heaven’s sake!”

“Lisa, I’m sorry you had to learn about it this way, but your parents wouldn’t take my advice to tell you themselves. They were very private people who lived for each other—and you.”

Feeling betrayed by the two people she’d loved most in the world, Lisa turned on Tank. “What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to find my birth mother? And what if I have brothers and sisters and never had the chance to meet them? I don’t get it. Why did Mom wait until now to tell me? I deserved better than that. I’ve been a good daughter. Everything they ever wanted me to do, I did—”

“Your mother agonized over this for months after she was diagnosed with cancer. Alice tried to tell you, but in the end, she couldn’t do it. Finally, she asked that funds be set aside to see that Carolyn Lewis was found. If that’s what you want…”

His words reminded her of all the times she’d imagined her birth parents and what they would’ve wanted for her, all the times she’d wished she could have met them.

And all the while, her mother had been alive.

“What I want? I want my family…my mother, anyone who can tell me who I am. My whole life I believed there was some terrible secret buried in my past.”

Was there a dark secret involving her birth parents? Had they been criminals? Were they fugitives when her father died in the car accident? Why had no one come looking for her?

If there wasn’t something to be ashamed of, why hadn’t her adoptive parents told her Carolyn Lewis was alive? Why had they let her grow up without knowing the truth?

She’d often attempted to ask her mom and dad about her past, but each time they gave the same answer. There was no reason for her to concern herself with that sort of thing. This was always followed by their usual argument—they’d waited so long for her, they’d loved her before they’d even set eyes on her.

The desire to please her parents and to avert her mother’s onslaught of tears at the mention of her birth parents had stopped Lisa from seeking answers. Their attitude had increasingly made her feel set apart, isolated in the midst of her parents’ love.

“I can’t explain their decision, Lisa, but I had to respect their wishes.”

“All my questions could have been answered so easily.”

“Yes, they probably could have, but the past can’t be changed,” Tank said gently.

Her voice thick with loss and longing for what might have been, she whispered, “So, my dad—my birth father—died in a car accident, right?”

Tank nodded. “Grant Lewis died in a collision, and your mother, Carolyn Lewis, is somewhere in Florida…we believe.”

“Does Carolyn—I mean, my mother—know where I live?”

Tank sat up straighter. “Your parents didn’t say. I arranged your adoption, but I don’t have much information beyond the fact that your mother was in Florida at that time. I’ve taken the liberty of hiring Mason to find your mother.”

“Mason?”

“Mason does my investigative work, and he’s completely reliable,” Tank said, a sheepish look in his clear blue eyes.

“Is Mason the right person to do this? He was a great cop, and I’m sure he’s a good P.I….” But she couldn’t care less about his credentials at the moment. She and Mason just didn’t fit together, as lovers or as friends.

“Lisa, Mason’s had a rough time with his old partner in the P.I. firm. He’s had to start at the bottom and rebuild the business. He’s worked hard.”

“Yes, I heard about Stewart taking off with company money.”

“Mason still has great contacts in the law-enforcement business. If you want to locate your mother as quickly as possible, he can do it for you. Trust me. I’ll see to it that your interests are protected.”

“You spoke to him before talking to me about this?” she asked, annoyed that she hadn’t been consulted first but remaining polite. Being polite and courteous was her mother’s legacy.

He nodded.

“I don’t want Mason involved in my personal business.” There were a dozen reasons she didn’t want Mason around, beginning with the fact that he already knew too much about her.

“Lisa, I realize that you and Mason had your difficulties, but he will be discreet.”

She sat there, the knowledge that her mother was still alive filtering through her mind, and suddenly felt hopeful, ready to take on her new circumstances.

If working with Mason meant finding her birth mother as quickly as possible, she was willing to ignore the past. Besides, Mason was a very capable investigator. Better the devil you know, she mused. “Are you sure Mason wants to do this?”

“Mason has agreed to start immediately, and the sooner the search is under way, the sooner you can meet your birth mother…. If you want to go ahead with it, that is.”

Regardless of past differences, Mason would respect her privacy. “What matters most is finding my mother.”

“Thatta girl,” Tank said, relief evident on his face as he went to the door.

“Come in, Mason.”

Mason walked to the chair next to Lisa and sat down, putting him within touching distance. But touching him was out of the question. She edged away.

She listened while Tank ran through the provisions of the will, including funds set aside for locating Carolyn Lewis. Yet it was as if they were talking about someone she had no real connection with—and she didn’t. Not yet.

But that was a situation she planned to resolve, with or without Mason’s help. Still, as she listened to Tank, she caught herself hoping that she and Mason would be able to work together. Mason had always been a man of his word, someone she could rely on. It was one of his best qualities, as far as her parents were concerned. And he’d made her feel safe, which had seemed so contradictory, given his pull-out-all the-stops attitude toward life.

Seeing the concentration on his face, the way he was so comfortable in his own skin, his powerful hands resting on the arms of the chair, she was aware of how easy it would be to rely on him once again.

“This would be a professional relationship, nothing more,” she told him after Tank had finished his explanation.

“What other kind of relationship is there?” he asked with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

Those words reminded her of other words, earlier words, spoken in another time and place, laced with anger and pain. “None that fits this particular situation,” she said, tucking her arms against her body.

And yet, what they’d shared had been so special, so much a part of her dreams. When she’d been with Mason, everything had seemed possible. She didn’t want to admit that she still felt tiny pinpricks of regret. Had they made a huge mistake in letting their relationship go?

No, Mason dared to dream big, take risks…and in the end, she couldn’t see herself in a world like that.

He leaned toward her, his gaze direct, uncompromising. “Lisa, you don’t have to worry. I will not let our past interfere with doing my job. You need my professional help, and you can depend on me to deliver.”

Trapped by his gaze, she fought to hide her sadness that somehow their relationship had gone so wrong, so quickly. “I appreciate that,” she said. “And I am counting on it.”

MASON’S GUT ACHED seeing Lisa sitting there, so close yet out of reach. It hurt to hear her voice, so soft and sure, a voice that had once been a beacon of stability for him.

The blue of her eyes drew him into her space with the promise of how much she cared for those she loved—and a few years ago he’d been one of those lucky people.

Meeting her eyes, he reminded himself how different they were in their approach to life. How those differences had meant the end of their relationship.

She wanted certainty and being able to rely on a future bright with contented sameness. She didn’t seem to have the capacity to cope with change. And nothing he’d said had altered her position.

He could finally admit that as he sat next to her.

Lisa’s determination to maintain the status quo had been one thing, but it had been her refusal to consider having a family that had sounded the death knell for any future together.

He hadn’t understood her back then and he still didn’t. Lisa had every advantage in life, while he’d worked for everything he had. Yet she was afraid to take a chance on life, on him or anything outside her predictable world.

Meanwhile, he’d found a comfortable level of enjoyment, if not outright happiness, in his life after Lisa, even after his failed marriage. Despite the changes in his life, he’d often thought of her, if she’d found her own happiness without him.

But watching Lisa now forced him to admit how lonely she was, how much of an emotional blow learning about her birth mother had been. He’d been well aware of how deeply she’d yearned to know her birth parents, to be part of a family she could call her own, not those stiff-necked relatives on her mother’s side.

When Tank had initially filled him in on the case, Mason had believed that Alice and Jim Clarke’s actions were cruel, especially considering that they’d known better than anyone how lonely Lisa had been all these years.

Given the complication of his and Lisa’s past and its potential influence on the case, he had wanted to turn down the job, but the sad truth was that he needed the money to get his business on a sound financial footing. He would hardly be seen as anybody’s hero by including his financial welfare as part of his reason for taking Lisa’s case. But he had to get his finances straightened out if he was going to be able to provide for his son, Peter.

And the retainer from Lisa’s case would cover his agency’s expenses for at least a month—enough time to expand his client list.

In addition to the advantages a cash retainer gave his struggling agency, there was another issue, a much more fundamental one. If Lisa had to learn bad news about her birth mother, he owed it to her to be the one to tell her. She probably wouldn’t agree that he was the best person to do it, but seeing her brought forward feelings he’d never admitted to anyone. Not even to himself. When they were together, he’d wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she could trust. He’d blown it then, but now he had the chance to make it up to her.

Before he’d walked in here today he’d convinced himself he could handle this job. Sitting there now, seeing her obvious distress, made him a little less sure.

“Lisa, I won’t take the case if it makes you uncomfortable.”

She started to say something, then caught herself. “I want you to find my mother,” she said, determination flowing through every word.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” he responded, seeing how tightly she gripped the arms of the chair. At least she wasn’t doing her best to ignore him the way she had the few times they’d met over the past five years.

Lisa had been a dutiful, loving daughter to her parents, the same parents who’d let her down. Lisa’s dedication to them was one of the reasons he’d been attracted to her in the beginning. Lisa had never failed to organize birthday parties for her mom and dad. She’d once told him that one of her reasons for becoming a nurse was to be there for them when they needed nursing care.

Although Lisa seemed to be accepting the loss of her mother quite well, Mason knew that deep down she had to be hurting. Easing her pain was another justification for doing what he could to help her.

“Thank you,” she said.

Seeing the apprehension on her face, he ached to take her into his arms. But what would be the point? He didn’t need the grief of revisiting an old relationship and all the mistakes lurking there. With Lisa, he’d made the kind of mistakes that couldn’t be undone.

“Great. Now that Mason’s on board, we’re all set,” Tank said. “Lisa, I’ll keep you informed of Mason’s progress on the case.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing left to do?” Lisa asked in a calm voice.

“Only to wait for Mason’s report,” Tank said, turning his attention to Mason.

Taking that as his cue to get on with the job, Mason stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

He’d almost made it to the door when he heard her.

“Mason, I need to speak to you.”

Tank gave a nervous chuckle. “Then I’ll leave you two young people alone.” Tank was up and out the door before either of them could respond.

Lisa came toward Mason, her back straight. She was, as usual, immaculately groomed. Not a strand of her highlighted blond hair had escaped from her ponytail. Her pearl earrings matched her pearl-drop necklace. Her short black skirt showed off her legs as she moved.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to ignore the memory of how right she felt in his arms, how the perfume she always wore made his blood run hot.

“When you locate my mother, I expect you to call me immediately. I want to see her as soon as I can.”

Hope shone from her eyes, but Mason had worked in missing persons and knew the devastation hope could cause when the search turned sour.

“I understand how you feel, but have you considered that this might not be a positive experience? Maybe your parents didn’t tell you about your birth mother for a good reason.”

Shock darkened her eyes. She lifted her chin. “I don’t care what the reasons are. If she’s alive, I’m going to meet her.”

He saw the purposeful set to her jaw, but pressed on, anyway. “Lisa, sometimes there are things we’re better off not uncovering.”

“Not in this case. If I’d been told about my mother, I would’ve found her years ago.” She worked her fingers through the strap of her black leather bag, her eyes holding his. “My mother deserves to know who I am, what I’ve become. That I turned out just fine…without her.”

Her voice dropped to an emphatic whisper. “I need to meet her.”

He recognized something in her eyes he’d only seen when they’d talked about his chaotic life growing up in a family of six kids.

Naked longing.

“You’re hoping you have a sister or a brother.”

A whimper of protest slipped past her lips, and her eyes widened. “Please find my mother as soon as possible.”

It wasn’t as if he was flush with cases. And with that look in her eyes, it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. “I’ll make this my priority.”

He saw her reach for him, then pull back. He understood that her reaching out was an act of relief rather than any caring for him. But he’d taken away her reason to care with his impulsive behavior. He’d do what he could to support her through this. He owed her that much.

The breakup had been his fault because in his shock and anger at her insistence that she didn’t want children he’d said some pretty nasty things about her selfishness, her stubbornness and the cold heart she had to have not to want to share her life with a child. He’d regretted his words afterward, but it was too late to take them back. He could never heal the hurt he’d seen in her eyes, and he’d never been able to erase that look from his mind. “Here’s my business card and cell number. Call me anytime.”

“Thank you,” she said, and for the first time since he’d entered the room a smile raised the corners of her mouth.

As she turned to leave, Mason wished they could somehow connect, despite everything that had gone wrong between them. He needed her appreciation, her respect, as much now as he had back then.

Back when they’d loved each other, he had believed she could change—that loving Lisa the way he had would give her the courage to take a chance on their love, their future together.

He’d learned the hard way that Lisa Clarke wouldn’t risk her emotionally safe way of life, regardless of what was at stake.