Title: Bittersweet Returns
Author: Lisa
Pairing: Harm/Mac friendship and maybe a little bit more.

Rating: GS

Author: ???

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for fun.

Word count: 7,000

Prompt: "What if Chris never went to prison but instead ran away with their (His and Mac’s) child. This caused Mac to turn to the bottle and that’s when her uncle came to rescue her. All the rest stays the same except her motivation for becoming a lawyer was so that she could learn more about her legal rights if she finds Chris. Chris reappears as he did in the show demanding money with promises that if she pays him, he will allow her to see the child. As in the show she doesn’t have enough money." (Prompt submitted by Corporal Punishment)

Spoilers: Any episode that deals with Mac’s past (up through People vs. Mac)

Author’s Note: This story drastically departs from canon, including some of the “facts” we know about Mac. (But that’s the beauty of fanfic – rewriting history!) Not all details are explained in the story; that wasn’t my intent. So please overlook anything that may seem a bit unrealistic to you. I chose this prompt because I always hated what TPTB did to Mac’s character in People vs. Mac. However, I couldn’t quite fit in all the details from the prompt with the story that was in my head, although I think this fulfills the gist of the prompt. (My apologies to “Corporal Punishment” for the liberty I took with your idea.) Thanks for reading!


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Bittersweet Returns


The day had started like any other. It’s strange how an ordinary day can suddenly turn tumultuous within a blink of an eye. That’s how it had been the day he disappeared from her life. Seemingly nothing to distinguish it as it dawned. A part of her died that day only to be resurrected twelve years later.

He had shown up today. Out of the blue. After all these years and after all the prayers and tears and searching. She had walked into her office and there he was. The sight of him ignited the little spark of hope she had long carried that time and despair had done their best to extinguish. Not hope at being reunited with the man whom she had once married, but hope for what only he could give. He held the key to her ever being able to find peace.

At seventeen she had run away from one man whose warped version of love had left her soul battered and bruised, only to end up in the arms of another who would ultimately inflict the greatest wounds of all.

The months after graduation did not include the typical exploits that teenage girls find to wile away their summers - hanging out at the mall, getting ready for college, working a summer job. Instead she was found on the back of a Harley riding wild and free across the plains of Texas. And as she embraced the hot wind and soaked up the burning rays of the sun, her scarred heart, ignorant of authentic love, desperately soaked up a phony version of what passed for love, embracing the idea that someone wanted her, that maybe she was worth something after all.

She had left with him at the beginning of summer unencumbered and carefree only to return two months later a married woman. A frivolous, rash decision made in a drunken haze. A decision she would soon regret. But he had wooed her with words of love and promises of security. Two things she had rarely experienced.

He casually greeted her as if it hadn’t been 12 years since she had last seen him. As if he hadn’t ripped out her heart with what he’d taken from her.

“Hello, Sarah.”

She stood frozen in the doorway. Stunned, as his name escaped her lips. “Chris.”

His eyes traveled over her body in a possessive leer. “Well, sweetheart, last time I saw you your hair was a foot longer and your skirt a foot shorter. And now look at you – a Marine major.”

Recovering from the shock, Mac ignored his comments and derisive tone and leapt to the question that had haunted her for 12 years, pleading for an answer. “Where is she, Chris?” With irrational hope she asked, “Do you have her with you? Is she here?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play games with me, Chris. Where is Sami? What did you do with her?”

Moving close, he left her desperate question unanswered. “Is that how you greet your husband? After all, you haven’t seen me in 12 years.” He reached for her, but she turned away from his kiss.

At one time he might have intimidated her. When she was 17 she fell for his good looks and charm. He was older, more experienced and she had followed where he led. She had learned to stand up to him, but it had cost her everything. And although she sometimes tried to resurface, that insecure girl he once knew was buried long ago. He’d be mistaken if he thought she could be manipulated or controlled by him again.

She resisted the urge to slap his face, but pulled away from his grasp.

“Still think you’re too good for me, Sarah? But I was good enough to get you away from your drunken daddy, wasn’t I?”

Ignoring the jab, she demanded, “Tell me, Chris. You owe me that.”

He met her gaze, but shame made him look away. He recognized the strength and determination in her eyes - two traits he didn’t possess. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, Sarah, but first I want something from you.”

“I guess it’s too much to hope that you might have changed. What do you want, Chris? I’ll give you anything.”

“Not here. I’ll meet you at your apartment tonight.”

As he brushed past her, Mac grabbed his arm. “No, you’re not leaving until you tell me.”

“You can’t stop me, Sarah.”

“Don’t bet on that. And if I can’t, the law can. I’m sure you’re wanted in at least a half dozen states.”

His voice turned menacing. “Don’t threaten me. I can hurt you in so many ways, Sarah.”

“You’ve already done that, Chris.”

Looking into her pain-filled eyes, his deadened conscience felt a dull prick. “Later, Sarah. I’ll see you later.”

Mac resisted the urge to race after him, take him down, and choke the answers out of him. But while he was a cheat and a liar, she knew that this time he was telling the truth. If she didn’t play things his way, she may never find what she’d been searching for since the last time he had disappeared.


Staring at the pieces of wood that littered her living room floor, the splintered doorframe of her apartment seemed somehow symbolic of her battered heart. Broken and jagged and seemingly beyond repair. He had shown up that evening – followed soon after by a couple of thugs. One broke through her door and she repaid him by breaking his nose. The goons were now gone and so was her husband. A leopard doesn’t change its spots and Chris Ragle would always be a thief and a con man. The motive of his return had been revealed. A need of $20,000 to repay a loan shark. $20,000 in exchange for the whereabouts of their daughter.

That broken door would definitely need reinforcement and so did she. She instinctively turned to the one source of strength she knew she could depend on. She knocked on his door, anticipating his welcoming smile and comforting arms. Instead she found herself being greeting by Congresswoman Bobbi Latham. Taking in the intimate setting, the defenses she had long ago perfected kept her from showing any sign of distress or disappointment. If she had examined her heart, she wouldn’t know which was the greatest hurt – that the Congresswoman’s presence in Harm’s apartment meant he wouldn’t be able to help her or that Bobbi’s presence in Harm’s life meant that he might never be her’s.

She left with her pride intact, but not her heart. She was used to handling things on her own, and this would be no different, but she didn’t have the kind of money she needed. She knew of someone else that she could go to for help. He, too, had been a source of strength for her, but in a different way than Harm. He had been tender and caring and supportive. Their relationship had been a balm for a wounded heart, but you can’t build a future on fondness and gratitude.


He sat in his office brooding about Mac. There was something wrong and she wasn’t letting him in. He knew it was his own damn fault. She had come to his door last night and he had brushed her off. And then this morning when she was on the verge of confiding in him he was interrupted with a call from Bobbi. He could virtually see Mac throwing up walls as she left him to take the call.

He knew what impression Mac would receive from Bobbi’s presence last night. And at the time part of him was a bit relieved. The cowardly part. The part that thought it was easier to settle for that which had little lasting significance instead of taking a chance on something that had the potential for ultimate happiness or for ultimate loss. He had deflected Bobbi’s probing questions about Mac, but it didn’t keep him from asking himself the same questions. The feelings he had for Mac scared him. Somehow he knew that a relationship with Mac would be the most important one of his life - too important to mess up as he always had before. There was something intense and powerful and rare between them. Something to be explored in the future, when he was ready to let go. He thrived on risk-taking, but when it came to Mac he turned into a chicken. So afraid of the consequences if he tried for something more and failed, he settled for friendship when he secretly wanted so much more. He may have convinced Bobbi and Brumby that he saw Mac as a friend and not as a woman, but he knew if he were honest, he’d never convince himself of that.

Well, if nothing else, she was his friend and it was time to find out what was bothering his Marine. Striding over to Mac’s office, he prepared to knock only to have Mac bounce off his chest as she strode through the door. Harm gladly used the contact as a reason to grasp her waist to steady them both. “Whoa, Mac, where’s the fire?”

“Sorry, Harm. I guess I have my mind on other things and wasn’t paying attention.”

He reluctantly let go of her, but continued to block her exit. “You’ve had other things on your mind for a couple of days now. I know something is wrong and I want to help. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you earlier, but I’m here now – so talk to me.”

“Harm, I appreciate the offer, but everything’s under control. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I was just on my way out.”

He recognized the diversionary tactic of denial and dismissal. It was classic Mac. She was a master at hiding her pain and troubles behind that tough, independent Marine façade. “Sorry, Mac. But you forget how well I know you. You’re hiding something from me. Your lip is doing that funny thing again. What’s going on, Marine?”

Mac brushed off his question as she tried to move past him. “Now I’m the one that doesn’t have time, Harm. Sorry, but I need to get to Quantico.”

“Why are you going to Quantico? We don’t have a case that would take you there.”

“Uh, it’s personal business. Now if you’ll excuse me?”

He reluctantly stepped aside. Personal. There was one person he knew of that she would be going to see at Quantico. Once before Harm felt as if he had let her down when she needed him. That time she had turned to a bottle. This time she had turned to John Farrow.

Harm had a grudging respect for the Marine officer - professionally. Personally, the thought of John Farrow made his stomach churn. He knew there must have been something between Mac and Farrow. He could see it the first time he met him, when he and Mac were investigating the Haitian rebel attack. The way Farrow had looked at her, and taken her hand, and said her name. As if his knowledge of Mac was far more than professional. As if he was intimately acquainted with one Sarah MacKenzie. He told himself that he just didn’t like the thought of Mac being swayed or taken advantage of by a senior officer, but he knew that would be another lie. He was simply jealous of anyone who had been lucky enough to be loved by Sarah MacKenzie.

The day had started like any other. It’s strange how an ordinary day can suddenly turn tumultuous within a blink of an eye. The day had nothing to distinguish it - other than his morose musings about Mac and concern for what was troubling her. He never expected the day to end with Mac calling from a police station. "Harm, I need your help."

Once she had come to a police department in the middle of the night for him. But this time there wasn’t a pregnant stripper or a strip club brawl. This time there was a dead husband he never knew she had. He looked over at Mac who sat in his passenger seat. She had a haunted expression on her face as she stared out the side window. He had only gotten the bare minimum of an explanation at the station. A long lost husband had come back into her life wanting money. She had shown up at his hotel; an argument had led to him pulling out a gun, threatening her. She had struggled with him for the weapon and he was accidentally killed. There would be an investigation, but her story had been corroborated by the hotel manager who had overheard the argument from the hall and had seen the shooting through the partially opened door. Harm doubted there would be any charges.

He shot another concerned glance at Mac’s profile. He could tell she was reeling, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to grief from the death of this mysterious husband or trauma from the shooting or something else entirely. Mac married? Harm had a million questions ricocheting in his head, but she wasn’t volunteering much information.

Entering her apartment he had a sense of deja vu as he offered to make tea. Returning from the kitchen, he found her curled up on the sofa, her legs drawn up to her chest. He placed a cup of tea in her hands and tucked an afghan around her. Sitting next to her on the couch he tentatively questioned, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She briefly met his concerned gaze. "Not particularly. But I guess I owe you an explanation."

Harm reached out to tenderly stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Mac, you don’t owe me anything, but I’m here for you if you want to talk. Although, I must say I do have a few questions about your..." He hesitated. The word ‘husband’ stuck in his throat.

"What? My husband? That must be quite a shock to you."

He bumped his shoulder against her’s and tried for a little lightness. "Hey, you’ve always been a surprise to me, Mac."

Mac smiled weakly. "I think I probably have a few more surprises for you, Harm." Staring into space, she continued. "I married Chris when I was 18 ...”

She looked so anguished and fragile. All he wanted was to take her pain away. "Mac, you don’t have to tell me now. Maybe you should try to get some sleep."

She interrupted, "No, Harm, I want to get this out. I want you to know it all.” Her eyes turned distant. “I couldn’t wait to get away from my father - and Chris was my ticket out. I left home when I was 17 and ran off with Chris that summer after graduation. I stupidly fell for his good looks and charm. He was so wild - but then so was I – and that just attracted me even more. We spent the summer drinking and riding his Harley across Texas.”

Harm thought how different his teenage years were compared to Mac’s. He had had his own pain and turmoil and had done his own running away at sixteen, but under completely different circumstances. “But why did you marry him, Mac? You were just a kid!”

Mac sighed. “I guess because he wanted me. My mother obviously didn’t want me – not enough to take me with her when she left. My father didn’t want his so-called ‘stupid, tramp daughter’. But with Chris I was wanted. I thought Chris Ragle was the best thing that ever happened to me, but he ended up hurting me more than both of my parents combined.”

Harm pictured Mac as a teenager – strong and defiant on the outside, insecure and vulnerable on the inside. Not so different from the Mac who sat next to him now. “So what happened?”

“We got married on a whim. I wasn’t even sober at the time. It certainly was no fairy tale wedding. And it sure didn’t have the significance to me that it should have. We were both such a mess. Chris’ idea of providing for us was petty theft and running cons. Eventually the law caught up with him and he was arrested and sentenced to eighteen months to two years.”

“What did you do then?”

“I had no where to go and ended up back home. I wouldn’t go crawling back to my father so I moved in with a friend.”

Remembering Mac telling him about ‘the closest thing she had to a friend’, he guessed, “Eddie?”

A shadow passed over Mac’s face. “Yeah. If I hadn’t turned to him, he’d still be alive. A couple of days later we went out drinking. I was drowning my sorrows over Chris. That’s when we were in the car accident and Eddie was killed.”

“Mac, Eddie made his own choice to drink and drive. You need to stop blaming yourself.”

“My head knows that, Harm, but not my heart.”

Hoping to get her mind from her feelings of false guilt, he asked, “And that’s when your Uncle took you to Red Rock Mesa, right?”

She nodded. “He not only helped me dry out, he helped me see that I could make something of my life. He gave me the determination to rise above my past and convinced me to enroll in college. Although, I did have another challenge to face first.”

“Chris?”

“Not exactly. I told you earlier that I had a few more surprises for you, Harm. This one will be as much of a shock to you as it was to me at the time. Days after I came back from Red Rock, I found out I was 8 weeks pregnant.”

Harm thought he knew what it meant to be stunned when he learned about her marriage, but that was nothing compared to this. “Pregnant? Whoa, Mac. That’s uh, well, you’re right, that’s quite a surprise. But what happened to the baby?” He swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of the choice she might have made as a troubled teen. “Or did you…uh.”

Adamantly, she denied his inference. “No! No, I would never. When I discovered I was pregnant I was scared and overwhelmed, but mostly I felt this amazing joy! There was this little life growing inside me, dependent upon me. I was only 18, my baby’s father was in prison, I had no job or prospects, but I was determined to protect her. I wanted her to have a life filled with the love and security that I didn’t have.”

“Her? So you had the baby?”

She smiled at the bittersweet memory. “Yes. Uncle Matt was so supportive through it all. I did start taking college classes, got a part time job, and stayed sober. My worst fear was that my drinking in the first couple of weeks of my pregnancy had hurt the baby, but I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy little girl when I was still 18. It was the happiest day of my life. I named her Sameen, which means ‘precious’ in Farsi, and called her Sami. Harm, when she was placed in my arms, I felt this incredible love! It was a feeling I never knew existed.”

Although it was driving him crazy, Harm resisted the urge to ask where her child was now and let Mac tell the story at her own pace.

Fingering the chain around her neck, she pulled up a locket from between her breasts. Opening the heart pendant, she showed Harm. “Here’s a picture of Sami.”

Harm smiled at the tiny image of a beautiful baby girl. She looked so much like Mac – just like he imagined his daughter would one day look. “She’s beautiful, Mac. And I take it this other picture must be you - with very long hair.”

Mac actually laughed. “Yes. That’s me as a teenager. Uncle Matt gave Sami and I mother/daughter lockets on her first birthday – even though she was too little to wear hers. He had them engraved with our names on the back.” Mac’s voice broke as her eyes flooded with tears. “She was so precious, just like her name means.”

“Was? Mac, what happened to your baby?”

The tears that brimmed her eyes fell in a steady stream as her body shook with sobs. Damn, he always felt so helpless when Mac cried. Harm pulled her into his arms, trying to bring comfort. He hated seeing her in pain.

As the sobs subsided, Mac pulled back from the security of Harm’s embrace and continued. “Shortly before Sami’s first birthday, Chris got out of prison. My life was finally on the right track. I wasn’t the same person that had married Chris, but he hadn’t changed. He was still drinking and within weeks was back to running cons. He resented the fact that I was going to school and trying to make something of my life. He wanted back in my life and he got angry when I wouldn’t take him back unless he cleaned up his act. I think he felt threatened by the fact that I stood up to him and he resented that I had moved on without him. He wanted to hurt me. And he did in the worst way. The day after Sami’s first birthday, he kidnapped her and I haven’t seen her since.”

“My God, Mac! I can’t imagine – what you’ve been through! You never found out what happened to her?”

“No. The authorities searched and never found any trace of Chris. Uncle Matt did all he could to help. We searched and hired private investigators, but he had just disappeared. I eventually had to move forward. I finished college, joined the Marines, but I’ve never stopped searching. It’s also one reason why I became a lawyer when the Marine Corp gave me the opportunity, I thought knowing the law might help me. Every spare dime I have still goes to hire investigators and I pray every day that he’ll turn up with her. And yesterday he did, but not with Sami. The son of a bitch acted like nothing had changed between us.” Mac hesitated and glanced at Harm. “I'm sure you’re also wondering why I never got a divorce.”

“Well, the thought had crossed my mind.”

“I think I never filed because I knew that I had once had a hold on Chris and I hoped that by staying married to him I could use that for leverage if he ever came back. And I know it’s not rational, but somehow I felt that if I ended the marriage I was also ending all hope of finding Sami – by hanging onto that tie to Chris, it would somehow lead me to her.”

“So tonight, did he tell you anything?”

“When he pulled the gun on me, and we struggled, he was shot before he told me what happened to her. He lay dying before my eyes and I knew my chance of ever finding Sami was dying with him. I pleaded with him to tell me where she was. All he got out before he died was the name Richard Atchinson and said he was an attorney in San Diego.”

“Well, Mac, that’s something to go on! First thing tomorrow we’ll get started searching.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. Batman and Robin, remember?”

“Harm, it’s a million to one chance of finding her after all these years.”

He took her hand, caressing the soft skin with his thumb. “Well, as a wise person once told me, someone always wins the lottery, don’t they? You were there for me through the search for my father and I want to do the same for you. You know, now I understand why you were so supportive - you knew what it was like to lose the most important person in your life and never know what happened.”

“I guess we both know what that’s like.”

She looked into intense blue-green eyes and saw a determination greater than she had ever seen in him before. “I’ll do all I can to help you find your daughter, Mac.”

Her eyes welled with tears once again. “Thanks, Harm. I think I’m going to need you to lean on.”

“I’m here for you, Mac. I’ll always be here. But right now, you should get some sleep. It’s been a hell of a night. You go to bed and if it’s okay with you, I think I’ll just crash on your couch.”

“Harm you really don’t need to stay…” Mac hesitated. She hated to show her vulnerability, but she really didn’t want to be alone.

“I’m staying, Mac. That’s final.”

“Well in that case, I’ll take the couch, you’ll never fit.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

She smiled. “Well, we could always share.”

Harm grinned as a memory of Mac flooded his mind. “Does that mean I have to pay double? And by the way, you never did tell me what you said to that Russian hotel clerk.”

“You’ll never know, either. Now come on.”

As he followed her into the bedroom he couldn’t resist asking, “Will you be wearing that same nightgown, Mac?”

“Cute, Harm. Only in your dreams, sailor.”

She didn’t know how true that statement was. How she often invaded his dreams. But this night he was able to actually hold Sarah MacKenzie in his arms. There were a few awkward moments as they settled down together in her bed, but when he opened his arms to her, she willingly came. She looked so vulnerable and fragile as she sought comfort in his embrace. She had carried this burden alone for too many years. It was time she borrowed some strength from him.

As she nestled against him, he was amazed at how quickly she fell asleep. For him, on the other hand, sleep was a long time coming. The feel of her in his arms had every nerve ending buzzing. He decided he might be thankful for the constraining fabric of his jeans before the night was over. His mind whirled with what he had learned about Sarah MacKenzie that night. He knew it was selfish to think about his own dreams, but he somehow felt as if he had lost something himself, as well. He could admit to himself as he held her that he had always believed he and Mac would someday end up together. And that didn’t have to change, but he wanted to be the first man that she would promise to love and to cherish. He didn’t want there to be a shadow of a previous husband. He gently placed his hand on her stomach and imagined her pregnant. He wished he had been the one to make her that way the first time. That they could have experienced all those ‘firsts’ together – feeling the flutters of a new life growing in her womb, holding her as she delivered their child into this world, watching as she nursed their son or daughter at her breast. It still could happen – it just wouldn’t be the first for her. He shook himself out of his self-pity. Mac was all that mattered right now – supporting her and finding her daughter. He pulled her even closer and drifted off to sleep.

She sat on a plane heading west, waiting for boarding to be completed. The last few days had been a roller coaster of emotions. True to his word Harm had done all he could, and then some, to help find her daughter. It was quite evident that Harm had a new obsession. As always when seeking the truth Harm was tenacious. He had found Richard Atchinson - doing time for fraud and tax evasion. A dirty lawyer who also had arranged illegal adoptions.

When Harm had told Mac what he had found – that her baby had been sold by her own father like a piece of merchandise – Mac had literally become sick. She could only hope that the adoptive parents weren’t as depraved. As Mac sat in her cramped seat, she stared at the slip of paper that held their name and address. Daniel and Mary Woodhams, San Diego – the names of strangers – strangers who were raising her daughter.

Soon she would have answers and would do all she could to get her daughter back. Harm had wanted to come with her, but she had insisted he stay in DC. He was prosecuting a huge case and she knew he couldn’t get away. And she couldn’t wait another day.

A question interrupted her musings. "Is this seat taken?"

She couldn’t help but smile as she looked up at the familiar sound of his voice. "Harm, what are you doing here?"

"It should be obvious, Mac. I’m going with you."

"What about the Lowery case?"

"Mattoni’s got it covered."

"Harm, this may just be a dead end. I don’t know what I’ll find."

"All the more reason for me to come. I speak the language, I can handle myself if things get rough, and you need someone to watch your six – which I will do with great pleasure."

Mac rolled her eyes at his innuendo, but couldn’t help but smile as he flirtatiously cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Ignoring the latter comment, she questioned, "You speak the language? Last time I checked English was still the official language of California."

"Mac, remember I’m a native Californian. They speak an entirely different language on the left coast. You may need me to interpret. Now, I think you’re on my seatbelt. Oh look, we’re moving!"

Mac shook her head and grinned as he continued to parrot her own words back to her. Mostly she was smiling because he was with her. No matter what she found, she was thankful that he would be by her side.

They sat in a rented car along a shaded street outside of a house that right now could be sheltering the daughter whom Mac had searched for her entire adult life. Now that the time came for answers, she found herself needing to work up the nerve to go to the door. When they discovered the information about the adoption, Harm had suggested getting a family law attorney and going straight to the authorities. But she needed to know that this couple had her daughter first – that it wasn’t just another wild goose chase.

She and Harm had watched as a girl who looked to be about thirteen left the house, jumped on a bike left lying in the yard, and peddled off down the street. A girl with long, dark hair and eyes the color of rich chocolate. "Mac, look at her! That’s exactly how I always pictured our, uh, …I mean, how you must have looked at that age. She looks just like you!"

Mac’s heart beat in double time as she hardly dared hope that this was Sami. “Harm, I’m going to go to the door. But this is something I need to do by myself. Do you mind waiting here?”

“Mac, do you really think that’s a wise idea?”

“Maybe not, but I have to. I can’t wait for answers.”

As the front door opened to her knock, the woman on the other side blanched at the sight of Mac.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m…”

“Sarah. You’re Sarah.”

Taken aback, Mac asked, “How do you know my name?”

“I only know your first name. It’s on the back of my daughter’s locket – there’s a picture in it - of you. Except, we were told you were dead!”

Mac was stunned. Meeting the gaze of the equally stunned woman who referred to Mac’s daughter as her own, she demanded, “I think you owe me an explanation.”

Mac didn’t know what to think as she listened to the story of another woman victimized by Chris Ragle. She heard of a childless couple seeking a baby to love. How they were overjoyed when their attorney told them of a supposedly widowed father who decided he couldn’t care for his “motherless” little girl. How in their eagerness and naiveté they had given him money to help him out. And how just days before the adoption was finalized, Chris demanded more money or he would rescind the adoption agreement. She was told how the couple had called his bluff and threatened to call the police. How he had taken off and they kept quiet and let the adoption proceed of the baby they already loved so much. She heard of the nagging guilt that perhaps they should have gone to the authorities. And she heard about her daughter! She heard of her life, her interests, her personality, and abilities.

For once, Mac had no idea how much time had passed when suddenly the front door flew open and the object of their conversation burst into the room. “Hey, Mom, I’ve got to tell you about…”

Two women turned at the greeting. “Oh, sorry mom, I didn’t know you had company.” The girl greeted the visitor. “Hi. I’m Sam.”

For a brief moment, Mac couldn’t speak, as she fought to keep tears from falling at the sight of her daughter. Blinking away the wetness, she found her voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam. My friends call me Mac. I’m, uh, a friend of your mother’s.”

“Hey, we both have nicknames. My name really isn’t Sam. It’s actually Sameen.”

“What a beautiful name – and very unique.”

Sam continued to ramble on a mile a minute in true teenage fashion. “Do you want to know how I got that name? See, I’m adopted and my parents were told my name was Samantha, but when they got me, there was this locket in a pocket of my diaper bag and it had a picture of me in it, and my birth mom who died. On the back was her first name and the word ‘Sameen’. My parents found out that ‘Sameen’ is a Farsi name - that’s a Mid-Eastern language, in case you didn’t know – and that it means ‘precious’. We think my birth mom must have spoken Farsi and that’s what she called me. My parents decided that they would change my name to Sameen. My dad said my birth mom must have loved me a lot since she called me ‘precious’.”

This time Mac couldn’t stop a tear from falling and whispered, “I’m sure she loved you – very much.”

Harm was getting extremely restless. Mac had been inside for hours. He could hardly keep himself in the car when he saw the girl he believed was Mac’s daughter return and enter the house. Not too long later, Mac returned. The questions began as soon as she opened the car door. “How did it go? Is she your daughter, Mac? What happened?”

Mac heaved a sigh and fought to keep the tears at bay and also keep from throwing herself into his arms. “Slow down, Harm. Yes, she’s my daughter. That’s Sami.”

“That’s fantastic, Mac! While you were inside, I hope you don’t mind, I set up an appointment with a friend of Frank’s who’s a family law expert. He can tell you what steps you need to take to get your daughter back. Does she know that you’re her mom?”

“No, she doesn’t know and I’m not going to tell her.”

“What?”

Her voice was pain-filled, yet she spoke with determination. “I’m not going to try to get her back.”

“Mac! Why the hell not? She’s the daughter you’ve spent 12 years searching for! You’re her mom.”

This time the tears wouldn’t stop. “No, Harm. I may be her mother, but I’m not her mom. Mary Woodhams is her mom.”

“That’s only because you haven’t had a chance to be! Mac, you can’t let her go!”

“I have to. She has love and security and an incredible life. All the things I wanted for her. Think of the turmoil and pain it would cause her if I tried to tear her away from all that! I’m a stranger to her, Harm.”

“Mac, do you know what you’re saying? Are you sure you can walk away?”

“Hey, my mother did it to me. Maybe I don’t love my daughter enough, just like me mother didn’t love me. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Harm took hold of Mac’s shoulders and forced her to look at him. “You are nothing like your mother, Sarah MacKenzie. She was weak and selfish. She left you, knowing it would hurt you. What you are thinking of doing is the most unselfish act of love I have ever seen. You’re ripping out your own heart to protect your daughter from possibly being hurt. That is a real mother, Sarah.”

Harm pulled her into his arms as her body was wracked with sobs. He held her close, stroking her hair, running his hands up and down her back, until the sobs subsided. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, Mac. But I think you should give this decision some more thought.”

He felt so helpless. It had been hours since they returned to the hotel and Mac had simply shut down. He now stood outside the bathroom door listening to her great heaving sobs, only partially obscured by the sounds of the shower. He slid to the floor, leaning back against the door, wishing he could comfort her. But this was a grief no one could carry for her.

Finally the door opened and he quickly stood before she fell over him. Before either could speak, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Harm opened it and smiled into a pair of very familiar eyes. “Mac, there’s someone here to see you.” Turning to the three he offered, “Please, come in.”

Mac’s own eyes widened in surprise as Sam and the Woodhams entered. Seeing the girl just feet away from Mac, there was no doubt that they were mother and daughter, Harm thought. The resemblance was indeed profound. Introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged before an awkward silence settled, no one knowing quite what to say first.

Sam seemed the least uncomfortable and jumped in. “My mom told me who you are – that you’re my birth mom.”

Mary interrupted, “Actually she figured it out herself. After you left, she said you reminded her of the picture in her locket and asked if you were related to her. We’ve never lied to her, and we’re not going to start now.”

Sam continued, “My mom told me that I was taken from you – that you’ve been searching for me since I was a baby.”

Mac swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, I have. I never stopped loving you or hoping I would find you.” Mac pulled out her own locket and showed Sam. “See, we have matching lockets and you have always been next to my heart.”

Staring at an older version of herself, Sam exclaimed, “This is so weird! I’ve always wondered about my birth mom and here you are. But I don’t know what to call you.”

She smiled, “Just call me Mac.”

“My mom also said that even though you want me back, you told her that you think it would be best for me if I stay with them. She said that shows how much you love me.”

Mac didn’t know what to say, but glanced at Mary – both mothers with tears in their eyes.

Sam continued, “But I have so many questions about you and where I came from and I don’t want to lose you again! You’re my mom, too, and I want to get to know you.”

“I’d like that, Sam, very much.”

“Mom and Dad said you live in Washington and that we could go visit. And we could email and talk on the phone! And maybe you could come to my birthday, it ‘s in…”

“April.” Mac smiled tenderly, “April 26.”

“Oh yeah, I guess you would know that! You know, I think it’s going to be so cool to have two moms!”

“Sam, nothing would make me happier than to be a part of your life.” Turing once again to Mary, Mac asked just one thing. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s the right thing and it’s what Sam wants. We know we’re taking a risk - that we could lose her - but we could lose her too, if we keep her from you. She should know you – she wants to know you. We love her too much to deny her that connection.”

Mac was overwhelmed. “I don’t know what to say.”

Mary continued, “You don’t have to say anything. We’re family now. And we’re the ones who are grateful to you.”

Family. Mac liked the sound of that – four people bound together, not all by blood, but by love.

The next evening she and Harm walked along the beach - watching the sun set and talking about Mac’s daughter and the turn of events. Mac seemed somewhat subdued. “I missed so much of her life, Harm. I can never get that back.”

“I know, Mac. I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Hey, I know you can’t replace one person with another, but someday you’ll have another baby and you can experience all that you missed with Sam.”

Mac shook her head doubtfully. “I’m not so sure. My prospects aren’t that great right now.”

Harm reached into his pocket. “I have a present for you, Mac.” Taking her hand he placed the small object in her palm. Another locket - this one empty. “This is for the future. Consider it a promise of things to come.”

Mac’s startled eyes lifted to his. Was he implying what her heart hoped he was? She hardly dared believe, and warned him, “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

Harm smiled at the thought of fulfilling that promise. “I haven’t yet.”


The End