Serenity Harbor

by RaeAnne Thayne

  He crouched down to Milo’s level. As usual, his brother avoided looking straight at him, his attention focused exclusively on the dog.

  “Milo. Bud. Look at me.” His brother’s gaze danced to him for an instant, then quickly away. Bowie supposed he would have to be content with what he could get. “Listen to what Lizzie says. Got it? Nod if you understand me.”

  Milo nodded, though he didn’t stop petting the dog.

  “All right, kid,” Lizzie said. “Let’s do this. Here’s the leash. Hold on tight now. Got it?”

  Milo clung to the leash handle as if his life depended on it and trotted after the retriever with Lizzie bringing up the rear.

  Bowie watched them go, aware of the familiar tangle of his emotions. He was in so far over his head with Milo, all he could see above him was darkness and uncertainty. If this autism specialist didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what he would do. He hated the idea of putting Milo in some kind of facility somewhere—avoiding that had been the entire reason he had agreed to become his guardian—but he couldn’t completely rule out that might be the best option, down the road.

  He didn’t have to worry about that right now, though, when he had people waiting for him. He tried to shift focus from Milo-worry to work-worry, aware the next few weeks were crucial for several of the projects he was spearheading at Caine Tech.

  This conference call with one of their major vendors in Asia was vital. If they didn’t iron out some of the problems now, the ripple effect would completely screw their production schedule.

  Thanks to the chaos with Milo, it felt like weeks since he had been able to fully focus on work—not a good situation when he was only just finding his way with his team at the new Haven Point facility.

  He knew just whom to blame for this frustration. His mother.

  An image of Stella the last time he had seen her flashed across his mind. He had been fifteen, almost the same age she had been when she gave birth to him. A child raising a child. The problem was, he eventually grew up. His mother had not.

  Growing up with Stella had been tumultuous at best, a nightmare much of the time.

  Guilt dug under his skin at the thought. He didn’t hate his mother. He never had, even after he had escaped the chaos. Yeah, she had been flighty and irresponsible, self-absorbed, emotional and totally without willpower.

  Alcohol, drugs, men. She used all of them with regularity.

  Milo’s early years apparently hadn’t been much different from his own. The social worker who had contacted him about Milo had pieced together enough information on his brother’s history to reveal that Stella had never really changed her ways. At the time of her death, she had been destitute, living on the streets of Portland with Milo, begging at street corners and high most of the time. Why his brother hadn’t been taken away from her years ago seemed to be a mystery to everybody in the system.

  Bo slid into his office chair, catching a view out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the lake in the distance and the soaring mountains beyond.

  He thought he had come so far in his own psyche. He hadn’t given much thought to his mother in several years, not since the private investigator he sent to find her came back empty-handed years ago.

  He should have kept looking.

  Again, guilt pinched at him—the familiar guilt of a son who loved his mother despite her failings and wanted more for her than the hardscrabble, free-living, moment-to-moment existence she insisted on.

  He had no choice but to think about her now.

  Milo—the troubled, silent, needy son she had given birth to more than twenty-five years after she had Bowie—was a constant reminder. The boy had his mother’s eyes. Their mother’s eyes. Mysterious, deep, dreamy.

  With one last sigh, he shoved away the memories and forced himself to focus on the man he had become, someone far more comfortable in the safe, predictable world of technology than with the murky morass of his past.

  * * *

  “THAT WENT WELL, don’t you think?”

  Bowie nodded at his personal assistant, the only person still linked into the video conference call. “Excellent. Sounds like with the information we gave them, they can iron out the supplier problems and be set to move into production by next quarter.”

  Peggy Luchino shifted in her chair. She was plump and pretty, with long curly hair and eyes that always seemed to smile. In the two months since he had come to the Haven Point facility, she had taken him under wing—somewhat like the older sister he never had.

  “Good work, Peggy. We never would have made so much progress if you hadn’t been there to keep us on track.”

  “Thanks.” She gave a rueful smile. “Even so, it went longer than we anticipated. Sorry about that.”

  He looked up at the clock above his desk and was shocked to realize he had been on the conference call for two solid hours. Amazing, how fast time went when he was solving a problem, making progress toward a goal. It had always been that way, since his first hacking attempts on a cobbled-together secondhand computer when he was eleven years old.

  “Not your fault.”

  “I’ll write up the transcript from the call and send you all salient info by first thing tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. Talk to you later.”

  When her image disappeared from the screen in front of him, Bowie stood, feeling a crick in his neck for the first time from being in one position too long. His stomach rumbled, too. He supposed he ought to grab some lunch before he dived in again.

  As Bowie tilted his head from side to side to ease some of the tension in his muscles and ligaments, the gleam of sunlight on water caught his gaze, and he looked out the window at the lake rippling in a summer afternoon.

  A quick walk out to the terrace would be just the thing to clear some of this murkiness out of his head, he decided.

  It was only after he headed out into the hallway that the reminder of his responsibilities suddenly crashed over him.

  Milo!

  He had told the neighbor girl he would be on the conference call for only thirty minutes or so and it was now more than double that. Shit! He was the worst guardian on the planet. Every time he thought he was starting to figure out this whole being-responsible-for-a-child thing, something like this happened to remind him of his inadequacies.

  Where were they? He rushed through the house, straining to hear any sound that might pinpoint their location, but heard only silence.

  Nothing new there. That was one of the toughest things about having a brother who didn’t speak. On the numerous occasions when Milo had slipped away, Bowie had discovered it was tough to find him.

  After a quick scan of the house didn’t reveal Milo or Lizzie, he remembered she had planned to take him for a walk on the shoreline trail. Was it possible something had happened to Milo? He had an odd fascination with the water, which scared the hell out of Bowie.

  Surely he would have heard from Lizzie if his brother fell in. Someone would have contacted him, right? Unless Lizzie hadn’t been able to call for help because she had somehow gone into the water, too...

  His mind racing with grim possibilities, he rushed out to the terrace, the last place he had seen them. Relief flooded through him when he spotted Milo at the water’s edge, poised to throw a small rock into the water.

  Close on its heels was more concern when Bowie realized his brother appeared to be alone, with no sign of Lizzie or Jerry Lewis.

  Bowie stalked forward and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Milo! You know you’re not supposed to be near the water by yourself! Where is Lizzie?”

  “She left.”

  He turned around sharply at the voice that most definitely was not the neighbor girl. Instead, he found the lovely Katrina Bailey sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs facing the lake, where she appeared to be keeping an eagle eye on
the boy from beneath the shade of an umbrella.

  He didn’t know how he had missed seeing her in his initial scan of the patio. She had been lost in shadow, he supposed, plus his attention had been focused on Milo.

  Now, as she shifted into the sunlight, he couldn’t seem to look away. She wore a peach shirt and a pair of khaki shorts that made her legs look long and slim and tanned. All that silky wheat-colored hair was on top of her head in a messy, summery style that tempted a man to pull out the pins and see if it was as soft as it looked.

  His heart rate, already high with anxiety over his missing brother, kicked up a notch, a reaction he found as unsettling as it was unwanted.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Keeping an eye on your younger brother. Somebody had to.”

  He knew the quick flash of guilt was completely appropriate. He should have been more aware of the time.

  “Where is Lizzie? I thought she was watching him.”

  Katrina gave him a cool look that left him in no doubt about her feelings toward him, which apparently hadn’t miraculously improved overnight. He wasn’t at all sure what he had done to deserve her dislike—okay, except maybe completely forget he had a responsibility to something besides his work.

  “She left about an hour ago,” Katrina said. “She had to go to an orthodontist appointment.”

  Crap. The girl had told him as much when he asked her to keep an eye on Milo. Like time itself, the memory had slipped his mind. He furrowed his brow. “That still doesn’t explain how you ended up here with him. Did she call you or something?”

  He thought he saw a tiny hint of color bloom across her cheekbones, though he might have been mistaken.

  “No. They bumped into me earlier when I was at McKenzie and Ben’s house, working on a few projects with her for my sister’s wedding reception.”

  “Oh. You’re friends with McKenzie.”

  Of course she would be friends with McKenzie Kilpatrick, who was married to his friend and the chief operating officer at Caine Tech. It didn’t surprise him a bit. In the short time he’d been in Haven Point, he had already figured out that all the women here seemed to run in one big pack.

  They scared the hell out of him, truth be told.

  “Yes. She’s close to my sister’s age and they were friends since school—which means we were friends, too.”

  He liked both of the women Aidan and Ben had recently married. Eliza Caine and McKenzie Kilpatrick both seemed great. More important to him, they made his friends happier than he’d ever known them.

  “We happened to be taking a break in the backyard when Milo and Lizzie walked past. He seemed glad to see me, and Lizzie could see that Milo and I knew each other. As we were talking to them, she kept looking at her watch and mentioned her appointment. I offered to keep an eye on him until you finished your call. I didn’t think you’d mind. We’ve been skipping rocks for the last half hour or so.”

  “Sorry you were dragged into it. I should have kept better track of the time. Lizzie told me she had an appointment, but I was wrapped up in the meeting and it completely slipped my mind. Thanks for helping.”

  “I’m glad it worked out.” She nodded toward Milo, who was paying them no attention. “I do think he’s getting a little hungry. I would have fixed him a sandwich or something, but I couldn’t figure out how to get in, and I thought you might worry if I took him all the way to my mom’s place.”

  Her words weren’t necessarily barbed, but he felt the implicit criticism in them. What kind of ass locks his kid brother out of the house and then forgets him for hours on end?

  Yeah. Bowie Callahan. That’s who.

  “I didn’t even think about the door being locked. Sorry. Since Milo came to live with me, I’ve had to buy automatic locks and beef up security. He has a tendency to wander.”

  That was only one of a million ways his life had completely changed in the last three weeks. He was still trying to process all the changes—and apparently wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

  “Probably smart. You live on a lake. Anything could happen if he managed to get out.”

  She didn’t have to tell him that. He had the nightmares to prove it.

  “I’ve tried to explain to him that he can’t just take off, but I’m not sure how much he internalizes.”

  As if sensing they were talking about him, Milo wandered over to them, apparently done with throwing rocks.

  He barely acknowledged Bo but handed Katrina a rock from the lakeshore with as close to a smile as he ever managed.

  She looked confused for a moment, then closed her fingers over it. “Oh, that’s a pretty one. Are you giving it to me to keep?”

  Milo nodded, though he still didn’t smile.

  “Thanks. I’ll be sure to find a great place for it.”

  Milo nodded and pantomimed putting something in his mouth.

  “You want me to put it in my mouth? I don’t think it would taste very good.”

  That was one particular entry in the Dictionary of Milo that Bowie had figured out. “You hungry, buddy?” he asked.

  Milo nodded and Bo felt a rather ridiculous sense of accomplishment.

  “Want me to make you a sandwich?” he asked.

  This time Milo shook his head vigorously and pointed to Katrina.

  “Want me to make Katrina a sandwich?” Bowie tried.

  Again Milo shook his head. Okay, so he wasn’t completely fluent in Milo-ese yet. He was working on it.

  Katrina watched this encounter with an expression he couldn’t read on her lovely features. “I think he wants me to make him a sandwich.”

  At this, Milo nodded his head vigorously. The little manipulator.

  “Too bad. Guess he’ll have to make do with his boring brother. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

  “I don’t mind. I can make him a sandwich. In fact, if you have more work to do, I’m happy to stick around a little longer.”

  He blinked in surprise. Now he was quite certain he hadn’t mistaken the color on her cheeks. She was blushing. He just couldn’t quite figure out why. What was he missing here?

  “That’s very kind of you,” he said. “But you made it quite clear yesterday that you weren’t looking for a nanny job.”

  “Um. About that.” She fidgeted. “I was actually glad Milo and Lizzie stopped by while I was at McKenzie’s house. I wanted to come over later, anyway, to talk to you.”

  Bowie felt a tiny flicker of hope. Was it possible? Had she changed her mind? “Oh? Talk to me about what?”

  She cleared her throat and looked out at the lake for a second before shifting her gaze back to his. “Um, I was wondering if you were still looking for someone to help you out with Milo for a few weeks.”

  That flicker grew into a steady flame. He was almost afraid to let himself hope. He had three major projects at critical points in development at Caine Tech, each important to the viability of the new facility in Haven Point. He couldn’t continue to split his attention between work and his brother, since he wasn’t doing a good job of meeting his responsibilities at either end.

  If she could help him over this rough patch until Debra Peters could arrive and start working with Milo, he might have half a chance of making this work.

  “Yeah. Desperately. Lizzie is great to help me out in a pinch, but she appears to have a busier social schedule than a Kardashian. Are you really reconsidering?”

  She shifted. “Maybe.”

  Relief flowed through him. “What happened? The last time we spoke, you made it clear you weren’t interested in helping me out with Milo.”

  “Circumstances can change, and so can minds.” She shrugged, still looking uncomfortable. “I can’t help you longer than a few weeks. You’re clear on that, right?”

&
nbsp; “Yes. No problem. It will be perfect. The autism specialist I’ve hired will be here to start around then. If you can fill in the gap until she arrives, you’ll be saving my neck.”

  “I mean it. My time in Haven Point is limited, and then I have...obligations in Colombia.”

  What sort of obligations? She said she was teaching English down there, but he had somehow gained the impression it was a temporary gig. Maybe she had something more permanent lined up. Or maybe she had a man waiting for her there.

  That particular idea didn’t sit well with him, for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely. “Not a problem,” he answered.

  “Good,” she said briskly. “Also, I might have errands to run while I help take care of the final touches on the wedding. As long as you don’t mind, I probably can take Milo with me on most of them.”

  Based on his own experience shopping with Milo, he would rather have every single eyebrow hair plucked out one by one than take his brother into a store for any length of time if he didn’t have to. The grocery store meltdown the day before had been on the mild end of the scale.

  But he would leave her to figure that out for herself. “That should be fine. Do you need a vehicle to drive? I’ve got several in the garage. You’re welcome to use any of them.”

  “No. I left my car here when I went to South America last year, but it sat over the winter and needs some work. My uncle, er, stepfather has some loaners at his lot and says I can use one of those if I need it.”

  “Take what you need from the garage. Milo likes the SUV, for what it’s worth, since it has a TV in the back. Now, about the salary...”

  She blushed again, which he found utterly fascinating. “I’m fine with the amount you mentioned yesterday. More than fine. It’s completely ridiculous and entirely too much money for a few weeks’ work. But you’re desperate and I need the money, so I guess it’s a win-win all the way around.”