Serenity Harbor
Page 9
“How did things go today?”
She went to work putting away utensils. “Busy but fun. He’s a sweet boy.”
“Barring his epic tantrums.”
“Even those aren’t happening as often. I think his meltdowns usually come when he’s frustrated that he can’t communicate. I would probably have a tantrum, too, if I couldn’t understand why people weren’t listening to me.”
He studied her, struck again by her compassion and kindness for a child she hadn’t even known existed a week earlier. “You genuinely enjoy being with him,” he said.
“Why wouldn’t I? He’s a sweet boy ninety-five percent of the time. I want to think I’m making progress with him, too. He seems calmer, and he’s starting to make a few more noises that almost sound like words.”
“I’ve seen improvement in these last few days,” he said. “Our evenings together have been much easier than they were before. He’s sleeping like a rock, too, so you must be tiring him out. Thanks for that. I don’t have to stay up all night worrying that he might wander.”
She gave a soft, lovely smile, and Bowie had to swallow the sudden urge to kiss the corner of her mouth where her lips lifted.
His heartbeat seemed unnaturally loud in his ears, which annoyed the hell out of him. She was so darn beautiful. Somehow she made him feel like that awkward kid in college in those tough first months when all the pretty coeds at MIT made it clear they thought he was too scrawny, too serious and especially too young.
He had dated plenty of beautiful women since then who didn’t spark this restless, achy reaction in him. What was different about Katrina Bailey?
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Today he helped me make wedding favors. Tomorrow we’re going to buy some things for the bachelorette party. I thought he would be bored to tears, running all over and helping me with my wedding errands, but he actually seems to be enjoying himself.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Oh,” she suddenly exclaimed. “I almost forgot to tell you. We made pasta for dinner. Chicken and broccoli. It was very tasty, if I do say so myself. Milo even had seconds. We had plenty of leftovers, so we fixed you a plate and left it in the refrigerator, if you’d like it.”
“Did you?” Warmth unfurled inside him at her thoughtfulness. “Sounds delicious. I didn’t realize I was hungry until right this moment.”
He decided it probably wouldn’t be wise to add that not all of his hunger was necessarily for food right now.
“Would you like me to heat it up for you?”
Given that he’d mostly taken care of himself throughout his childhood, he probably had been punching buttons on a microwave for longer than she had been alive, but he didn’t tell her that.
The truth was, he was touched that she wanted to take care of him. It wouldn’t take an advanced degree or months of psychoanalysis to figure out why.
That was probably the reason why he should decline her offer. “Thanks, but I can heat it up,” he said.
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a plate covered in plastic wrap and mounded over with thick, creamy-looking pasta with bright green broccoli.
“Wow. That looks delicious.”
“There was nothing to it. You had all the ingredients. All we did was throw them together.”
She didn’t make a move to leave while he slid the plate into the microwave and hit a couple of buttons to reheat it, making him wonder if she was waiting for something else from him. For the life of him, he couldn’t think what that might be.
“I should go home, I guess,” she finally said.
“You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic about that.”
“Is it that obvious?”
Considering he had just been thinking he was the most unobservant man on the planet, it must be. “A little,” he admitted.
“My mother and stepfather are having a gathering,” she said. “Dinner and board games with a few friends. Even though it’s late, I doubt they’re finished yet.”
“You don’t like parties? That surprises me.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, sensing he had pissed her off somehow. “You just seem to have so many friends in Haven Point. I assumed you would enjoy socializing with them while you’re here.”
“Not this particular gathering. My mom is trying to set me up with one of her friend’s sons. She confessed after I called to tell her I was working late.”
The microwave signaled his food was ready. He pulled it out and set it on the kitchen island. To his delight, she poured a glass of water and sat down across from him.
“And you don’t want to be set up.”
She sighed. “Something I have told her again and again. She refuses to get the message.”
“Some moms can be pushy.” So he had heard, anyway.
“If there were Olympic competitions for stubborn, interfering mothers, mine would win a medal without question. Charlene can’t get it through her head that I’m no longer the same old flighty Katrina, willing to forget everything important to me, everything I’ve worked for, because some cute guy smiled at me.”
“Flighty? You? Are you serious?”
He had a hard time imagining it. The woman he had met was loyal and dedicated, patient to a fault and endlessly kind.
She looked gratified by the doubt in his voice, and he wanted to think some of her coolness warmed up a bit. “Yes. Unfortunately. I love my mother, but when she looks at me, she only sees what she wants to see. What she’s always seen. She expects me to be distracted by the next good-looking guy to come along. I think that’s what she’s praying for—what she’s counting on—so she’s doing everything possible to throw every available guy in town at me. And some who aren’t even available.”
The mystery of Katrina Bailey deepened every time he talked to her. She painted a picture of a lighthearted, flirty woman only out for a good time, but that didn’t resemble the woman he had entrusted with his brother.
And what was her mother trying to distract her from?
If he kept her talking, perhaps he might finally begin to find out a few answers. “Why would she think that?” he asked.
“I’m not saying she doesn’t have some basis for that. I haven’t, um, always made the best decisions when it comes to men.” Her color heightened a little, and she looked down at the table. “That’s in the past, though, and my mom refuses to see that I’ve changed. That everything has changed.”
“Because of what waits for you in Colombia.”
“Yes. Exactly!” she exclaimed. “I never would have guessed you would be one of the few people in Haven Point who seems to understand and appreciate that. Thank you!”
“You may wait to hold your applause,” he protested. “I was only making an observation. I never said a word about understanding and appreciating anything. How can I, when I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I have no idea what waits for you in Colombia.”
She studied him, her blue eyes glittering. “Do you really want to know?”
Yes. Hell yes.
“You’re caring for my brother. Of course I want to know. What is so important in Colombia that you can’t wait to leave your family and your life here in Haven Point?”
Her soft, pretty features twisted with indecision for a long moment, then she picked up her tablet and scrolled through it.
“This,” she finally said, holding out the tablet. Bowie reached for it, wondering if he was going to be forced to look at some beefy South American dude.
The display didn’t show a photo of a man. Instead, a little girl about three with long dark braids and the familiar features of someone with the extra chromosome he knew led to Down syndrome smiled back at him.
“Wasn�
�t expecting that,” he said truthfully. He studied the picture, struck by the sweetness of the little girl’s smile and the light in her eyes. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Gabriela Campos. She’s my daughter.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
BOWIE STARED AT her in shock for a full twenty seconds before he could manage to string together his fragmented thoughts enough to come up with a coherent response.
“Your...daughter. Who lives in Colombia.”
“For now. Only until the adoption is finalized and I can bring her back home with me.”
Adoption. Of course! All the pieces fell into place, leaving him feeling supremely foolish at the direction his thoughts had taken. For a minute there, he thought she actually had given birth to the girl, but that would have made no sense. Not that this explanation was much more rational.
“You, a young single woman, want to adopt this little girl with Down syndrome from Colombia and bring her back here.”
“No. I have to adopt her. She’s mine and I’m hers.”
She spoke with a quiet simplicity that struck straight to his heart, dredging up an ache from somewhere deep inside. Every mother should feel that way, adoptive or not. They didn’t always, as he knew too well.
Had Stella wanted Milo that way? For his brother’s sake, he had to hope so.
“And you’re going to bring her back to Haven Point and return to teaching?”
“I would like to. That’s the plan, anyway. The school system and medical services here would be so much better than what is available to her now, living in a cash-poor orphanage in a small village. She could find somewhat comparable services in one of the larger cities but not where she lives.”
“That makes sense.”
“Gabi is such a smart girl. Yes, she has some problems with her hearing and she will face heart surgery at some point, but she already knows the alphabet and she can count to fifty in Spanish and twelve in English. She’s not even four yet!”
She flipped through the photo album on her tablet and held up another image, this one of the two of them laughing together. The sheer joy on both faces made his chest ache again.
“She loves to hear me read stories to her, and she can pick out a few written words she recognizes, especially her name,” Katrina went on, with clear pride in her voice. “I know I can give her a good life, one filled with laughter and joy and possibilities, if I only have the chance. I have to make it happen, no matter what it takes.”
Bowie gazed at her, entranced not only by her words but by the passion behind them. She had a goal and was doing everything she could to make it come to fruition, trying to provide a loving home to a girl who faced some of the same challenges Milo did.
He admired Katrina’s determination, especially since it sounded as if her family wasn’t totally supportive. That had to make everything much tougher.
“She’s a very lucky girl,” he said gruffly. “You’ll be a great mom.”
At his words, her eyes softened and her lips parted slightly. “Oh,” she said, sounding a little breathless. “Thank you, Bowie. That’s a lovely thing to say.”
“It’s the truth. I’ve seen how patient you are with Milo when he’s in a mood. If you can spend ten hours with him and not end the day wanting to bang your head against the wall, you’ve obviously got the necessary patience to do whatever it takes to help your daughter. She’s a lucky girl,” he repeated.
“You and my sister are the only ones who seem to understand how important this is to me. I... That means a lot.”
When she spoke about this little orphaned girl in Colombia, she glowed with life and light and warmth and was so lovely he couldn’t seem to look away.
Awareness shivered through him, heady and thick. The air in his kitchen buzzed with sudden tension, like fireflies sparkling on a summer evening.
He wanted to kiss her, more than he had wanted anything else in a long, long time. As the tension heightened, he saw the softness in her eyes shift to something else—a reprisal of that heat and hunger he thought he had glimpsed when she awoke and found him watching her.
She wanted him to kiss her, too.
It sounded arrogant as hell to think that and he tried to push the thought away, but it clung on with a surety he couldn’t deny. Somehow he knew that if he kissed her, she wouldn’t push him away.
He couldn’t do it, for a hundred reasons.
He had zero time for a relationship right now, between his new job and new responsibilities, as well as trying to find his way with his needy brother. Besides, whatever she might want in this moment, she had other goals and plans that didn’t include a brief fling with him.
Most important, he needed her. She was working wonders for his brother, and he couldn’t afford to screw that up.
Not to mention that he knew he wouldn’t want to stop with just a kiss—and anything more was completely impossible with his brother sleeping upstairs.
All those reasons made sense yet somehow didn’t make it any easier for him to break the connection and force himself to take a long drink of water. Katrina Bailey wasn’t for him, and he had to burn that reminder into his mind, no matter how tough.
“When will the adoption be finalized?” he asked, hoping that might distract both of them from this awareness that seethed and sizzled like rain on a sun-warmed sidewalk.
She blinked a little, as if disoriented by the sudden question. “I wish I knew,” she finally said. “International adoptions are much more difficult than they used to be, for many good reasons. The Hague Adoption Convention has tightened rules in most countries. I’ve been jumping through hoop after hoop for weeks because of the complicated circumstances—mainly, as you said, I’m a single woman trying to adopt a child with special needs and take her out of the country. I also don’t have a permanent home and I went on sabbatical when I left for South America, with no guarantee I can return to it, although I’ve had promises from the school district.”
She sighed. “All of that puts me at a huge disadvantage. Gabriela has serious medical needs that will require expensive therapies and treatments when we return here. The process of obtaining approval through the Colombian national adoption agency has been difficult enough—and that’s not factoring in the process to legally travel with her to the United States.”
From his own experience with his brother, he knew how complicated guardianship issues could be. He couldn’t imagine trying to navigate that process between two countries.
“That’s why you agreed to take the job helping me with Milo, even though you came home to be with your family.”
Color rose on her features. “My savings are starting to run out. I’d been working in Colombia while I was there, but English teachers in small villages don’t earn that much. What you’re paying is a huge buffer.”
For a moment, he was tempted to tell her he would make up any difference between what she had in savings and what she needed to complete the adoption. It would be easy enough for him to do, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t welcome that blanket offer, no matter how well-intentioned it might be. Perhaps he could figure out a creative way to give her some kind of adoption bonus.
“Who’s taking care of her while you’re here?”
“She’s been in the same orphanage since she was born, and the nuns who run it adore her. Apparently her mother was a very young girl herself in a tough situation and couldn’t handle the extra responsibilities of a child with disabilities. The nuns are very kind to her and do their best to give her extra attention, but the orphanage is crowded and there are other children who need them, too. I’ve Skyped with her twice since I’ve been home. I wish I could do it every day, but the sisters are too busy to arrange it more often.”
“Does she understand why you came back to the States?”
“Oh, yes. I showed he
r pictures of Wyn and Cade. She knows I’m here for a wedding. She thought for a minute it was my own wedding and that she’d have a father, too, when the adoption was final.” Her blush intensified. “Sorry. I’m talking your leg off. And look, you’ve worked your way through dinner and dessert.”
He hadn’t even realized he’d cleared everything off his plate, even the slice of chocolate cake she had unearthed from the refrigerator. Now he wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it beside the plate. “That was truly delicious. Thank you again.”
Her smile was sweeter than the cake. “You’re welcome.”
“If you want the truth, I enjoyed the company even more than the food.” He spoke before he really thought through his words.
In reaction, she looked first startled, then amused. “Are you flirting with me, Bowie Callahan?”
“No. That was completely sincere.”
“Good. Because I wouldn’t want you to waste either of our time. I’m only home for a few more weeks, and I have absolutely no intention of wasting any of that precious time with a go-nowhere fling.”
Though he had been thinking roughly the same thing about ten minutes earlier, he didn’t like hearing her make such a stark declaration.
“I can guarantee you this,” he said, unable to resist. “If we had a fling, you would not consider a moment of it wasted.”
She gazed at him, pupils dilating slightly for a moment before laughter rippled out of her. “Full of ourselves, are we?”
Her laughter was infectious, and he couldn’t help joining in.
“Just stating a fact,” he drawled.
Her laughter faded into a sigh. “I wish I could take you up on that, Bowie, I really do. A year ago, I would have been on you so fast your head would spin.”
He had to swallow down a moan at the image her words conjured.
“Is that right?”
“Are you kidding? Eligible men aren’t exactly thick on the ground in Haven Point. You are eligible, aren’t you? No wife or girlfriend hidden away back in California?”