“That’s very generous of you, Brent. And while I appreciate it, I won’t be a party to kicking you out of your own home. The ideal situation would be to take him home. But I’ve decided I’m not taking him anywhere around Wes’s family, certainly not back to Santa Fe where I’ve been duped from the onset. The Patton family is in for a fight if they want visitation rights to see their grandson. If it’s proved they were a party to stealing Luke they won’t get anywhere near him.”
“I think that’s wise. All this time, they more than likely have been visiting Luke off and on since Wes was on the run anyway.”
“Thinking about that just makes me sick to my stomach so I won’t. Think about it, that is. I’m not even certain they’ll bother with Luke. It was more all about Wes than you might realize. Now that he’s gone…”
“I don’t know the Pattons, but if they helped Wes keep Luke a secret, they could be charged with obstruction, same goes for Ortega.”
“I just want my son back. Prosecuting the Pattons will be up to the authorities. I’ll call Nick and Jordan first thing in the morning and get them to make up the room next to mine, bring in a child’s bed or a crib. God, I don’t even know what he sleeps in.”
“I doubt he’s been sleeping in a crib living out of motels along the way to Wyoming,” Brent pointed out.
“That’s probably true. But it’s a temporary fix, right? Just until I decide my next step. I don’t know what kind of situations I’ll be dealing with or for how long. My baby won’t know me, Brent. There’s a distinct possibility bonding with him will be a problem. Emilio’s already agreed to me taking some time off to deal with that whenever I got Luke back. In the meantime, Julian will take over the dig.”
Brent rubbed her shoulders, “I’ll keep the offer to move in here open, River. If you should change your mind…”
She picked up his hand, kissed the palm, rubbed it against her cheek. “I’ll have to assess Luke before I move him around. More than anything I want stability for him, a home. I want to spend time with him doing things most moms take for granted. I know one thing. I won’t be going back to work anytime soon. I have some money saved. I had planned to use it to sue that detective. But now…the money will be much better spent staying with Luke—wherever that is.”
“You take whatever time you need with your son. You’ve earned it. He’s been moved around enough. It’s time you experienced the same home cooking right here that worked so well for Wes in Santa Fe.”
Her forehead creased into lines. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. You’ve made friends here, River. There are people who’ll be in your corner. You don’t have to head back to Santa Fe to rally support. It’s right here in California, in Pelican Pointe. We even have our own social worker assigned to the area. I can vouch for the fact that Carla Vargas is a fair-minded woman when it comes to her cases. It’s time something or someone worked in your favor. Don’t you think?”
Over the next agonizing hours there was no way River could get back to sleep. Instead, she crawled out of bed—grabbed her cell phone just in case—and headed out to make a pot of coffee, leaving Brent sleeping peacefully curled into his pillow.
Standing in his tidy but dated kitchen, looking out into the darkness, she measured beans for the grinder and mulled Brent’s words around in her head.
While she waited for the phone call that would hopefully set her life in a brand-new direction, she considered the little town she’d come to love.
The little coastal community had a way about it. She liked the people, the atmosphere, spending time on the dunes working next to the ocean. But she had to admit with all of that, the main draw was her deep feelings for Brent. Thankfully, he didn’t have a clue how she felt, unless of course his father and brother had blabbed. She should have sworn them to secrecy and kept that little nugget to herself.
But it was too late now.
Was he right though? She couldn’t argue with the prospect of experiencing a little home cooking of her own. She’d certainly made friends here. But was the bond with these people enough to warrant making a home here? Did she have that same connection with anyone other than her mother back in New Mexico?
“You know your mother is the last link you have to Santa Fe. She’s the only one there who means anything to you,” Scott said, breaking in on her thoughts.
River jumped at the voice. “Honestly, must you do that every single time you decide to have a conversation with someone? It’s kinda creepy.”
Scott smiled. “It’s one of the codes we ghosts live by. I break the code I have to start carrying chains around. You don’t want me looking like something out of Scrooge, do you?”
River started laughing. “Thanks. I needed that right now. Luke’s coming back to me.”
“I know.”
“The waiting is awful.”
“It’s almost over for you, River. Hang in there. You might consider staying in Pelican Pointe. It might be the best thing for you and Luke.”
“Even though Mom’s there, Santa Fe poses a problem. I don’t want to be around the Pattons.”
“Don’t make the decision because of that. Follow your heart, River.”
“I did that once and look how that turned out.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t turn away from what your heart wants this time because of a man like Wes. You know he isn’t worth it.”
Brent found her in that same contemplative state when he made his way into the kitchen.
While he filled a coffee cup, he noted her tired eyes, the bags underneath and the slump of her shoulders. Her overall body language told him she needed a good night’s sleep. “You should come back to bed.”
“No way can I close my eyes.”
“What were you thinking just now?” he asked as he took the first soothing sip of caffeine.
“That the only thing for me in New Mexico is my mom. And these days she doesn’t even know her own daughter.”
“You could always move her closer.”
“That’s a thought. You didn’t have to get up, Brent. You should crawl back into bed.”
“I will if you will. You look like shit, River. Going without sleep won’t change a thing. You get Luke back, you need to be on top of your game.”
Because she knew that was true she said, “Then why are we standing here drinking coffee at four in the morning?”
Later that morning at seven-thirty, the phone rang a second time. It was River who reached across Brent’s body to answer it. Noting the number on the display, she didn’t hesitate or mince words. “I want my son, Swain.”
“And you’ll get him. The DNA was a match. Luke and the social worker will be on the first flight out to Santa Cruz. Meet us at the airport.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
At two-thirty that afternoon Brent walked River into a special room inside the Santa Cruz airport that had been set up especially for the reunion, away from the prying eyes of the press.
During several subsequent phone calls, Swain had revealed to Brent that Luke had been hiding in the bathroom when Wes had inexplicably left the motel room to open the door and confront the police. Wes had walked outside pointing a Luger automatic at the band of police yelling at him to drop the weapon. When Wes had refused, one of the cops opened fire.
“I don’t get it. Why would an anthropology professor make that kind of stand when he’d finally been caught with his son? It makes no sense,” River pointed out.
“None of this makes any sense at all since Wes wasn’t even present at Luke’s birth and hadn’t bonded in the first six months of his life. Why would he risk getting shot like that when all he had to do was give himself up?” Brent asked, clearly perplexed by the turn of events.
“It’s weird, I’ll grant you that. Why was he armed at all? Who was he planning to shoot?” Chill bumps crawled up River’s arms. “It makes me wonder… You don’t suppose…”
They locked eyes. “Don’t even think like that. Luke is sa
fe and that’s all that matters right now. Are you sure there wasn’t something else in his past Wes wanted to keep secret, something he was hiding?”
“I have no idea. I’m just glad Luke wasn’t hurt. Wonder if Wes put him in the bathroom or Luke went in there on his own?”
“We’ll probably never know. But Luke obviously heard the gunshots. We’re lucky he didn’t witness the actual shooting,” Brent told her.
“Thank God for that,” River breathed out as she paced like a caged tiger inside the twelve-by-twelve enclosed space waiting for word that Luke’s plane had touched down. “What’s taking them so long?”
Brent decided she needed to get her mind off the wait. “I knew we shouldn’t have arrived so early. You’re gonna wear out a hole in the carpet before they walk through the door.”
“I can’t remember being this nervous before about anything. I’m shaking.” She held out both hands for him to see. “I feel like I might have a heart attack or something before he even gets here.”
Brent couldn’t take it anymore from his seat in the comfy chair. He stood up, went to her, blocking her in stride by snaking his arm around her waist. He covered her mouth, kissing her until she took a calming breath.
“I needed that.”
“I know you did.”
At the knock on the door, they broke apart. River smoothed out her top, wiped her hands on her jeans. “Do I look okay?”
“You look beautiful,” he said as he went to the door and threw it open.
The social worker turned out to be a fifty-something woman with stylish shoulder-length auburn hair who came in carrying a toddler. The little boy clutched a worn-out, brown, stuffed bear in a tight death grip. He wore a look of absolute uncertainty at what he didn’t understand. His big brown eyes were huge as saucers.
Brent decided Luke was the spitting image of his mother. He knew that for certain because he’d stared enough at Wes’s mug shot. With the child’s bronze skin, Luke looked nothing like the man who’d kidnapped him.
Brent watched as River did her best not to rush over to the frightened child who obviously needed some reassurance that things were going to get a whole lot better.
“Go on,” Brent finally whispered in her ear, nudging her toward the baby. “It’ll be okay.”
“He doesn’t know me. I don’t want to frighten him,” River said with tears streaming down her face.
But the social worker surprised them both and took care of that. River heard her tell Luke, “Sweetie, do you remember what we did on the plane ride here?”
The little guy bobbed his head up and down. “But my mommy’s dead. Daddy said so.”
“No, sweetie, I showed you the photo of your mommy and what she looked like, remember that? While the plane flew here we looked at pictures of your mommy. And guess what? Mommy’s here now to see her big boy. Look over there. Who is that? Is that your mommy? That’s your mommy, Luke. Doesn’t she look like the photo I showed you on the plane?”
The toddler’s eyes got even bigger when they landed on River. Luke stuck his finger in his mouth, not sure how to answer. Confused, overwhelmed, Luke simply stared.
But the social worker persisted and went on, “Your mommy’s missed you so very much. And she’s right here now waiting for you. Do you want to say hi?”
He shook his head no.
Not to be dissuaded, River had a hard time getting her feet to move. Once she did though, she crossed to where the two of them stood. She tried for calm to get her thudding heart to slow to a natural rhythm so she could get one single word to come out. She went on instinct first, running her fingers through his thick dark hair. “Oh baby, Mommy’s right here.” She placed his small hand over her heart and cooed in her calmest voice, “It’ll be okay now. It will all be okay.”
She touched his cheek, rubbed his back up and down. When he didn’t draw away she took that as a good sign. Keeping her words simple but not in baby-speak she added, “Luke, I’m so glad to see you. It’s been so long. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, waiting for you to come back to me.”
She picked up Luke’s other hand, held it to hers, palm to palm. Hoping to use what she had inside her to trigger some long buried memory—some sort of recognition from those early months she’d spent with him as an infant—she put all her energy into reconnecting. Eager to spark a sliver of awareness from the past, she said, “I’m your mommy, baby. Your mommy loves you and she never stopped looking for you, not once. She hoped you’d come back to her one day. And now you’re here.”
Another wave of inspiration hit her then. Softly, River began to sing the lyrics to Puff, the Magic Dragon. But then Luke broke in, “Why did you go ’way?”
A sob squeaked out of her throat. For a brief moment she locked eyes with Brent in a pleading way. “This is so difficult for him to understand.”
“Sing to him again, River,” Brent prodded.
River went through the refrain again from the beginning. When she got to the second verse, all of a sudden—as if finally deciding to trust this adult—Luke took his finger out of his mouth. He held up his hand to hers again, palm to palm. River saw father and son on the run. She saw turmoil. She saw Wes get frustrated at changing dirty diapers, losing his temper at the little boy when he wouldn’t cooperate.
“My mommy.”
At the words, River sucked in a breath. “Yes, baby, I’m your mommy.” When he abruptly held out his arms for River, she made a sobbing sound from deep in her throat.
As soon as the social worker relinquished him into River’s chest, River dropped down on the carpeted floor to her knees, wrapping up the baby. The last thing she ever wanted to do was scare him by crying uncontrollably so she gutted it out, bit her lip, and rocked him gently back and forth instead of bawling her eyes out.
“It’s okay, baby. It will be okay now. Mommy’s here now and she won’t ever let anything bad happen to you.”
“Will you sing me da song again?”
Her eyes filled with tears but she rested her head on Luke’s and said, “You bet, sweetie. You bet I will. I’ll sing it as many times as you want.”
Luke fell asleep in his car seat on the ride from the airport to the B & B. River couldn’t stop staring at the miracle in the backseat.
“Look at him,” she said, glowing. “I feel like this is a dream, that I’ll wake up any minute and he’ll be gone again.” Her eyes misted over. “I don’t seem to be able to stop crying.”
“It’s an adjustment, both emotionally and physically for anyone, a rollercoaster ride for you in particular that yields a big-time gain in the long run. Who knew Ferguson’s carried a car seat.”
“It’s a good one, too. I looked it up on my phone to check out the safety features before I bought it.”
“Look, promise me something.” Brent picked up her hand, squeezed the fingers. “Promise me, you’ll give yourself some time and won’t be so hard on yourself during these first couple of days with Luke.”
“I’ll try. I’m a mom again.” She sighed and it filled the cab of the pickup. “My little guy is alive and well and he’s all mine.”
“It’s amazing how he took to you right away. The social worker said she’d only seen it happen twice before but neither time had been after being away for two years and especially when a baby had been taken so young.”
“Because of Luke’s reaction to me she handed the case off to Carla Vargas. You were right. Carla is a jewel to have in my corner. Was it my imagination or did it look to you like Luke felt something when he touched my hand? A glimmer of memory from babyhood maybe?”
“You know the answer to that as well as I do.”
“Okay, so our Native culture believes in that sort of thing happening from birth. We know our ancestors retold stories about the link a child makes in the womb.”
“It’s one of the more popular legends for a reason,” Brent finished. “Maybe Luke remembered the song.”
She glanced over and smiled. “I th
ought the same thing. Personally, I don’t care how anyone explains it because even twenty-first-century research backs up the claim that newborns develop a memory of what they experience early on. The idea that a baby is anything but a blank canvas has been studied from a scientific angle.”
About that time River spotted the news vans lined up on the roadway and the reporters waiting outside their vehicles for a chance to pounce even before the truck made the turn into Promise Cove. “Oh no.”
Brent drove past the tenacious Tamara Davis and several others he recognized. They’d managed to dodge the press in Santa Cruz but it looked as though that would be impossible now.
“For goodness sakes, look at this mob,” River groaned. “Don’t people have better things to do than to stick a microphone and a camera into someone’s face during what amounts to a very private moment?”
“I’ll handle this,” Brent assured her. He raised a hand to wave at Nick and Jordan who were standing on the front porch. “You take Luke into the house. Even though you’ve held one press conference, I’m used to dealing with these particular vultures on a regular basis. I recognize most of them. And I particularly want to get another shot at Tamara,” he said with a grin.
She grinned back. “Be my guest.”
By this time, Luke’s head had popped up. River hopped down out of the truck and hustled to open the back door to get Luke out of his car seat. Still groggy from his nap, he blinked in River’s direction, certainly not as wide-eyed as before.
River snatched up Mr. Fuzzy Bear and wiggled it in front of him. For a moment she thought he might pucker up and cry but when she picked him up, he simply rested his head on her shoulder, weary.
Starlight Dunes Page 23