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A Mother's Love

Page 15

by Dawn Stewardson


  But it didn’t really matter, because he was beyond resisting any longer.

  Assuring himself that one little kiss wouldn’t be a major deal for either of them, he brushed her lips with his.

  * * *

  NATALIE’S ENTIRE BODY melted under Hank’s gentle kiss—while her brain went on pause.

  Suddenly she wasn’t thinking about all the awful things she’d been through today. She was too caught up in the moment.

  From somewhere, a voice was warning her that this was anything but wise. She found ignoring it ludicrously easy.

  She didn’t care what was wise. She only cared about the way she felt in Hank’s arms. And about him.

  Oh, yes, definitely about him. As hard as she’d tried not to let herself feel anything for him, she’d failed miserably. And that was entirely his fault.

  How could she not have fallen for him when he was such a terrific man? When he was funny and gorgeous and kissing her with such tenderness?

  It had been so, so long. And kissing him felt so, so good.

  She slid her hand around the back of his neck and drew him closer. His arms felt deliciously strong around her, his chest was rock-solid against hers and she could feel how fast his heart was beating.

  “Natalie...” he whispered, his breath warm on her mouth.

  “Natalie, listen, I know I started this, but you’re in pretty rough shape and...I don’t want us doing something you’ll regret.”

  “Oh, Hank, after the day I’ve had, the way you’re making me feel is exactly what I need.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder and he stroked her hair, soothing away all her fears.

  * * *

  THEY’D FALLEN ASLEEP on the couch, and now, with the first faint light of dawn creeping into the living room, she lay in the sheltering circle of Hank’s arms, her back snuggled to his chest as she listened to his even breathing.

  Sometime before Robbie was likely to wake up, though, she had to get up out of Hank’s arms.

  But it had been so long since Carlos had died, so long since she’d been held like this...

  Carlos. As his name lingered in her mind, she realized that since she’d been here she hadn’t thought about him nearly as often as she usually did.

  Breathing slowly, she wondered how much she should read into that.

  In the three years since the earthquake, she’d kept his memory locked tightly in her heart, rarely going more than a few hours at a stretch without something reminding her of him. Yet recently...

  She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift back in time to the day she’d regained consciousness and learned she was in a hospital. To the day she’d been told her husband was dead.

  For a while after that she’d almost wanted to die herself. She suspected she might have if it hadn’t been for Robbie, if her love for him hadn’t made her determined to recover.

  Losing Carlos had been truly horrific, and part of her would never stop loving him. But maybe the fact that she was here like this with Hank meant she was finally ready to move on. If she was...

  If she was, she wished with all her might that it could be with him. But that wouldn’t happen. Even if she could come to terms with the idea of leaving Guatemala, she’d never let herself end up with Hank Ballantyne.

  As wonderful as he might be, as strong as her feelings for him had grown, she hadn’t forgotten the vow she’d made. She’d never let herself fall in love with a cop.

  A little bit late on that one, an imaginary voice told her.

  She silently admitted it was right. But whether she loved Hank or not, there wasn’t a future with him. Not for her. There was just no way she’d marry a man knowing that she’d worry every time he was late getting home.

  He nuzzled the back of her neck and kissed her shoulder; she began wishing he’d miraculously tell her that he’d decided to turn in his shield and become just about anything else he could possibly be.

  * * *

  HANK LAY MOTIONLESS beside Natalie for a minute, then kissed her shoulder a second time—still trying to decide whether he should speak up or not.

  “Mmm,” she murmured.

  Smiling to himself, he trailed his hand down her cheek. Her skin was so soft that he absolutely loved touching her. And with each breath he took he could smell her exotic-flowers scent.

  Her being with him, like this, put their situation in an entirely different light. To his way of thinking, at least. Now that they’d fallen in love...

  That was where they were at, wasn’t it?

  It was definitely where he was at. And he felt pretty sure that Natalie wasn’t a casual-relationship sort of woman, so the fact that she had kissed him, had let him hold her all night...

  Didn’t that mean the most logical thing in the world would be for her to stay with him forever? For them to both be with Robbie all the time? For them to be a family?

  He ordered his mind to slow down. His feelings for her had developed so fast—not to mention so unexpectedly—that he’d be a downright idiot to say too much too soon. His only sensible course of action was waiting to see if this truly was the real thing.

  While he was doing that, though, surely it wouldn’t hurt to ease into discussing the idea with her. Would it? If he made it clear he was only talking in terms of a speculative sort of possibility?

  But what if he sent up a trial balloon and she shot it down with another of her “Guatemala is my home” responses?

  Not a hard one to answer. It would just about kill him. She wouldn’t, though. Would she?

  He really didn’t see how she could. Not if she had her priorities straight. And if she loved him even half as much as he loved her.

  Of course, she hadn’t actually said she loved him at all. Neither of them had come right out and used the word. So maybe he should do that right now. Maybe—

  “Hank?” she whispered.

  “Uh-huh?”

  “I’d better go. In case Robbie wakes up early.”

  “Right,” he forced himself to say.

  What was wrong with his brain? This wasn’t the time to initiate an important discussion.

  He watched her walk into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, he could hear her starting coffee. After that, she came back down the hall and quietly opened the door to Robbie’s room.

  And then she took such a sharp breath it was almost louder than a scream.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HANK LEAPED UP and raced into the hall.

  Natalie was standing, tense and white-faced, in Robbie’s doorway.

  “Hank,” she said, her voice barely audible. “He’s gone.”

  “Don’t worry,” he told her, trying to sound reassuring while his heart pounded in his ears. “He’s got to be somewhere in the house.”

  “No, he doesn’t. The back door was unlocked. I noticed when I went into the kitchen.”

  Dread filled his chest.

  “Robbie?” he called loudly. “Son, where are you?”

  Nothing.

  He dropped to the floor and peered under the bed, then checked the closet.

  When Robbie didn’t burst out with a “Boo!” he said, “Okay, I’ll search the basement. You start looking on this floor. Hopefully, he’s just hiding.”

  “And if that’s not it?” Natalie asked, her face still pale.

  “We’ll find him. If he went out he can’t have gone far. He’s too afraid of the dark to have left before daybreak.”

  Starting down the hall, he began praying that Robbie actually had just taken off on his own. There was no sign of a forced entry, but that didn’t guarantee someone hadn’t gotten in and kidnapped him.

  Searching the house proved futile, and by the time they’d finished, Hank’s expression was grim and Natalie felt utterly terrified.

  Robbie was so upset about her being his mother that he’d run away. And if anything awful happened to him...

  She’d lost him once. If she lost him again, after barely finding him...

&nbs
p; Hank had decided Robbie must have gone into the woods, and she tried not to recall how thick they were. Or to imagine how easily a little boy would lose his bearings in them.

  Bearings...bears... Oh, no, were there bears in that forest?

  Telling herself to think about anything other than the fact there likely were, she forced her attention to Hank. He’d already called the Madison police and was now talking to someone with the state highway patrol.

  “My property backs onto the Red Creek Nature Preserve,” he was saying. “I think he’d have headed in there, but if you’ll put out an APB for the whole area?

  “Right, a little boy on his own. Or with an adult who might not be his parent.

  “Someone could have already found him,” he whispered to her.

  Then, into the phone, he said, “Uh-huh. I think it’s a possibility. But the preserve’s got to be way more likely. His mother and I are going to head there now. If we don’t find him fast, I’ll call back about a full-scale search.”

  He rattled off his cell phone number so that if anyone else found Robbie they’d hear about it right away, then he grabbed Natalie’s hand and they tore out the back door and down to the woods.

  “Robbie!” he yelled as they reached the fence.

  She held her breath and listened hard, but there was no reply.

  “We can’t split up,” he muttered as they ducked between the rails. “If we did, you’d probably get lost. But you concentrate on the left and I’ll concentrate on the right. That way, we can move faster.”

  They headed deep into the trees, taking turns calling Robbie’s name.

  After they’d gone a hundred yards or so, Hank stopped and said, “He and I usually come to about here, then turn either left or right.”

  “Left,” she said without conscious thought.

  “Mother’s intuition?”

  “Oh, Hank, I hope so.”

  They moved as rapidly as possible, their progress impeded by uneven ground and heavy vegetation.

  “Robbie!” she shouted once more.

  When there was still no response, she could feel panic threatening to overwhelm her.

  “He’s here someplace,” Hank said, giving her hand a squeeze as they walked on. “I just know he is.”

  She nodded, almost asking about those bears but too frightened of what the answer would be.

  “Robbie!” he hollered again.

  Then again...and again...until he was sounding hoarse.

  Every nerve ending in her body had begun feeling raw before they finally heard a response to Hank’s shouts.

  “Daddy?”

  When she heard Robbie’s voice in the distance, the relief that swept her was so strong it practically brought her to her knees.

  “He’s okay,” Hank said, his voice breaking.

  “Robbie! Call again so I know where you are.”

  “I’m here!” he cried.

  They quickly made their way forward and found him sitting on a fallen log—a few scratches on his arms and his face stained with tears.

  “Robbie,” Hank said, sweeping him up. “Are you all right?”

  “Uh-huh. But I can’t walk anymore. My legs are too tired.”

  “Son, you know you’re not allowed to come in here by yourself. Why on earth did you?”

  He shrugged.

  “You must have had a reason. What was it? Robbie, tell me.”

  “I was lookin’ for Natalie,” he said at last.

  He’d been looking for her? A circle of warmth formed around her heart and began spreading through her entire body. Hank had been right. Her son didn’t hate her. He’d just found things too confusing.

  “Why were you looking for her out here?” Hank demanded.

  “’Cuz she wasn’t in her room.”

  “Oh, Lord,” she whispered, catching Hank’s gaze.

  “You mean you looked for her in the house this morning?”

  Robbie nodded against his shoulder. “But she wasn’t in Mrs. Chevy’s room. Or in the kitchen. So I came to look here. In case she was lost.”

  “Son, you have to promise never to come in here on your own again. Not for any reason. If you think someone’s lost, you tell me about it, okay?”

  He nodded once more and said, “’Kay.”

  “I’ve got to call off the cavalry,” Hank said, digging his cell phone from his pocket. “Would you take him for a minute?” he added, passing Robbie to her.

  When he wrapped his arms around her neck, tears began to sting her eyes.

  He was safe and sound. And he didn’t hate her. She wouldn’t be surprised if she’d be able to float all the way back to the house.

  * * *

  AT FIVE MINUTES PAST NINE, Natalie and Hank were sitting in the kitchen, Natalie talking on the phone with Cynthia Koehler, explaining that she could be at the hospital anytime today and asking if they could get together to discuss the Perezes.

  “Well, someone from Social Services is coming to see me about them at ten-thirty,” Cynthia said. “Apparently, I’ve ended up as liaison—thanks to Emma’s being my patient.

  “At any rate, the immediate issue is a service for her mother. Señora Perez is going to need help arranging that. But I’m sure we’ll be discussing the long-term picture as well, so if you’d like to sit in...”

  “Definitely. I’ll see you in a little while. Bye.

  “Cynthia’s seeing someone from Social Services at ten-thirty,” she explained to Hank as she clicked off. “And I told her—”

  “I heard.”

  He waited a beat, then said, “I’m surprised you’re going to let Robbie out of your sight.”

  She glanced toward the hall where he was noisily racing two of his trucks.

  Thinking it hadn’t taken long for his tired legs to recover, she looked at Hank again. “I don’t want to let him out of my sight. I want to hover over him like the proverbial mother hen.

  “But as you said last night, he needs a while to get used to the idea that I’m his mother. Have you noticed he hasn’t said a word about it this morning?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He’s acting exactly the way he was before. As if we’d never told him.”

  Hank nodded. “He’ll say something sooner or later. It’s still not clear in his head yet, so he’ll have more questions. But we should let him get around to asking them in his own time.”

  “Yes. Right. And since his own time could be days, then my going out—”

  “Or it could be an hour,” Hank interrupted. “And he might have things he’d like to ask you, too.”

  “I won’t be gone that long, and...” Pausing, she shook her head, then added, “Hank, I’ve got to see this through. I can’t simply desert Emma and her grandmother.”

  He took another sip of his coffee, not saying what she knew was on his mind. That despite his advice and despite her knowing it wasn’t smart, she just kept getting in further and further with the two of them.

  “Hank, I’m all they’ve got,” she said.

  “No, you’re not all they’ve got. You’re a volunteer. A temporary volunteer. And—”

  “And they know me. And I speak Spanish. And I care. Who else is going to make sure that somebody does right by them?”

  “Cynthia will, from the sound of it. Or someone from Social Services. Or from Child Services. Hell, I don’t know exactly who does what in the system. But they’re not going to end up on the street if you aren’t involved.”

  “I just want to be certain they get enough help. That there’s a solid plan in place so neither of them will fall through a crack after Emma’s discharged.”

  Hank nodded once more, and even though she could tell there was a lot more he was dying to say, he didn’t utter another word.

  She searched her brain for a way of changing the subject before he decided to pursue it further.

  Then he raised his mug to his lips again and she couldn’t help thinking that a stranger wandering in would take them for a long-marrie
d couple—sitting together at the table over morning coffee, with nothing much to say to each other.

  In reality, however, she wasn’t feeling the slightest bit like half of a long-married couple. What she was suddenly aware of feeling was conscious of the recent change in their relationship.

  If his four-o’clock shadow could talk, she knew it would be calling out for her to reach over and trail her fingers along his jaw.

  Firmly she told herself she was not going to do anything remotely like that. She was thinking far straighter at the moment than she’d been last night.

  She hadn’t been thinking at all. And even now, it was difficult to force her eyes from him.

  It took a serious effort, but she finally succeeded. And as soon as she did, something reasonable to say popped into her head.

  “I assume you’re going to work tonight?” she asked, letting herself risk looking at him again.

  He gazed at her for a long moment before giving her a slow, warm smile.

  “Maybe I should call in sick again,” he said.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she made herself say. “We can’t have any repeats of last night.”

  “What?” His smile vanished. “You aren’t serious.”

  “Trust me,” she murmured. “I don’t like the thought any more than you do. Kissing you was...incredible.”

  The smile reappeared.

  He reached across the table, but before he could take her hand in his, she tucked it into her lap and nodded in Robbie’s direction.

  “Hank, he’s confused enough as it is. What if he’d found us on the couch together?”

  “We weren’t doing anything—”

  “That isn’t my point. He needs structure in his life right now. If he comes looking for me again, I have to be where he expects me to be, doing what he expects me to be doing. And so do you.”

  Hank sat eyeing her for another long moment, then said, “Let’s stop worrying about what Robbie needs for a minute and focus on us. Those kisses, holding you...it meant something to me. Meant a lot to me.”

  He took a deep breath, then added, “Because you mean a lot to me.”

  “Oh, Hank,” she whispered.

  His words sent a rush of emotion through her, yet she couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t said them, that he hadn’t come right out and...

 

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