Page 63 of Ambush

Something struck her. “Blake, the baby clothes are blue. I’m an only child. Could this belong to someone else?”

He picked up the baby book and flipped it open. His mouth sagged as he read the first page before he turned it around to show her. “Brace yourself, Paradise.”

Andrew James Bartley.

“Bartley is Mom’s maiden name.”

“I remember.”

She touched the line under it. “Born May 1, 1989. Just over five years before me.” The implications hit her. “I have a half brother? Where is he?”

“That’s the big question, isn’t it? Did he die? Did she give him up for adoption? Maybe Lily would know.”

Her lungs felt stuffed with cotton, and she couldn’t pull in oxygen. All this time she’d thought she had no one. What if she had a brother out there? Everything could change. If he was alive, did he know about her? And if he did, why had he never contacted her?

“I—I can’t take it all in.” The last items remaining in the tub were the letters, and she reached for them. Her fingers fumbled with the ribbon, and Blake had to take the packet from her numb fingers and untie the knot.

“You want me to read one first?” When she nodded, he took the first envelope and extracted two handwritten pages.

She watched his expression as he scanned the letter, but he didn’t show any sign of emotion.

“It’s a female’s handwriting, all in cursive. And she only signed a single initial.” He turned the page around for her to see the largeAscrawled at the bottom of the second page. “I think it’s a letter from whoever adopted Andrew.”

She had a brother. The knowledge tipped her world on its axis.

***

No matter how many times Blake searched for Andrew James Bartley, no leads popped up on his laptop screen. “I’m beginning to think his new parents changed his name.”

They’d read all the letters, each one detailing milestones in the child’s life—first step, first word, first time riding a tricycle, firstday of kindergarten. But no hints as to who had adopted him. The few pictures showed the inside of buildings with no clue to location. There was no return address on the envelopes, and the post office stamp was Atlanta. It was a clue, but not one that helped much since the city was so large.

The clock on the wall sounded twelve times, and he yawned. Six would come way too soon, but he was too wired to sleep. And going to bed meant leaving Paradise, something he wasn’t ready to do yet. He couldn’t get enough of being with her. Ever since the tiger incident, she was different. More hopeful, warmer, and more willing to be with him.

He longed for the day the mystery was behind them and he could talk, really talk, with all their barriers down. The day was coming—he could sense it like skies clearing after a storm.

Her yawn followed his, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “All we know is the letters were mailed from Atlanta.”

“Yep.” He could stay like this forever. Her faint plumeria scent settled in his lungs with a familiarity he never wanted to change, and the warmth of her pressed against his side was a comforting weight. It rattled his composure, and he had to struggle not to embrace her and tip her lips up for a kiss.

Soon, soon.

The reminder checked him, but it took determination to listen to his inner barometer.

“We should go to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow. I’ve got an otter with a likely heart problem I need to address after church, and I want to check on Rosy again. I think another fennec fox is picking on her. I might need to separate them.”

“Your cousin comes to our church, and we could grab her after service before you go to work.”

“That’s a great idea. I thought I’d wake up early and putsomething in the Crock-Pot for dinner. Your mom is worn out, and I want to start helping out with home chores.”

He couldn’t resist wrapping his arm around her and pulling her tight against his side. “Not many people would notice that. You’re a good person, Paradise Alden.” He rested his chin on her hair and pulled in another lungful of her plumeria scent. He’d never met anyone else who smelled like her—sweetness and light all wrapped up in a beautiful package.

One little kiss couldn’t hurt, right?

Unable to resist, he touched her chin, and her face turned toward his without resistance. Her eyes radiated a calm promise that kicked his heart rate into high gear. He bent his head to capture her lips before she changed her mind. Her hand stole up to cup the back of his head, and he deepened the kiss. She gave a half sob, and he froze until she nestled closer.

When their lips parted, her hand moved to his cheek. “I wish I hadn’t stayed mad at you so long. I should have come back as soon as I was of age.”

“I should have gone to find you instead of escaping to the Marines.”

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