Page 89 of Serenity Harbor

“Probably not.” She gave a smile that was a little too wide and polished to be completely natural. “If you find anything else of mine, I would be grateful if you would drop it at my mother’s place. She can either hold it for me or send it on.”

That blade gouging into his heart gave another half turn. “Of course.”

“What time is Debra due to arrive?”

“She spent the night in Nevada after leaving her previous job in San Jose. When she emailed last night from Winnemucca, she said she expected to arrive shortly after two.”

That sense of helplessness swirled through him again, that useless wish that he could convince her not to leave.

He couldn’t give in to it. “I’m expecting her any minute now. If you need to go now, I’m here. You don’t have to stay until she arrives.”

She raised an eyebrow with a look that plainly told him she wondered if he was trying to get rid of her.Never, he wanted to tell her.Please don’t leave.

“I would like to stay until she arrives, if you don’t mind. I’d like to go over my educational methods and where I’ve seen the most success with him.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

She smiled a little, making that knife twist another half turn.

He had never been in love before. So far, it basically sucked.

“Would you be okay if I took Milo for one more walk while we’re waiting?”

The prospect ofdoingsomething instead of sitting here waiting held vast appeal. He rose. “I’ll come with you.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes, and she opened her mouth as if to argue. After a moment, she closed it again and shrugged.

“Would you like to go feed the ducks?” she asked Milo.

Bo’s brother pursed his lips as if his answer had the weight of a nuclear disarmament treaty. After a moment, he nodded with great gravitas.

When they walked outside, Bowie thought again that the air had a heavy, expectant quality and the sky was a strange color—not quite green, not quite purple but somewhere in between.

“We’re supposed to have a big storm this evening with heavy wind,” she said. “You may want to put away the patio umbrellas.”

“I’ll do that.”

Under other circumstances, he might have credited the impending storm for this restlessness in him, but he knew better. It was all tangled up in the woman walking beside him and this painful tenderness scraping his insides raw.

“What have you heard from Colombia and the adoption? Anything new?”

She released a frustrated-sounding breath. “Crickets. It’s making me crazy. I’ve sent a half-dozen emails marked Urgent to my attorney. I’ve texted him and tried calling, and he’s not answering anything. The moment I get off the airplane, I’m heading straight for his office to make him tell me what’s going on. I’m going there first, before I even go to the orphanage to see Gabi.”

At the distress in her voice, he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her—or at least to reach for her hand and walk along beside her, with her fingers tucked inside his.

It would have made such an ordinary yet appealing picture: a man and a woman holding hands on a lake trail as a young boy walked ahead of them.

Instead, he mouthed the only platitude he could think of in the moment. “I’m sure everything will work out,” he said. For her, anyway. At least she could have everything she wanted.

“Thanks,” she answered.

The rest of the way to Redemption Bay, they talked about inconsequential things while Milo stopped every few hundred yards to throw a rock or a leaf or a pinecone into the flat water.

They were on their way back when his phone beeped a text message. He pulled it out with a vague feeling of dread that was confirmed when he read it.

“That’s the autism specialist,” he said after he had answered Debra Peters. “She’s on the outskirts of town and should be at the house momentarily.”

If he hadn’t been watching, he might have missed the brief twist of her features, a hint of shadow in her eyes. Was she regretting her decision to return to Colombia? Would she miss them?

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