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“No, thanks.” The darkness of his voice shivered across her skin. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to know what happened to my brother.” Imperceptibly his mouth softened. “Other than dying.”
Savanna remained beside the TV cabinet. “He and Elke were heading for Comayagua. They had scheduled to meet with a doctor, an internist, an expert in colon problems. Dennis had a patient who needed part of his large intestine removed and this surgeon was one he trusted to do the operation.”
She caught herself wringing her hands, and moved to sit in the chair across the coffee table, across from the man who was now, by all technicalities, Christopher’s father. “Elke went along. Originally she had planned to stay home, but Dennis—” Savanna studied her fingernails; they needed clipping “—Dennis wanted them to have some time alone together, just the two of them. They were seldom able to get away as a couple. Life in Central America is not easy, Mr. Rubens. Especially not with…”
Christopher. She held his gaze, determined to impress on him that his brother and sister-in-law were neither whimsical nor flighty. Nor irresponsible.
Dennis was not like the man who sat four feet away—according to the tales she had heard from her best friend.
“The bodies?” he asked.
“The crash…” She swallowed hard. Concentrated on kinder images of her friends. “It burned.” To cinders. “We held a small memorial yesterday.”
For a long time he stared at his hands clasped between his knees. A black-banded wristwatch edged from the jacket’s left cuff. “Where’s the boy?”
She sensed Will Rubens wanted to get up and pace. Or leave the room. Go home.
“Christopher’s sleeping.” She inclined her head. “In there.”
“He’s here?” Rubens darted a look left. “You brought him to Alaska?” Are you crazy? His eyes burned with the words.
Savanna aligned her shoulders. “Yes, I brought him. He’s the reason I’m here and why we’re having this conversation. Your brother’s last request was for Christopher to live with you in the event he and Elke—” Oh, God. “In the event they…died before their son was of an independent age.”
Alarmed, Rubens sat back. “Are you kidding? I can’t take the kid. I fly people into the wilderness all summer, and skiers and boarders up mountains in the winter. Who’s going to look after him when I’m gone on those trips?” Abruptly he rose to pace from TV to hallway. Back and forth. Scraping a hand through his hair. Muttering, “I can’t do it. The time schedule…”
“Mr. Rubens, if you could calm yourself…”
He barked a laugh. “Calm myself? Lady, first you inform me my brother and his wife are dead, then you tell me I’ve inherited their kid. How do you expect me to react?”
“With responsibility,” she retorted.
His head jerked. “You think I’m not responsible? Do you have any idea what it takes to fly into a mountain range with six people aboard a helicopter?”
The way Dennis and Elke had four days ago. “Yes,” she said steadily. “I do. And, please. Could you speak with a normal tone? You’ll wake Christopher with your shouting.”
He stopped, once more running a hand through his shaggy hair. “I wasn’t shouting.”
“Your voice is raised.”
“I wasn’t shouting,” he repeated stubbornly.
“Okay. We agree to disagree. Let that be the only thing.”
A snort. She ignored it. “What matters at the moment is that you are now Christopher’s guardian.” And father.
He continued to pace. “Why the hell would Dennis make this—this request when I don’t know the first thing about kids.”
“But you do,” she said patiently. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she might have laughed at his expression. “You used to volunteer for Big Brothers, although you stopped that a couple of years ago when you got involved coaching Little League teams during the daylight season.”
His blue eyes pinned her. “Been busy, have you?”
Gossiping, his gaze accused. Except, she hadn’t; she hated idle chatter. “Shane down at the desk volunteered the information.” She lifted a brow. “Your fishing buddy?”
And Elke. Elke had told her more than Savanna wanted to know about the notorious freewheeling Will Rubens.
He grunted. “Shane’s flapping his gums, as usual.”
She had no idea what Shane’s “usual” was. “Don’t blame him. I made some inquiries before I set out on this trip.” Like contacting Elke’s grandmother and longtime resident, Georgia Martin, as well as Starlight’s mayor, Max Shepherd. “I was not about transfer a ten-year-old from the only home he’s known to this frozen tundra without investigating who he’d be living with for the next decade.” She gestured to the rust-colored sofa. “Would you please sit down so we can go over the issues?”
“What are you, a teacher?” he grumbled, but did as she requested.
“Actually, I teach special-needs students, though I began in ESL—English as a second language.” She hesitated, then decided if they were to get on the same page, he had to know the wheres and whys of her history with his family. “Elke and I were roommates at Stanford and became best friends. It didn’t matter that she married Dennis, we continued to keep in touch through the years. Then I moved to Cedros and began teaching there.” She paused, letting this brother absorb the information. “When Christopher went into third grade, Elke and Dennis asked me to set up a behavior intervention program for him.”
“Behavior intervention?” Rubens shot a look toward the bedroom as if Christopher might appear, fangs bared. “Like those nannies on TV?”
“No, I assist children with Autistic Spectrum Disorders, or ASD as we know it.”
His head came around slowly. “Autistic…?”
“Yes,” she confirmed so there would be no mistake. “As you probably know, Christopher has Asperger’s Syndrome. It’s a form of ASD. A milder form,” she added when he set his hands on his knees, ready to spring into a mode of action. “But autism nonetheless.”
“Dennis never said anything about autism.”
Savanna couldn’t look away. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rubens. Maybe they were afraid to tell you.”
“I’m his brother.” He shook his head slightly. “Was his brother.” Again the blueness of his eyes startled her. “He should have told me.”
Oh, Dennis, she thought. Why didn’t you forewarn him? The child is his, after all. “Yes, he should have.” The omitted fact spoke more than she wanted to consider about Will Rubens.
Again, he scraped at his hair. The result left a rumpled look she imagined he saw in the mirror each morning. She looked away.
“Guess I had that coming,” he continued. “Dennis and I…our relationship went by the wayside after—Ah, hell. Look, Ms. Stowe. I can’t look after the boy…Christopher. My work takes me miles from home and it’s dangerous. Anything can happen to a helicopter in the mountains. And besides, my place…my life isn’t set up for kids, never mind one with problems. Have my brother’s lawyer contact me and I’ll arrange to give him complete permission to put the boy into foster care or adopted into a loving and trustworthy family.”
“Mr. Rubens—”
“Will. Please.” Suddenly his head swung left and his body jerked.
Christopher stood in the bedroom doorway, hands fluttering at his sides. He had removed his pajamas, put on the jeans and blue sweatshirt he’d worn during today’s trip. His sneakers were laced.
A stream of accelerated speech poured from his mouth. “Anything-can-happen-to-a-helicopter-in-the-mountains.”
Rubens released a throaty sound. The boy turned. “Daddy?”
Oh, God, he’d mistaken Will for Dennis. Savanna grabbed her copy of the laminated agenda and hurried to the boy. “Christopher. This is your Uncle Will. Remember I told you—” a hundred times “—that we were coming to Alaska to see your uncle? This is him.”
As Christopher rushed forward to crowd her space and look straight into her eyes, a small thrill struck her heart. In the past two days he hadn’t made eye contact with her once. He’d been anxious and worried and disoriented, wholly out of his routine.
“Savanna! How come Uncle Will looks like Dad?”
“Because he’s his brother.” Even though he’s much taller and bigger and his eyes are another color. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay, pal? Now it’s time for bed.” She held up the agenda, pointed to the tenth number. “See. Bedtime. Take off your day clothes and put on your pajamas.”
“Oh, yeah.” He turned and disappeared back into the bedroom.
“Excuse us,” she said to Rubens and followed Christopher.
She was helping the boy back under the covers when Dennis’s brother came to the door. “Anything I can do?” he asked.
“We’re almost done.”
“He always like that?”
She shot him a look. “I’ll be right out, Mr. Rubens. Then we’ll talk.”
Big and bold, he remained leaning in the doorway with those watchful eyes. She turned away, though the skin beneath her sweater grew uncomfortably warm. The man was like no other she’d met. Yes, she had known overconfident, arrogant males—she’d seen them in the Third World carrying guns—but Will Rubens needed no gun. His confidence stemmed from an innate source.
After tucking the covers around Christopher, she leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Go to sleep, pal. Get a good night’s rest.”
The boy closed his eyes. For several moments, she watched him, waiting. His mouth drooped, emitting the little snore; he was asleep.
She brushed back his hair—the aged-gold shade of his father’s—and dropped a kiss on the child’s temple. Christopher disliked hugs and kisses unless he initiated them, so Savanna contented herself with these sweet furtive rituals.
“Wow, fast sleeper.” Rubens spoke from the doorway where he still lounged. “Wish I was so lucky.”
“He wasn’t always as quick. Prior to his eighth birthday, he had a hard time falling asleep. The slightest noise would wake him.” She walked to where Rubens stood backlit by the soft glow of the lamps in the living quarters. Hands in rear pockets, he leaned against the doorjamb, comfortable with studying her. She hugged her waist.
Quietly he said, “Never heard someone repeat entire sentences like that.”
“He’s very bright, Mr. Rubens. You might say he’s gifted. But he’s still autistic, which means his development is not the same as most children. For example, if you asked him to name a very small item, he might say the electrons around the nucleus of a helium atom.”
“Really?” Awe gripped his voice.
“Really.”
He looked past her. “Sounds like he’s pretty special.”
“He’s incredible.”
Ruben’s attention reverted to Savanna. “You love him.”
She didn’t waver. “With all my heart.”
For a long moment he held her in place with his eyes. “How long did you work for my brother?”
“Three years. Initially it was a couple times a week, but because Elke was like a sister…” She looked back at the bed. “When he was born, they asked me to be Chris’s godmother.”
He didn’t respond. Not a flicker of an eyelash.
“Anyway,” she continued, disquieted with his scrutiny, “Elke cut back her hours at the clinic to be with Christopher in the afternoon. I taught her how to handle his behaviors, to work with routines.” And a thousand other strategies Savanna couldn’t explain in one evening.
“Why did it take so long before he was diagnosed?”
“They suspected something was amiss when Chris was three. He hadn’t started talking yet, and when he finally did, it was mostly repetitive. He also didn’t play with your typical toys, like trucks and cars.” She sighed. “At first, Elke tried to deal with the situation on her own, but she found it…exceedingly difficult.” She released a heavy breath. “That’s when I came into the picture.”
Still he did not let her pass through the doorway, and his eyes snared her with that dawn-dusk blue. “I’ve never worked with kids like him,” he said.
“Then you’ll learn.”
He pushed away, walked to the suite’s entry door. “Have the lawyer contact me, Ms. Stowe. I’ll make the arrangements for you to take the boy back to the Outside.”
“Mr. Rubens—”
He turned, eyes hard. “You have my number. Call me in the morning and we’ll discuss it further. Good night.” Stepping into the hotel corridor, he pulled the door closed.
Savanna’s heart thudded in her chest. From what she had observed, Will Rubens was not Dennis. He was not gentle or compassionate or caring. Instead she had brought Christopher into an environment far from conducive to his optimum upbringing. How could she leave him with this man, this brother who was the inversion of the one she’d come to respect and admire?
Dennis, how could you have been so reckless?
But she knew why he’d done it. She understood his reasoning to bring Christopher without warning.
Dennis had relied on his memories. On the one factor that made Will Rubens human. With Christopher, he’d gifted his brother part of his heart.
Chapter Two
Will tossed the keys to the SUV onto the kitchen counter. Beyond the window above the sink, a clear moon cut an icy hole in the starry night.
What was he going to do about the kid—hell, the woman? How could she have brought the boy so far north without checking with him first? And Dennis…what the hell was he thinking? Had been thinking…?
God, his brother. For two long minutes Will leaned his hands on the counter and hung his head, battling the tears, knowing grief and guilt would lie on his soul for years. Dennis, his lone sibling, the one person in the world who had taken a seventeen-year-old Will under his wing when their mother died. The last remaining part of Will’s blood, the only part he had loved beyond words. Wasn’t that why he’d offered the child when Dennis explained his sterility?
I love you, man, Will had told his brother the moment the notion entered his mind. Let me do this for you, okay?
And so they had. Amidst the fighting between Elke and her mother and grandmother. In the end, Elke had won, had conceived, but Dennis had taken her away from Alaska forever.
God almighty, why hadn’t he been more communicative? Will thought for the millionth time. Called more often? Invited his brother back for some fishing or trail biking? Things they’d done in younger years.
Dammit, these days with e-mail and instant messaging the excuses were just that. Excuses.
And now it was too late. Too late for Will and Dennis—but worst of all, too late for the kid.
His phone blinked another message. He hit Play. “Hey Will,” Josh’s youthful voice exclaimed. “Thought you’d be home by now. Well…um…I had tons of fun tonight. Even though you yell and scream a lot and pitch like a girl.” Will’s mouth twitched. “Juuust kiddin’. Thanks, Will. See ya Saturday.”
Saturday. Three days from now Will would be standing in the dugout with Josh’s Little League team, coaching and handing out last-minute instructions and pep talks.
Sixty minutes, that’s all Will had given Josh tonight.
Guilt, the damn gut clincher.
The kid hadn’t said a word, but Will knew disappointment. Josh had hoped for more than a few practice pitches and hits in Starlight Park. He’d counted on Will taking him for a soda at Pete’s Burgers. Instead Will opted to drop the boy off early at his mother’s house. Which was another problem. Valerie had met him at the door with her hungry eyes and sweet, begging smile.
