BLAKE could barely concentrate. He must have relived the conversation with Moriah a thousand times, only now he changed the outcome. Instead of being bluntly honest and forcing her to decide between him and her dreams of having a family, he opened the door wider and pulled her inside, into his arms.
Damn. He should have stayed away from her. Because no matter what he’d said, he didn’t really want her to change for him. The image of how she’d looked holding Rasha’s baby daughter wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d been bothered by a strange urge to hold the baby, too, when he’d never experienced anything remotely similar before.
Not every woman possessed the maternal instinct, but Moriah was a natural-born nurturer. Keeping a professional distance while talking to her a few minutes ago in Henri’s room had almost killed him. She’d looked so stoic, so determined to ignore her feelings, he’d almost given in right then and there.
But then he’d remembered his childhood, and his parents. They hadn’t wanted a baby, but he’d arrived on the scene anyway. He supposed they’d tried to adapt to his presence as much as they’d been able to, although his memories of those early years were blurred and faded.
The only clear image he could recall was of the day they’d taken him to the airport to put him on a plane bound for Chicago, where his aunt and uncle had lived. His parents had stood in the small airport, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists, waving at him with wide smiles as the stewardess had taken him by the hand and led him aboard. To this day, he was left with the impression they had been a unit, so tightly paired even a child hadn’t penetrated the bond.
It was a memory that still stuck with him, all these years later. Maybe Moriah was right: being abandoned by his parents had translated to avoiding close, intimate relationships. Until he’d made love with Moriah.
Now she was the only woman he could imagine having the sense of completeness with that his parents must have had. Yet she was the one woman who wouldn’t settle for existing as half of a pair.
A no-win situation, no matter how you looked at it.
Outside José’s room, he paused and braced his hand on the door frame, struggling to breathe around the tightness of his chest. Would he ever get over the feeling his insides were being ripped into shreds? Or would she haunt him for the rest of his life, ruining him for anyone else?
He was afraid he already knew the answer. Straightening, he took a deep breath and walked into José’s room.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. I’d like to go home soon. I need to return to work.” José seemed to be a little more comfortable than the last time he’d checked on him.
“I understand.” Blake took a few minutes to examine his patient, noticing the skin flap looked much better. Another success. He’d write the discharge orders as soon as he was finished making rounds.
He returned an hour later. Seated at the nurses’ station, he’d just signed his name when Moriah rushed in, a determined glint in her eyes. “Blake, I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?” He quickly stood, raking his gaze over her.
“Henri ran away.”
“What?” Blake was astounded by the news. “But why? I thought he’d adapted to life at the orphanage?”
“I thought so, too.” Moriah ran an agitated hand through her hair. “All I know is that he’s gone. One minute he was there, standing beside me while I talked to Rasha and Manuel, then, poof, he’s gone. Vanished. I didn’t know what to do so I came to find you.”
“All right, we’ll both go and look for him. He’s only ten years old, he couldn’t have gone far.”
“I’ve checked the hotel, but that’s all. Finding him will be hard because there are people everywhere, trying to finish the decorations for the festival.”
Blake soon understood what she’d meant. Never had he seen the streets of Trujillo so crowded. There was hardly a car in sight, but everywhere he looked, people were setting up booths, lights and working on the stage for the festival.
“I’m sure he’s not far. I’ll help you look for him.” He recognized a few of the locals from the time he’d helped string up the lanterns and thought about requesting a search party, but figured he’d hold off for now. The boy probably hadn’t gone far. He and Moriah would no doubt find Henri soon.
“It isn’t like him, to take off like this.”
“What was he wearing?” Blake asked her.
“White pants and a red short-sleeved T-shirt.”
“All right, you go south, I’ll head north. We’ll meet here at the statue in twenty minutes.”
Moriah nodded and took off. He headed in the opposite direction from the hotel, looking for anything that might have caught a child’s eye. He quickened his pace when he noticed a whole group of kids gathered in front of what appeared to be a school.
“Henri?” It was hard to tell if a particular boy was there. Most of the children were dressed very much like Henri.
The crowd of kids parted and he saw what they had gathered around: a boy, lying on the ground. His heart jumped into his throat before he realized the supine child wasn’t Henri. Then his expression cleared because Henri was there, using fabric from his pants leg to bind a bleeding cut on the boy’s arm.
“What happened?” Blake pushed his way to the child’s side.
“I saw them fighting and tried to stop it.” Henri’s right eye was puffy, as if he’d gotten in the way of someone’s fist. “They didn’t listen at first, not even when I shouted and shouted. Finally it was different when one of them was hurt. I tried to make a dressing for his arm, like the one you made for me in the hospital.”
Relieved the crisis wasn’t worse, he had to give the kid credit. Henri hadn’t simply taken off, but had instead waded into the thick of things in an effort to help out. He laid a hand on Henri’s shoulder, remembering how the boy had shared his dream of becoming a doctor. “You did a good job with the bandage,” Blake complimented him. “Did he get hit in the head?”
Henri shook his head, but Blake did a quick assessment on the injured child anyway, to make sure there wasn’t something really wrong with him.
“Open your eyes for me,” he said in Spanish. To his relief, the boy’s pupils were equal and reactive. As far as he could tell, there were no other injuries. He turned toward Henri. “Moriah is worried about you, Henri. We need to get this boy to the clinic and let Moriah know you’re fine.”
Henri nodded and between them they got the injured boy to his feet. Other than the cut on his arm, he seemed fine, but Blake intended to get him to the hospital to make sure.
He didn’t see Moriah on the way as he took Henri and the injured boy to the clinic, where the locals took over his care. Blake stayed long enough to make sure he wasn’t needed before he and Henri headed back to the statue in the center of the street, the designated meeting place.
Moriah rushed toward them, her expression a mixture of relief and anger. “Henri! I can’t believe you ran away. Don’t you ever do anything like that again, do you hear me?”
The boy shook his head. “I didn’t run away. I—”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “You took off without saying a word. Do you have any idea how I felt when I noticed you were gone?”
Blake experienced a flash of sympathy for Henri, who couldn’t manage to get a word in on his own behalf. He rested his hands protectively on the boy’s shoulders. “Moriah, listen to him for a minute.”
“Are you defending him?” Her tone sharpened.
Blake wanted to sigh. “All I’m saying is you need to give the kid a chance to tell his side of the story.”
“All right.” She drew a deep breath then crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened, Henri?”
“I saw the kids at the school.” He glanced up at Blake as if seeking support. “I only moved a few feet away from you, so I could see them better. Then I realized one big kid was pushing a smaller kid.”
“And that made you go closer?”
Henri nodded. “I only wanted to help. The bigger kids shouldn’t hurt the littler ones.”
“You wanted to help?” Moriah’s expression betrayed a mixture of hope and disbelief. “You honestly didn’t try to run away? You only wanted to stop the fight?”
He nodded. “At the orphanage, I help take care of the younger kids. They’re not supposed to fight either. But they do.” His exaggerated sigh was so adult-like, Blake had to bite back a smile.
Moriah knelt beside Henri, taking his arms in her hands and looking deep into his eyes. “Tell me the truth, Henri. Are you afraid to go back to the orphanage for some reason? Does anyone hurt you there?”
Henri shook his head emphatically. “No.”
“All right, if you’re sure.” Moriah looked relieved. “Are you ready to go back now?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’m ready to go back.” He ran his hand along the brightly colored ribbons woven into the wrought-iron fences. “But do you think Sister Rita will bring us back on the bus to see the festival? Because, if not, maybe I can stay lost for another day.”
His expression was so earnest, so full of hope, Blake was tempted to help him out. Henri may have been born in Peru, but Blake felt a certain kinship with him just the same. He remembered, too well, how it felt to be the one left out of a party.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, to give Henri a chance to experience one.
“No, absolutely not.” Moriah couldn’t believe Blake actually wanted to keep Henri for another day. “Blake, I promised Sister Rita I’d take him back after he was discharged. Then he scared me by wandering away. Why would I reward his irresponsible behavior?”
“Moriah, he didn’t exactly wander away. The kids at the school caught his eye, he moved closer. You heard him, he only tried to help break up the fight.”
Why Blake’s sudden urge to stand up on Henri’s behalf annoyed her so much was a complete mystery. Although she knew she was overreacting, her hands still shook from the surge of adrenaline she’d experienced when she’d discovered Henri gone. She twisted them together to hide them from view. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she repeated stubbornly.
“All right, we’ll take him back and try to convince Sister Rita to bring all the kids to the festival.” Blake had the audacity to exchange a knowing wink with Henri.
“We?” She raised a brow. “I’m the one who arranged the ride, I’ll take him back. And you shouldn’t make rash promises you may not be able to keep.”
“You’re in no condition to drive, Moriah.” His voice was soft, but she couldn’t mistake the edge of determination underlying his tone. “So if you’re set on taking him back, we’ll take him together.”
He was right, although it galled her to admit it. “Fine. We’ll take him back together.”
“Good. Now, just give me a few minutes to change my clothes.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he gestured to the juice cart across the street. “Get something cold for yourself. Henri, why don’t you come with me? I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”
Henri eagerly went along with Blake. With a sigh she realized she didn’t have much choice but to wait as Blake and Henri disappeared into the hotel.
She bought the three of them a soft drink, then found a place to sit by the statue to drink hers.
The festival preparations continued and she stared at the brightly colored skirts and gauzy tops which she would have been tempted to buy if she hadn’t been so upset.
Sister Rita had placed Henri in her care. She’d only taken her eyes off him for a few minutes, to talk to Rasha and Manuel, when he had suddenly disappeared.
Guilt flooded her. If Henri had been younger, or if something bad had happened to him, she’d never have forgiven herself.
Was this heavy responsibility partly why Blake had decided against having a family himself?
Moriah glanced up when Henri and Blake approached. They were engaged in a serious discussion. Blake was very attractive with his golden hair and tanned skin, emphasized by his white T-shirt and casual tan pants. She was surprised when he and Henri stopped to chat with a couple of the local men for a few minutes, before continuing toward her.
“Are you ready to go?” Blake asked.
She wanted to ask what they had been talking about, but decided they’d asked about the festival. Especially since Blake seemed hell-bent on having the kids from the orphanage attend. “Yes. Here’s your juice.” Moriah handed the soft drinks to them, then gestured to the hotel. “I hope our ride is still available.”
Luckily, the car promised by the Peruvian nurse was still waiting for them in front of the hotel. Gratefully, she took the keys from Freda’s patient hands.
“Thank you so much, Freda. I’ll return the car to you very soon.” Moriah gestured at Henri. “Go on, get in.”
“Do you have any clue how to get there?” Blake asked.
She only had a vague idea, but nodded anyway. “Pretty much. I asked the hotel manager last night for directions.” She’d been too preoccupied with kissing Blake to remember the route Bernardo had taken on the way out to pick Henri up.
“All right. I’ll drive, you navigate.” Blake plucked the keys from her fingers and slid into the driver’s seat.
She supposed it didn’t matter which of them sat behind the wheel, but she had wanted to experience the thrill of driving in Peru for herself. Graciously, she took the passenger seat.
The trip didn’t take long at all since there wasn’t much traffic on the road leading to the orphanage. They passed a few buses, though, one seemingly filled with kids. Henri chatted about the bus ride he’d taken on his last trip to town. According to his version of the story, a swerving taxi had almost crashed into them. He hadn’t been afraid, though. To him, the whole experience had been an adventure.
Sister Rita was waiting for them at the front door. She didn’t dress like a conventional nun, but wore the brightly colored skirts and gauzy blouses the local women favored. Moriah held onto Henri’s shoulder, half expecting him to bolt, but he readily climbed the stairs and greeted the sister with a smile.
“Hola, Sister. Where’s Bonita?” he asked.
“Inside, waiting for you.” Sister Rita stepped back, gesturing for the adults to follow. “Come in, please. Have some juice. I would like to thank you for bringing Henri back and for fixing his hand.”
Obviously the woman hadn’t noticed Henri’s black eye, or she would have known better than to thank her. Still, Moriah wasn’t about to enlighten Sister Rita by telling her how close they’d come to not bringing him back. And she couldn’t shake the suspicion he’d been trying to avoid the orphanage. She forced a smile. “You’re welcome.”
The orphanage was a sprawling stucco ranch-style building, surprisingly cool considering the heat of the desert. Sister Rita led them through a narrow hallway to a spacious kitchen seemingly overflowing with fruit and bread. Henri was already inside and Moriah was surprised to find him hugging a young girl, lifting her off her feet.
“Henri,” the girl squealed. “You’re back! You’re back!”
“Sí, Bonita, I’m back.” After setting her back down, he turned to face them. “Bonita, I’d like you to meet Señor Blake and Señorita Moriah. They are the North American doctors who fixed my hand so I can learn a proper craft.” His smile was so bright, Moriah was nearly blinded by his pride. “This is my little sister, Bonita.”
His sister? Stunned, Moriah could only stare at the two of them. She’d had no idea Henri had a younger sister. But seeing them together now, the family resemblance was remarkable. They had the same lively, dancing eyes, high cheekbones and identical smiles. No sibling rivalry in evidence here, not when she saw the way Henri kept a protective arm around Bonita’s shoulders.
Her suspicion dissolved in a puddle of shame. Good grief. There was no way Henri had ever intended to run away from the orphanage. She could tell by his actions that he’d never leave his little sister behind.
And she knew why. Because siblings stuck together, no matter what.