A Mother's Love - By Dawn Stewardson Page 0,3

the coffee table and said, “Both Robbie’s parents were killed in an earthquake. In Guatemala. He was just a baby at the time.”

When she didn’t reply, merely sat gazing at him, he decided that the more details she figured he knew the quicker she’d back off from whatever her game was.

“The quake left hundreds of children orphaned,” he elaborated. “And a lot of them ended up being adopted in the U.S. Robbie only remained in Guatemala for a few weeks afterward. Then he was flown here and placed with my wife and me.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “It’s all in the report. The adoptions were arranged by Worldwide Child Rescue and...” She shrugged. “But you know that as well as I do. What you don’t know is that Rodger Spicer has spent the past three years tracking Benjamin down.”

“Three years,” Hank repeated. “That’s roughly how long I’ve had Robbie. Since he was about six months old.”

“Yes, well... The Worldwide people weren’t exactly cooperative. They did everything they could to prevent Rodger from accessing their records. But child by child, court order by court order, he...”

She paused, then continued. “Some of the babies they brought here came from an orphanage in Guatemala City. And Benjamin was one of them. He shouldn’t have been, though. There was a mix-up, and...

“You see, my husband was killed in the quake, but I was only injured. And Benjamin was taken to the orphanage—to be cared for while I was hospitalized.

“Only, somehow the sisters mixed him up with another baby and turned him over to Worldwide.”

Hank could feel panic growing inside him. What if Robbie really was her son? If he was, there was only one reason she’d have come here. To get him back!

But no. That report had to be wrong.

“Look, I’m sorry you lost your child. And your husband,” he managed to say evenly. “I can only imagine what that’s put you through. But this...”

His gaze flickered to the document. “Your Rodger Spicer’s made a mistake.”

“No, he hasn’t,” she said gently. “Robbie has a birthmark on the left side of his neck, doesn’t he? Just above his shoulder. My baby had a birthmark there.”

His heart pounding, Hank glanced over at the photos on the mantel. “You saw that three minutes ago, when you were looking at those,” he said, turning back to her.

“I don’t think it shows in any of them.”

Did it?

He’d seen the pictures a thousand times, yet right this minute he was so upset he couldn’t answer his own question.

“Then you know about it from the report,” he said.

Natalie shook her head. “I’ve always known. It’s one of the identifying features I was able to tell Rodger about way back in the beginning.

“Robbie has Benjamin’s birthmark,” she reiterated quietly. “And according to his medical records he has the same blood type as my son. And—”

“Fine. Your P.I.’s poked around and come up with enough coincidences to build a case. But that’s a long way from proving—”

“Hank, it isn’t only the birthmark and the blood type and Robbie’s age. Most Guatemalans have a darker complexion than Benjamin does, and...if you read the report... There’s no mistake. I’m his mother. A simple DNA test will prove that.

“In fact, I spoke to someone at a private lab in Englewood. If you’ll agree to take Robbie there, we can both be tested and have a definitive answer within twenty-four hours.”

He pushed himself out of his chair and paced across the room—his heart pounding harder still.

Of course he’d agree. He’d take Robbie tomorrow, and hope to hell the test would prove Spicer had arrived at the wrong conclusion. But deep down his fear was telling him that wasn’t going to happen.

One by one, he scrutinized the photos on the mantel and discovered Natalie was right. The birthmark didn’t show in any of them. And if she’d actually told Spicer about it in the beginning, this was no scam. It was the real thing.

He turned and stood gazing at her. There were no striking similarities between her features and Robbie’s, but their eyes were the identical shade of brown. And something about the way she held her head...

But if she was Robbie’s mother, he was at risk of losing his child. The thought made his chest feel hollow.

“Maybe if you just looked at the report,” she murmured.

As much to give himself some breathing space as anything else, he walked back over, picked it up and began flipping through the pages.

The document was exhaustive, even contained a brief description of his