Page 55 of Serenity Harbor

Bowie had to say, this was probably one of the more enjoyable hours he had spent with his brother. He still felt completely overwhelmed with the responsibility of caring for a special needs brother, but he was beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some chance they could build a future together.

“Kat?” Milo said suddenly, out of the blue. Okay, not really out of the blue, since he had brought up Katrina’s name at least every fifteen or twenty minutes.

From those first fledgling sounds the week before, Milo now had a vocabulary of about fifteen words. Katrina had also taught him a few basic sign language signs, such as “more” and “all done.”

“She’s not here, remember?” Bowie said, giving him a patient smile. “She had to go to her sister’s wedding, but we’ll see her later tonight when we go to the reception. The party afterward,” he explained.

He suspected Milo wouldn’t have any frame of reference to understand what a wedding or a reception might be.

“Kat,” Milo repeated.

Bowie sighed, wondering how many times today he was going to have to explain the situation to his brother. “She’s not here,” he repeated. “She should be back tomorrow morning, after the wedding.”

In answer, his brother pointed to the door just seconds before it opened and Katrina rushed inside, all pink and glowing and luscious in a plum-colored dress that swirled with every step.

She stopped short when she spotted them both at the table. “Oh. Hi.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere right about now?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’m an idiot. I must have left my shoes here this morning when I was in such a rush to get out the door. If I had my choice, I would wear my flip-flops, but I doubt Charlene would approve.”

She extended one foot wearing sparkly nail polish and a silvery flip-flop. Bowie’s sudden wild desire to grab her foot and kiss each glittering toe seemed wholly inappropriate with his brother sitting next to him.

He and Katrina had taken great care to stay out of each other’s way the previous week, since that stunning kiss in this very kitchen.

Though he tried to convince himself of all the reasons he shouldn’t be attracted to her, he still went to sleep each night aching with desire and haunted by the knowledge that she was sleeping only steps away. He had grown to crave the few moments in the morning and evening when he could see her and talk to her before one or the other of them would find a reason to escape.

“Shoes. Right,” he managed to say now. “I can grab them for you.”

She shook her head. “I’m going to have to find them, since I can’t tell you exactly where they might be. I thought they were in my bag, but somehow they didn’t make it to my mom’s house. I must have left them in my room.”

She hurried down the hall, and Milo, clearly delighted to see her, jumped up and raced after her. Though he still didn’t give a full-fledged smile, his eyes had a brightness to them that hadn’t been there since she left that morning, even when he was busy with the marshmallow and pretzel stick creations.

Bowie was aware of a pang of misgiving as he slid his chair away from the table and followed after the two of them. He wasn’t the only Callahan who was crazy about Katrina. Milo adored her. He hung on her every word and had worked incredibly hard at whatever she asked of him.

Katrina had been tireless in working with him, with a deep patience Bowie could only envy, and she deserved every bit of credit for any progress Milo might have made over the last week.

What would his brother do when Katrina returned to South America to finalize her adoption? Her time in Haven Point was drawing to a close. She was supposed to be leaving in only a little more than a week, and the thought of her leaving filled him with dread.

Bowie worried that Milo had become so attached to Katrina that he would revert back to his old withdrawn self after she left. He had to hope his brother would respond just as favorably to the autism specialist Debra Peters when she arrived a few days before Katrina was set to leave Haven Point.

He had a few days to worry about that, Bowie decided. Better to focus now on the problem at hand. He followed after both of them, on the off chance that he might be of some help finding her shoes. When he reached the doorway, he spotted Katrina bent down, shapely rear end in the air as she dug through her closet.

“They were here,” she wailed. “I swear they were right here! I picked them up out of the closet and placed them in the bag. So why weren’t they inside when I got to my mom’s place?”

“Are you sure? Maybe you set them down somewhere there.”

“I looked everywhere. And to be honest, I have no memory of seeing them again after I set them inside the bag this morning.” Her eyes were wide with panic. “Where can they be?”

“They’ve got to be here somewhere. Milo, help us look. Katrina needs her shoes. Shoes.” To reinforce the point, he pointed to her flip-flops.

If he hadn’t happened to glance at his brother at that moment, he might have missed the odd look that flashed in Milo’s eyes, a mixture of understanding, wariness and something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

Bowie suddenly had a random memory of something that had happened earlier in the day, before he had come up with the marshmallow construction idea, when he had gone looking for a too-quiet Milo. He had walked into his brother’s bedroom in time to see Milo shove something under his bed.

He should have investigated then.

“Milo,” he pressed, “do you know anything about Katrina’s shoes?”

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