Page 63 of Serenity Harbor

“Don’t remind me.”

She gave him a sharp look. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“I’m having a hard enough time with my mother pouring on the guilt about my choices every time I talk to her. I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure his words were completely truthful.

“You knew this was temporary from the beginning.”

“Yes. I only meant he cares a great deal for you and you’ve been wonderful for him. He’s made amazing progress the last few weeks. Can you blame me for wanting to see that continue?”

“I have obligations, Bowie. Places I have to be. I thought you understood that. My daughter is waiting for me. I care about Milo and wish I could stay longer, but it’s simply not possible.”

“I know that,” he said.

“Do you?”

“You bring up Gabriela about every time you talk to me. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re trying to remind me or yourself.”

He could see at once that was the wrong thing to say. She drew back as if he had slapped her.

“Kat. I’m sorry.”

“I need to return to the reception.” Now she was the one who spoke in a stiff voice, so tight it was a wonder she could get the words out. “Thank you again for coming and sharing in this joyful day.”

She turned around and hurried away in a flurry of flip-flops and plum silk, leaving him to wonder why he acted like an ass every single time he talked to her.

* * *

“DAHHHS,” MILOSAID,tugging at her arm Thursday afternoon, nearly a week after Wynona and Cade were married.

The day was cloudy, with a low pressure system hanging over the area and wind tossing the lake into a froth of whitecaps. Katrina had a headache brewing, too, gathering just as surely as those clouds.

She really hoped the rain predicted for the area would hit and then move out before the weekend, when crowds would gather to celebrate Lake Haven Days in town.

“Give me five minutes, okay? I have to finish this email first before we go to McKenzie’s house for you to see her dogs, Hondo and Rika. They’ll still be there in a few minutes. Can you play with your cars until I’m done?”

He gave his put-upon look of disgust but plopped down on the floor of the family room next to the kitchen and started running his favorite purple car around the edge of the rug.

Katrina returned to her email, fairly sure she wore the same look of disgust as she gazed at the message on her laptop screen. Her headache gathered steam as she read the contents one more time.

According to Angel Herrera, they had to file yet another form with the Colombian national adoption agency, which would result in, naturally, more fees and yet more foot-dragging.

Katrina wanted to cry—to weep and scream and break something. Or lots of somethings.

Her daughter was slipping away from her and she didn’t know how to fix it, and she was so tired of fighting this fight.

You bring up Gabriela about every time you talk to me. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re trying to remind me or yourself.

Bowie’s words had haunted her all week. Maybe she was as flighty as everyone thought. She told herself she wanted nothing as much as to have her daughter with her, but she couldn’t seem to figure out a way to break through all the roadblocks in her way.

She returned to her reply email, which seemed wholly inadequate to convey the depth of her fear.

I have met every requirement asked of me, including providing all additional funds as requested. If you are unable to bring this matter to a satisfactory conclusion for all parties, perhaps I need to begin looking for another agency that can better meet my needs.

It was an empty threat, and Angel Herrera had to know it. She couldn’t afford the time or resources to start all over. But she also couldn’t let him continue extorting money from her and dragging out the proceedings. A child’s future was at stake.

---