The Soldier's Forever Family. Gina Wilkins
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Was it possible she...? No. Adam pictured Simon’s face again and doubted it was coincidence that the kid was his spitting image.
“She just happened to show up at the resort where you work almost exactly six years after you met here? With a child who could be your son?”
Clearing his throat, Adam nodded. “From what little I could determine in a very brief encounter, yes, that’s her story.”
“Should we put Walt on alert?”
Walt was another of their friends. Another veteran. And an attorney.
After a moment, Adam shook his head. While he understood and appreciated Trevor’s concern, he preferred to handle his own problems as much as possible. “Not yet, thanks. I need to talk to Joanna first. Find out what’s going on.”
“That’s fair. So...how do you feel about all this, Adam? Are you okay?”
He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that one. He was still reeling, still a long way from coming to terms with the potential consequences of this morning’s shock. “I guess I’m kind of numb. Not sure how I feel about it yet. Like I said, I need to talk with Joanna.”
“And if the boy is your son?”
His son. The very words sent a tangle of emotions through him that he couldn’t begin to identify. As much as he hated to admit it, he suspected fear was among the strongest ones.
“I’ll deal with it.”
Somehow.
* * *
THE CHAUFFEURED VAN for the field trip was already parked beneath the spacious porte cochere of the guest relations building when Joanna and Simon made the short walk from their suite. In addition to the concierge desk, a soaring lobby and a well-stocked bar, this large, three-story structure held a coffee and pastry shop with patio seating, an arcade, a tech center, conference rooms and an extensive gift shop. The management offices were located on the top floor.
The three guest-quarters buildings were all designed in a style similar to this one, distinguished by thematic names—Seafoam Lodge, Sandy Shore Lodge and Gull’s Nest Lodge. Joanna had stayed in Gull’s Nest during her previous visit but had specifically requested Seafoam this time, only partially because it provided the best views.
Another boy and four girls clustered around the van, getting to know each other and the teachers who would escort them to the aquarium. Simon appeared to be the youngest of the group, or at least the smallest, but he was accustomed to that. The other boy seemed relieved not to be so outnumbered now.
Joanna spoke with both the teachers and a few other parents hanging around to make sure the van got away safely. She was pleased to see her son and the other boy talking, their heads bent over the shell in Simon’s hand as Simon shared everything he’d learned about lettered olives that morning. The other boy seemed interested, and one of the girls edged closer to listen, so Joanna was reassured that Simon would make friends here.
Two men stepped out of the building, both dressed in the emerald polo shirts and lightweight khaki pants that identified them as staff of Wind Shadow Resort. One was Trevor Farrell, the owner. Though she hadn’t seen him since arriving late yesterday, she recognized him from her previous stay.
Adam stood at Trevor’s side. They made a striking pair, both tanned and fit, Adam dark-haired and gray-eyed, Trevor a fraction taller, his hair lighter, his eyes blue. They wore the same basic uniform as all the resort staff, but it was obvious to her, at least, that these men were in charge. She wondered what Adam’s job was and when he’d started it. He certainly looked at home.
She was having a hard time drawing her eyes away from him. But then, she’d had that same issue last time, too. As it had before, his smile made her heart race. She hoped her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.
Ever the gracious host, Trevor stopped to greet the assemblage. “Good afternoon,” he said, his smile pleasant and practiced. “Getting ready to leave for the aquarium?”
One of the teachers, whose nametag identified her as Miss Deborah, grinned and nodded, making her blond ponytail sway. “We’re just about to load the van. As you can see, the children are excited.”
“I know you’ll have a great time,” Trevor assured them, then glanced at the cluster of parents. “For those I haven’t met yet, I’m Trevor Farrell, and this is my associate, Adam Scott. If there’s anything we or any of the staff can do for you during your stay, I hope you won’t hesitate to ask.”
Joanna chewed her lower lip as Trevor and Adam moved among the group, shaking hands and making small talk. She clasped her hands in front of her, wishing there was a way to make a quick escape before they came to her.
As the other children were being strapped into the van, Simon broke away to rush back toward her, holding out the shell. “Will you keep this for me, Mom? I don’t want to lose it.”
“Of course.”
Trevor and Adam reached them then. Adam’s expression was inscrutable behind his nonrevealing, professional smile.
Trevor spoke first. “Ms. Zielinski. What a pleasure to see you again.”
“You, too, Mr. Farrell.” Did he really remember her, or had Adam alerted him?
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Adam’s attention was focused on Simon. Her fingers tightened around the shell until the edges dug into her palm. She loosened her grip before she crushed the treasure entrusted to her care.
“I’m Simon,” her son piped up excitedly. “I’m going to the aquarium.”
Trevor glanced down automatically. Joanna saw his smile flicker slightly when he studied the boy. She figured the resemblance to Adam had to be obvious to anyone, and especially to someone who apparently now knew Adam well. “Hello, Simon. It’s very nice to meet you. I hope you have a great time.”
Simon looked eagerly at Adam. “Did you know the lettered olive shell comes from a predatory snail that eats small crust—crust—?”
“Crustaceans,” Joanna supplied quietly. He probably would have come up with the word on his own, but he was being summoned by the other ponytailed teacher, Miss Molly. Joanna gave him a gentle nudge. “They’re waiting for you, Simon. Have fun. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
“A predatory snail?” Trevor murmured, watching as Simon dashed toward the van. “And he’s only five?”
Joanna was accustomed to this question when people heard her son speak. “He’s academically advanced for his age.”
“I would say so. Cute kid.” Trevor’s expression revealed little of his thoughts.
“Thank you.”
Adam shifted a step closer to Joanna. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay, Trev?”
Trevor nodded and turned to leave without further comment. The van drove away with the eager children waving from the windows, and their parents scattered. Joanna was left alone with Adam for the first time since he’d crept out of