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Will touched her cheek, a whispered stroke shivering her to her heels.
“First,” he said softly, “if I’m attracted to a woman, it’s who she is that appeals. And–” his fingers slipped to her nape and tugged her forwards “– caveman or not, I’m very into you. So let’s see where it takes us, right?”
He would kiss her. Oh, Lord.
But no.
A peck against her forehead. A touch so light it mimicked the flit of a hummingbird’s wing.
When had a man offered sensuality to that degree?
Not once. Not once in her memory.
Savanna watched him return to the cooker. How was she to endure – fight off – the magnet that was Will Rubens over the next weeks?
Because he was a magnet, potent as a lightning storm.
Wendy – here’s to our “Alphie” sessions in those Route 10 coffee shops!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My sincerest thanks go to Wendy Roberts and
Camille Netherton for sharing their personal
knowledge and experiences regarding autistic
spectrum disorders, although each child with
Asperger’s syndrome and high-functioning
autism is unique and traits vary with each case.
Also, many thanks to Leanne Karella and
Kevin Karella for their help about helicopters
and the geography of Alaska. As with any work
of fiction, I have taken licence with some facts
on the above topics.
MARY J. FORBES
grew up on a farm amid horses, cattle, crisp hay and broad blue skies. As a child, she drew and wrote of her surroundings, and composed her first story about a little lame pony. Years later, she worked as an accountant, then as a reporter-photographer for a small-town newspaper, before earning an honours degree in education to become a teacher. She has also written and published short fiction stories.
A romantic by nature, Mary loves walking along the ocean shoreline, sitting by the fire on snowy or rainy evenings and two-stepping around the dance floor to a good country song – all with her own real-life hero, of course. Mary would love to hear from her readers at www.maryjforbes.com.
Dear Reader,
Years ago, I saw a documentary about Alaska and was completely entranced by its wild untouched beauty. From that moment, I hoped to one day set a story somewhere amid its copious snowy mountains, dark green timber and lush wildlife. I wanted to see Alaska through my characters’ eyes. What better way than to do it with a bush pilot, one of those brave and remarkable folk who fly helicopters and tiny four-and six-seater planes up and down the state’s vast river valleys, lakes and mountain slopes?
May you enjoy the journey of dashing pilot Will Rubens and the woman who brings a special little boy into his life, as they conquer their own uncertainties within the sweeping glory of the Last Frontier.
Mary J. Forbes
His Brother’s Gift
MARY J. FORBES
MILLS & BOON
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Chapter One
Starlight, Alaska Early April
Will Rubens sank to the kitchen chair and stared at the phone on the counter.
Dennis was…dead? Impossible. His brother lived in Central America. He was busy saving lives….
A hazy image of a tall, blond man with glasses magnifying his brown eyes was all Will’s brain conjured. Dennis, the last day they had seen each other face-to-face three years ago down in Washington state. Jeez, Dennis.
Will eyed the phone. The woman from Honduras had left three messages in the past hour. Urgent messages for him to call her. But he’d been with Josh, hitting fly balls, practicing for the upcoming Little League season.
Will didn’t blame the kid for the missed calls. Josh needed a big brother in Will and, truth be known, Will needed the boy. The eleven-year-old eased the decade of guilt Will carried because, if he’d been more disciplined in his actions, Elke and Dennis might have stayed in Alaska. Now three phone messages stamped another bruise over those his heart had accumulated. If the woman was right, what remained of his family was gone.
Gone as if they had never existed.
He wiped a shaky hand down his face. Stared at the phone. No, the woman had the correct number, the correct owner of that number.
He propped an elbow on the table, leaned his forehead against the base of his palm.
When was the last time he’d talked to Dennis? A year? Two? Yes…June, two years ago. Ten minutes of strained conversation that led nowhere. Strangers rather than brothers.
He raised his head, blinked into the April sunset spilling through the window above the sink and was surprised at the burn behind his eyes. Dennis. What the hell was in Honduras that you couldn’t have found in your own backyard?
But Will knew why his brother had trekked to Central America for a decade. Why their relationship had petered to a phone call every couple years.
Elke had wanted it that way. Hell, could he blame her?
Rising, he again punched Play on the answering machine. Just to be sure. Just to know he hadn’t misunderstood.
Grabbing a pen and slip of paper, he listened
