Bonnie Winn - Family Found

“If?” Laura shook her head. “There’s no ‘if’ for me.” She was climbing out of her fatigue, fueled by a new desperation. “I deserve the truth and I intend to ask for it.”

Still, she was afraid. But she coudn’t give up now. “I can understand if you don’t want to get involved any deeper,” she went on. “I can continue alone. There’s no need for you to put yourself in danger.”

“I am rather fond of my neck,” he replied. “But you really don’t think I’m going to let you continue alone, do you?”

Relief was trickling past the fear, diluting it. “I’m letting you off the hook,” she said, though even to her ears her resolve sounded weak.

Somehow his arms were around her, pulling her near. “I’ve always been a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

“Damsel? I’m no—”

But his lips were cutting off her indignation. And suddenly her protest didn’t seem at all important. Not nearly as important as the warmth of his arms holding her tight and the sanctuary she was finding there.

Closing her mind, she also closed off the warning bells that had been ringing for so long. Just for the night, she told herself. Just for the night.

Dear Reader,

I was drawn to write Family Found because the landscape of today’s family has changed so much. And I believe each family, from the typical mom, dad and kids to single- and blended-parent families, is special. This is particularly true of families with adopted children, children of the heart.

Mitch and Laura have both been searching for roots, but it’s love that brings them together and love that will cement the roots of their own “family found.”

I wish you happy reading and joy in your own special family.

Bonnie K. Winn

Family Found

Bonnie K. Winn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

To Laura Shin and Paula Eykelhof, for embracing this story with such wonderful enthusiasm.

For my son, Brian Thomas Winn. I blinked and you grew up. I blinked again and you are a man serving his country. And my eyes continue to fill with pride.

PROLOGUE PROLOGUE THE OXYGEN WAS being sucked out of the very air, certainly from Laura Kelly’s lungs. Instinctively, she clutched her eighteen-month-old son, Alex, closer. It was an effort to protect, to deny and certainly to disbelieve. If what the physician said was true, Alex might have only months, even weeks, to live. Dr. Fletcher gentled his voice. “Mrs. Kelly, I realize the news is a shock to you. However, you must know exactly what you’re facing.” “But when you talked about treatment for Alex, you said I was a likely donor candidate!” Laura exclaimed, her mind racing through the possibilities. She’d never considered that as the child’s mother she wouldn’t be a match. She stared at Dr. Fletcher, silently willing him to produce a miracle. It was now the twenty-first century, the beginning of a new millennium. It seemed impossible to believe that a cure for acute leukemia wasn’t within the doctor’s ability. Houston boasted one of the most advanced and respected medical and cancer research centers in the world. If the cure wasn’t within reach here, where would it be? The frown line between Dr. Fletcher’s eyes deepened, and Laura felt her heart clutch. “That’s part of the problem, Mrs. Kelly. As we discussed during your last visit, the most effective course of treatment is a bone marrow transplant. However, your genetic makeup isn’t adding up.” Alex fussed, and automatically, Laura ran a soothing hand over his plump legs, then handed him a set of plastic toy keys. “Not adding up? What do you mean?” “I’ve run some preliminary tests on your potential donors. It’s more than the fact that no one’s a match. Genetically, it appears that they aren’t blood relatives.” For a moment Laura was speechless, and when she did speak, she had to struggle for words, for some sense of what the doctor was telling her. “My aunt and my mother’s cousins—of course they’re blood relatives.” Dr. Fletcher shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Is it possible you’re adopted, Mrs. Kelly?” “Of course not!” Then Laura paused. It didn’t seem feasible, yet… People had often commented that she didn’t resemble either of her parents. Her mother and father had always jokingly replied that the dissemblance was Laura’s lucky chance of fate. Meeting the doctor’s troubled eyes, Laura realized her luck had just run out.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

EPILOGUE

THE OXYGEN WAS being sucked out of the very air, certainly from Laura Kelly’s lungs. Instinctively, she clutched her eighteen-month-old son, Alex, closer. It was an effort to protect, to deny and certainly to disbelieve. If what the physician said was true, Alex might have only months, even weeks, to live.

Dr. Fletcher gentled his voice. “Mrs. Kelly, I realize the news is a shock to you. However, you must know exactly what you’re facing.”

“But when you talked about treatment for Alex, you said I was a likely donor candidate!” Laura exclaimed, her mind racing through the possibilities. She’d never considered that as the child’s mother she wouldn’t be a match. She stared at Dr. Fletcher, silently willing him to produce a miracle. It was now the twenty-first century, the beginning of a new millennium. It seemed impossible to believe that a cure for acute leukemia wasn’t within the doctor’s ability. Houston boasted one of the most advanced and respected medical and cancer research centers in the world. If the cure wasn’t within reach here, where would it be?

The frown line between Dr. Fletcher’s eyes deepened, and Laura felt her heart clutch. “That’s part of the problem, Mrs. Kelly. As we discussed during your last visit, the most effective course of treatment is a bone marrow transplant. However, your genetic makeup isn’t adding up.”

Alex fussed, and automatically, Laura ran a soothing hand over his plump legs, then handed him a set of plastic toy keys. “Not adding up? What do you mean?”

“I’ve run some preliminary tests on your potential donors. It’s more than the fact that no one’s a match. Genetically, it appears that they aren’t blood relatives.”

For a moment Laura was speechless, and when she did speak, she had to struggle for words, for some sense of what the doctor was telling her. “My aunt and my mother’s cousins—of course they’re blood relatives.”

Dr. Fletcher shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Is it possible you’re adopted, Mrs. Kelly?”

“Of course not!” Then Laura paused. It didn’t seem feasible, yet… People had often commented that she didn’t resemble either of her parents. Her mother and father had always jokingly replied that the dissemblance was Laura’s lucky chance of fate.

Meeting the doctor’s troubled eyes, Laura realized her luck had just run out.

A WEATHERED SIGN identifying the office as belonging to Mitch Tucker, private detective, was just this side of shabby. As was the rest of the small building’s exterior, Laura decided critically. Really not in keeping with the expensive commercial land it was situated on; but then, she wasn’t shopping for a spotless houseboy. She wanted a first-rate detective, and despite outward appearances, Mitch Tucker came highly recommended by several adoptee search organizations.