His Child Or Hers?. Dawn Stewardson

has Benjamin’s birthmark,” she reiterated quietly. “And according to his medical records he has the same blood type as my son. And—”

      “Fine. Your P.I.’s poked around and come up with enough coincidences to build a case. But that’s a long way from proving—”

      “Hank, it isn’t only the birthmark and the blood type and Robbie’s age. Most Guatemalans have a darker complexion than Benjamin does, and…if you read the report…There’s no mistake. I’m his mother. A simple DNA test will prove that.

      “In fact, I spoke to someone at a private lab in Englewood. If you’ll agree to take Robbie there, we can both be tested and have a definitive answer within twenty-four hours.”

      He pushed himself out of his chair and paced across the room—his heart pounding harder still.

      Of course he’d agree. He’d take Robbie tomorrow, and hope to hell the test would prove Spicer had arrived at the wrong conclusion. But deep down his fear was telling him that wasn’t going to happen.

      One by one, he scrutinized the photos on the mantel and discovered Natalie was right. The birthmark didn’t show in any of them. And if she’d actually told Spicer about it in the beginning, this was no scam. It was the real thing.

      He turned and stood gazing at her. There were no striking similarities between her features and Robbie’s, but their eyes were the identical shade of brown. And something about the way she held her head…

      Dammit, if she was Robbie’s mother, he was at risk of losing his child. The thought made his chest feel hollow.

      “Maybe if you just looked at the report,” she murmured.

      As much to give himself some breathing space as anything else, he walked back over, picked it up and began flipping through the pages.

      The document was exhaustive, even contained a brief description of his house. “A comfortable, three-bedroom bungalow in a semirural area outside Madison, New Jersey,” he read before moving on to biographical information about him and Audrey.

      He skimmed the summary section headed Hank Ballantyne. “Thirty-six years of age. NYPD homicide detective. Work involves rotating shifts and frequent overtime.”

      He swore under his breath. That hardly made him sound like the ideal single parent.

      As for Audrey…

      “Live-in housekeeper. Fifty-eight years of age. Widowed. One married daughter living in Idaho.”

      Hell, couldn’t Spicer at least have mentioned that she was crazy about Robbie? And that she was one of the nicest people in the state of New Jersey?

      Thinking that—thanks to Rodger Spicer—Natalie knew almost as much about his adult life as he did, he moved on to the next section and discovered it discussed Jane’s leaving him. And their subsequent divorce.

      He read through the overview, which contained details that had obviously come from the divorce pleadings.

      Jane hadn’t been able to have a baby and had been pressing him about adoption for quite a while. Then, when they’d seen the news coverage of the earthquake, so many children suddenly needing homes had made him agree to the idea.

      Once he had, with Worldwide matching prospective parents to the orphans before they even left Guatemala, getting Robbie had been a relatively quick process.

      But after he was theirs, it hadn’t taken Jane long to decide that a baby wasn’t actually what she’d wanted. And she’d left mere weeks after the adoption was final.

      The adoption was final. Of course! There was the key fact. Why hadn’t he realized that immediately?

      Looking over at Natalie once more, he said, “Let’s be sure we both understand something here. Even if you are Robbie’s birth mother, my wife and I adopted him under New Jersey state law. And at this point I have sole custody. So, legally speaking, he’s my son.”

      She coughed an anxious little cough, then said, “Well, the thing is, I’ve already consulted a lawyer. One in Trenton. And, legally speaking, it’s not actually clear whose son he is.”

      ACCORDING TO RODGER SPICER’S report, Hank Ballantyne was an intelligent, rational man.

      With that in mind, Natalie had told herself a million times that if they just remained reasonable, they should be able to work out a solution to their problem.

      Not that she was anywhere near convinced they’d manage it, but they had to try. Aside from anything else, it would be a whole lot easier on Benjamin if they could simply come to an agreement themselves.

      So even though she had the feeling Hank was tuning in and out while she went over what the lawyer had told her, she pressed on.

      “Basically, his opinion is that we’re looking at a legal nightmare,” she said. “You believed you were adopting an orphan, but…”

      She caught herself before she said “Benjamin” aloud. She had to start thinking of her son as Robbie. After all, that was the name he knew, so it was what she’d have to call him.

      “But because I was actually alive,” she explained, “and didn’t know what was happening, let alone agree to give up my baby…

      “Well, apparently, there’s almost no relevant case law in the entire country, let alone in the state of New Jersey. So if we can’t agree on how to handle this, if we have to resort to the courts, it would be a precedent-setting case—which I gather could easily drag on for years. Plus cost a fortune in legal fees.”

      “And while it was dragging on?” Hank said. “Where would Robbie be?”

      “With one of us.”

      “Which one?”

      “We wouldn’t be sure about that until…If we can’t work things out on our own,” she continued, desperately trying not to sound as though she was threatening him, “I’d have to apply for interim custody.”

      “You’d have to,” he repeated, eyeing her so coldly she looked away.

      Obviously, she had sounded threatening. But she’d just wanted him to realize what her only alternative would be.

      Not that it would necessarily do her any good. Her lawyer had made that clear.

      She might be the birth parent, but Hank was the one Benjamin…Robbie knew. The one he loved and had lived with for as long as he could remember.

      That meant most judges probably wouldn’t let her take him back to Guatemala until after a final decision had been reached. Far more likely, the ruling would be that he should stay right where he was for the time being. With Hank.

      And if that was the end result of the first round of legal wrangling, a competent lawyer could probably manage to drag the court proceedings on until Robbie was ready for college. So resolving the problem themselves…

      She said, “Hank, the most important factor in this is Robbie’s well-being, right?”

      “Of course.”

      “And I realize that my walking in here and trying to take him away from you would not be in his best interest, so it isn’t what I’m trying to do.

      “It really isn’t,” she added when he looked as if he wasn’t buying that for a second. “But I’ve been working on finding him since the day I went to that orphanage and learned…

      “If we just come up with a compromise that we can both live with…Hank, I know how awful this must be for you, but he is my son.”

      “And he’s been my son since he was six months old. Do you think I don’t love him?”

      “I know you do,” she whispered, her throat tight. “Now that I’m here…now that we’ve met, I can tell—”

      “Let’s get