In his small room off the kitchen, Robert inserted the slide into the scanner, locked it down to keep the resolution from bleeding and, using his palm-size computer, adjusted the magnification. He tried to concentrate on getting a perfect scan, but he knew the odds were against it under field conditions. If he weren’t so damn distracted…
He knew better than to think of Jack and Lily on a personal level. He told himself he would have done this even if mother and child were strangers he’d met on the street. He was a doctor, after all. That’s what he did. He would have made sure they received proper medical care no matter who they were.
Only this woman and her child weren’t strangers. Robert had felt that the instant he’d set foot in the cottage, the instant he laid eyes on that child. Jack may not be his son, but he felt a connection nonetheless. And if he wasn’t careful, he was going to find himself getting a little too close for comfort. A grave mistake considering the circumstances. Not only were he and Lily finished, but he had a mission to carry out.
He couldn’t let this woman and her child interfere with finding Alex Morrow and collecting information on Bruno DeBruzkya. Damn it, he and Lily were through. Had been for almost two years. She had a child and a life that didn’t include him. She’d moved on. Robert needed to do the same.
Cursing under his breath, he clicked the mouse to open the software and scanned the cells on the slide. Once the cells had been scanned, he saved the image and information to the tiny disk, then sent both files to the satellite hub, which patched them directly through to ARIES headquarters. He’d instructed Hatch to forward the scan to the laboratory on site, along with an order for the tests he wanted run. He’d been able to skirt most of Hatch’s questions about whose blood they were testing. Hatch hadn’t pressed, but Robert knew he’d eventually have to come clean. He didn’t relish the idea of explaining to his boss that he was holed up with a woman he’d spent the last twenty-one months trying to get out of his system.
“How long will it be?”
He looked up from his tiny computer to find Lily standing in the doorway. Because the sight of her invariably triggered inappropriate thoughts, he looked at the computer and stared blindly at the screen. “We should have preliminary results in a few minutes. Dr. Orloff is expecting us.”
“Good.”
After shutting down the computer, he rose and started toward her. “How’s Jack?”
“He’s finally asleep.” She hugged herself as if against a chill. “I think he’s exhausted.”
Because it was too early to make any kind of definitive diagnosis, Robert hadn’t yet admitted to Lily that he was, indeed, concerned about her son. His symptoms were consistent with several types of anemia that, though rare, were most often diagnosed in children under two years of age. He wanted to reassure her, but at this point he knew those reassurances could turn out to be false. It made him feel lousy that he couldn’t even offer her that.
“If he needs any kind of medication that isn’t available in Rajalla, I can have some sent to you from Paris or Frankfurt,” he said.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Robert could see the strain in her eyes, the fear hovering just beneath her calm facade. Even though she was doing a pretty good job of masking it, he sensed the tension radiating through her. Shadows of fatigue marred the porcelain skin beneath her eyes. He wondered how well she would hold up if it turned out to be something serious. He hoped like hell it wasn’t.
“You haven’t had any sleep,” he said. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll wake you when the results come back.”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s no way I could sleep without knowing—”
“Lily, these tests are only preliminary. They may not tell us anything.”
“I can’t sleep knowing he’s sick. That he could be seriously ill. For God’s sake, Robert, he’s the reason I get out of bed every day.” Her voice broke with the last word. “I can’t let anything happen to him. He’s so little and sweet and helpless….”
“It’s not going to do either of you any good if you worry yourself sick.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” she whispered.
“It may turn out to be something as simple as anemia. That’s very treatable. I can prescribe some vitamins. A shot of B-12. A change in diet, maybe. And he’ll be good as new.”
She shook her head. “He’s so weak he couldn’t even squeeze my finger. That’s a game we play. Kind of like peekaboo. He wanted to play, I could see it in his eyes. But he couldn’t because he was too weak.” She blinked back tears. “That breaks my heart.”
Robert sensed her emotions unraveling and felt a quiver of uneasiness in his gut. “It’s going to be all right,” he said.