Claiming His Baby

Yet thrilled as she was by his news, deep down the thought of carving out a career as a concert pianist had always been daunting to her. Though she loved the piano, the idea of devoting her life to the performance of music was already starting to hold less and less appeal. The sooner she admitted this to her father who’d sacrificed everything for her, the better.

“What are you going to do today besides practice?” he asked after standing up to give her a hug.

“I’ve got a lot of packing to do before I leave for New York tomorrow. Phyllis called and offered to drive me over to the concert hall early so I can warm up on the Steinway.”

“Wonderful! After my last appointment, I’ll come straight home and change, then join you backstage before the performance.”

She flashed him a smile. “I’d love that, but I won’t hold my breath. In case things get busy at the office, remember that tonight I don’t play until after the intermission.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. In a solemn voice he said, “Do you honestly think I’d miss the debut of my daughter’s entry into the world of Rubenstein and Ashkenazy?”

“Daddy—” She shook her head. “They’re legendary. Only a few pianists will ever be in their league.”

“You have greatness in you, honey. This is what your mother and I dreamed of.”

He kissed her forehead before leaving the dining room.

Immobilized by the growing conflict inside her, Heather stood there clinging to the chair long after she heard her father back down the driveway and leave for the hospital.

With incurious eyes, Dr. Raul Cardenas glanced out the window of the plane as it made its descent toward Salt Lake International airport. Though it was mid-June, there were still pockets of snow clinging to the highest peaks of the rugged Rocky Mountains. The sight reminded him of the Andes, and should have brought him a modicum of excitement.

But to his chagrin nothing seemed to dispel the growing discontentment he’d been feeling lately, not even the thought of seeing Evan and Phyllis again.

Urgent business had prompted this emergency visit. He needed to consult with an expert. Evan Dorney, the renowned heart surgeon who had been Raul’s mentor during the last year of his surgeon’s residency at University Hospital in Salt Lake, was that person.

The men had formed a fast friendship. Raul had been aware the older doctor had wanted him to stay in Salt Lake and become a partner in his thriving medical practice.

Though humbled and flattered by Evan’s offer, Raul’s roots tugged at him. He couldn’t turn his back on his own country where doctors were desperately needed any more than he could abandon the aging aunt and uncle who’d raised him from the age of nine. Their fondest hope had been that he follow in his uncle’s footsteps and become an attorney.

In the end Raul chose to be a doctor and practice medicine in the Gran Chaco of Argentina where he felt he could make the greatest contribution, thereby thwarting his uncle’s dreams and disappointing Evan.

Except for missing him and his exceptional wife, Phyllis, Raul had never regretted his decision. Determined to keep up their friendship, he’d remained close to them through phone calls and letters.

Over the intervening years the Dorneys had made four trips to Buenos Aires. Together the three of them had spent their vacations in the Andes and Patagonia. Finally Raul was coming to visit them.

Alarmed because this reunion should have generated more excitement inside of him, he was relieved when the plane had touched down so he wouldn’t have to be a prisoner of his own disturbing thoughts for a while.

Unbuckling the seat belt, he shrugged into the jacket of his lightweight tan suit before starting down the aisle. The first-class section emptied fairly fast. He paused at the doorway of the waiting area to scan the crowd, then came face-to-face with a familiar pair of intelligent hazel eyes.

Except for more gray in his hair, Evan didn’t seem to have changed at all. He stood tall, and his lopsided smile was still in evidence. The two men embraced.

“Evan,” Raul murmured, feeling a sudden rush of emotion as a plethora of memories assailed him. This man exuded all the warmth missing in the uncle who’d done his best to take over after Raul’s parents had been killed.

“You have no idea how delighted I was when you told me you were coming,” the older doctor responded with heartfelt sincerity.

“Even if I’m here to ask you an enormous favor?”

“I don’t care about the reason. You’re here!” he cried. “That’s all that matters.”

“He’s right,” his redheaded wife spoke up as Raul caught sight of her. She held out her arms for a hug, which he readily reciprocated.

“You’re beautiful as ever, Phyllis.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ve aged and I know it. But you—just look how handsome you are! I can’t believe you’re not married yet.”

“I never found anyone who measured up to you, that’s why.”

“With all those gorgeous South American beauties?”

Raul had had several relationships with women, but he’d never been so carried away that he’d proposed marriage to any of them, much to his aunt and uncle’s chagrin. Living in a city like Buenos Aires was one thing. Surviving in a tiny bush settlement like Zocheetl was something else…

“Phyllis, as I’ve told you on numerous other occasions, I would have to feel something earthshaking, and that hasn’t happened yet.”

Though busier than he’d ever been in his life, there was an aridness in his soul that nothing seemed to fill. He’d hoped a change of scene with the Dorneys might help cure what was ailing him.

“It’s because you live in isolation too much of the time. If you would stay a few months in Salt—”

“Phyllis—” her husband warned. “Leave the poor man alone. He just got here after a horrendously long flight. Come on, let’s grab your bags and take you home.

“I can’t get there fast enough.”

Within an hour he was ensconced in the Dorneys’s elegant, traditional two-story house, which had been his home away from home during his residency in Salt Lake. They’d prepared his old room for him.

As soon as he’d freshened up in the en suite bathroom, he joined them downstairs in the living room. To his surprise Phyllis had changed into a blue chiffon evening gown.

“You look lovely. Where are you going all dressed up?”

“To the symphony. You’ve heard us speak of the Sanders—”

“Of course. They’re your best friends. She’s the one who died of cancer a couple of years ago, leaving a daughter.”

“That’s right. Last week Heather won the international Gina Bacchauer piano competition. Tonight she’s performing her winning program with the Utah Symphony. I promised I’d drive over to symphony hall and be with her until she goes onstage.

“Normally I would never leave you when you’ve just arrived. But Heather’s my goddaughter and needs me. Besides, I happen to know Evan can’t wait to talk to you alone.”

“I’ve heard of the Bacchauer,” Raul interjected. “If she’s that good, I’d like to attend the performance.”

Evan smiled. “That’s very noble of you, but if you’re only in town for three days, I want to make the most of our time together.”

Raul knew this event must be important to Evan as well as Phyllis. “I really would like to go to the symphony. As you both know, music is as necessary to me as breathing.” He could credit his aunt and uncle for a life that included beautiful music and good books. “In fact it’s probably my favorite way to enjoy an evening.”

Because he spoke the truth, his voice carried the ring of conviction. Certainly the look of pleasure on their faces told its own story.

With the decision made, everyone was galvanized into action. After Phyllis placed fried chicken and potato salad on the breakfast room table, she left for the Sanders’s home in her car.

Over their meal Evan urged Raul to tell him what was so important, it had caused him to leave his beloved bush.

“There’s a little seven-year-old Indian boy with a strange heart condition. He’s too sick to be moved from the bush hospital. I’ve brought his X rays with me.