The disappointment Declan felt at that possibility caused his legs to start to buckle beneath him before he reached out quickly and grasped hold of one of the kitchen units to stop himself from falling.
But still, he couldn’t stop staring at the young man he knew had to be River Meadows and yet looked so much like the age-progressive drawing Declan had once had done of what his son, Connall, might look like as an adult.
That drawing had been the spitting image of how River Meadows looked right now.
Fawn had absolutelyno idea what was going on, but she was really alarmed by the pallor of Declan’s face. It wasn’t just white, it had now turned a sickly shade of gray. His eyes also looked dark and haunted, and he couldn’t seem to stop staring at River.
As if he had seen a ghost.
A ghost he obviously believed was his missing son, Connall.
But that wasn’t possible.
Was it…?
Staring at them, and being so emotionally connected to both of them, Fawn couldfeelthe euphoric hope rising inside Declan and the increasing puzzlement inside River as the two men continued to stare at each other.
She could also, now that she knew of the possibility of a familial connection between them, see their likeness to each other. The same Irish-blue eyes. River had dark curls, where Declan’s were salt-and-pepper. But they had the same high cheekbones. Those matching strong jawlines.
Buthowwas that possible?
She gave Danny a pleading glance, only to find his gaze was also fixed on the other men.
Because he saw the same likeness between them that Fawn did?
That would definitely appear to be the case.
Okay, so, if theyallthought there was a strong likeness between the two men, what were the ways in which that might be possible?
Fawn knew that both her parents had been only children, so there was no way either of them had been closely related to Declan.
She also knew that her mother had been deeply in love with her father, so there was no way she’d had an affair and produced River.
Produced…
Fawn stilled.
She’d already told Declan her childhood had been…different. Lonely too. Until River’s arrival.
She’d never thought of this before but… “Declan, you said Linus had put away the photographs of Connall you have in the apartment.”
He glanced at her, face still deathly pale. “They’re in the drawer of my bedside table.”
She moistened the dryness of her lips. “Could I see some of them, please?”
He glanced at River, as if he were loath to leave the room, even for the few seconds it would take to get those photographs.
In case River disappeared while he was gone?
Fawn moved to Declan’s side to place a gentle hand on his forearm. “We’ll all still be here when you get back.”
He looked at her, devouring her with those deep-blue eyes. “I love you.”
“I know.” She gave a tremulous smile. “I love you too. Now go and get those photographs for me, hm?”
He swallowed. “What if?—”
“Get them, Declan,” she encouraged softly. “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”
