From part 6…

"He's definitely playing a lot more with the other children," Harriet mentioned, when Mac came to pick him up, the next week.

"But he's still behind other children of his own age," Mac sighed.

"Little AJ's teacher told me the same thing, once," Harriet shared with her, "That was in the fall, but by the next spring, he was starting to read by himself."

Mac looked intrigued.

"Children don't make steady, regular progress," she continued, "Some things come easy, other don't, sometimes a lot of things are harder for them to get the hang of, but then, one day; poof! They just get it and they start making leaps and bounds. Every child is different. That's just how Calum operates, I'm sure. He'll take a little bit longer, but he'll get there, eventually.

Mac sorely hoped that this would be the case.

Part 7…

It was nearly three weeks later when Mac got a call that she had by now stopped expecting.

"Hello?" she answered the phone, "Colonel MacKenzie speaking."

"Hello, Colonel," David replied, "You are in possession of one Calum Clarke…"

"Did you find his Mother?" Mac asked, quickly. She had difficulty getting the words out, for her heart had suddenly risen into her throat.

"Well, yes…and no," David hesitated, "But first, let me explain…"

Mac listened patiently while he did so.

"We received a call, late yesterday, from an old man living in Virginia, near Richmond. He was concerned because he hadn't seen one of his neighbours or her child since Thanksgiving…At first he thought that they might just be on vacation for the holidays, but when they stayed away through January and well into February, he thought he'd better make some enquiries. He didn't know that names of either the child or the woman, but he did give a physical description. The one of the child matched Calum. So, we checked with the landlord and then the public records and got name of the woman paying rent on the apartment. We came up with the name 'Hannah Clarke,' which we used to

start looking around…Now Colonel, are you sitting down?"

Mac's breath caught for a second, before she replied, "Yes…"

"We got a hit when we checked with the Sacred Heart hospice in DC…Calum's Mom admitted herself on Christmas Day; the day that she left Calum outside your door. Colonel, Hannah Clarke was in a very weak condition; she had terminal breast cancer…"

"No…" Mac placed her head in her hands. This was not what she had hoped for, for Calum's sake.

"I'm sorry, Colonel," David continued, "She didn't make it past the Thursday of the next week. Her funeral was held by the state, nearly six weeks ago."

Mac knew that if Calum's mother had been buried by the state, she'd had no living family member able to arrange it themselves.

"But we did manage to track down Calum's original paediatrician…" David added.

"And?" Mac asked, her heart back in her throat again.

"You were right," David admitted, "Calum does not have autism. He's normal, in every respect. I guess it's just going to take him a while to get over the big changes that have happened in his life."

"Thank Gd," Mac had been repeating to herself, after she had heard the first part of what David had just told her.

"I'm going to start looking for an adoptive family for Calum, as soon as I can," David told her, "I'll let you know when I come up with something…"

"That's obviously why she felt she couldn't approach me," Mac told Harm, later that evening. Calum was by now fast-asleep on the couch

"She knew that I couldn't help her."

"How do you think she knew you?" Harm asked.

"Maybe she was in town, looking into care facilities," Mac shrugged.

Harm thought for a second, then spoke up.

"Do you think that may be why Calum calls you 'Mommy'? Because she taught him to?"

Mac explored the possibility.

"Maybe…perhaps he called her something different. She obviously thought that the transition would be easier for him, if she got him used to the idea."

Harm nodded. Neither of them wanted to think about how hard such a task was bound to be, teaching your own child to love another as his mother, so that it would be easier for him to adjust, once you were gone.

"So now what?" Harm asked.

"Now," Mac had to steel herself to get the words out, "David is looking for a new home for Calum, someone to adopt him."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Harm asked, gently.

Mac knew exactly what Harm meant, but avoided the issue anyway.

"Of course," she replied, "I'm not having him going through lots of different foster homes, while they find him someone who will adopt him. He'll stay here as long as needed."

Harm just dropped the subject, because he didn't want to cause Mac any more pain than what she was already feeling.

Mac watched Calum as he played in the sandpit. She and Harm sat on a picnic blanket, not too far away. At last, Calum was starting to show some real progress. He was joining in with other children and their little games, although it was mainly because of the cool sandpit toys that they had brought with them. Right now, he was 'sharing' a toy dump-truck. But he wasn't pushy about it. At the first sign that the other child was unhappy with the arrangement, he quickly pulled back. He was very intuitive, Mac noted to herself. Harm was stretched out on his back, beside her, snoozing in the sunshine on this rare warm, sunny Sunday in April.

How much longer would all of this last? Mac was thinking to herself. Not that she wasn't enjoying it. She was - too much. This couldn't go on, she told herself, it was masochistic, letting herself believe that this was real, sometimes. And how would Calum get on, once she was out of his life? He'd already lost one Mother in the last five months. Did she have the strength to prepare him for what lay ahead, just as his mother had done? Her head told her that she had to do so, for Calum's sake. But her heart let her know clearly that to do so would be just too painful for everyone involved. And there couldn't be that much more time left. David had told her that Hannah Clarke had been diagnosed with terminal breast cancer over a year before she had succumbed to the disease. She had no medical insurance and no other family to help her. It would all affect Calum, if he watched the end of her steady decline, so she had begun to make and implement a plan. When it had all gotten too much for her to hide from Calum, Hannah had implemented the final stage of the plan. She had left Calum with the one person she had thought would take care of him and she had checked herself into a hospice to let go of life with the support of the attentive strangers around her.

Mac groaned at the onslaught of emotions besieging her. A child shouldn't have to lose two mothers…it just didn't seem fair. But Calum required so much more than she was able to give him. It was hard to be a parent; that much she had learned from watching the family life of Bud and Harriet. But to be a single parent…

"You okay, Mac?"

Mac was roused from her thoughts by Harm, who had heard her sigh.

"Yeah," she shifted, uncomfortably, "My arm's just gone dead from me leaning on it."

It wasn't a lie, her arm was numb, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. Her brain felt numb and her heart ached as she watched the gorgeous little boy with white-blond hair scoot around the sandpit with his new friends. Suddenly, the boy stiffened and got to his feet in a panic, surveying the grass area around him.

"Mommy?" he exclaimed in a scared, piercing voice, "Mommy?"

Mac quickly jumped up from where she was sitting, striding towards him.

His scared little face relaxed somewhat, once he caught sight of her.

"Here I am," Mac soothed him, bending down and scooping Calum up, "Did you forget where I was? Uncle Harm and I were just over there, watching you all the time."

Calum wrapped his arms around her neck, clinging on for dear life, emitting little whimpers, which eventually became little noises of contentment as Mac, stroking her fingers through his hair, carried him back to the picnic blanket, where she sat with him still in her arms.

"Is he okay?" Harm had sat up as soon as this had all started.

"Yeah," Mac kissed the top of the little boy's head, "He just forgot where we were."

"You got all turned around in that sandpit, didn't you, buddy?" Harm smoothed his hand over Calum's hair.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Mac told the boy, "Everything's okay now."

But that was just the opposite of how she was feeling, now, knowing what the future had in store for them.

Harm went back to Mac's for dinner, that night. After making them a wonderful meal of stir-fried vegetables in an oyster sauce (yes, Calum partook in the meal, too!) Harm went into the kitchen to load up the dishwasher. When he returned, Mac and Calum were stretched out on the couch, Calum asleep on top of Mac, his cheek settled against the middle of her breastbone, between her breasts. Mac had her eyes shut, although she was not asleep and both of them looked utterly content.

"The Madonna and child," Harm thought to himself, smiling, his heart constricting within his chest. For a second he wondered whether, since she had become so close to the little boy over the past few months, she might decide not to give him up. But then his common sense kicked in. No, she would not keep him. She wanted the best for him, loved him so much that she would give him up to a complete family, if only for his own good. Harm knew that Mac would ignore her own feelings, her own emotional pain, to focus totally on Calum. That is what Harm admired about Mac. No matter the cost to herself, Mac would give everything and everyone her all. Her selflessness was her very essence and it amazed Harm every time he saw it. Before he knew it, Harm had crossed the room and was standing, watching them. Mac sensed his gaze and opened her eyes. For a second, she studied his eyes, which were taking the heavenly scene in. At first, he seemed to be watching both her and Calum, but then Mac watched as his gaze focussed on her and his expression turned from one of tenderness, to one she could not so easily decipher. That stare was so intense…Was she mistaken or was that love written on his face? Was he really looking at her in that way? Slowly, he took a few short steps until he was beside her, then he lowered himself to sit on the floor. Mac soon got her answer. Still fixing her with his intense gaze, he reached over and began to softly stroke her face and hair. The feeling that he poured into that look and those touches nearly made her moan out-loud. Then, he cupped the side of her face with his gentle hand and lowered his lips to hers. As Mac responded to his searching kisses, she had no doubt in her mind. This was not because of how he saw her tending to Calum. Harm was seeing her as a desirable woman, hopefully one with whom he wanted to share something more…

They quickly broke apart when Calum stirred, unconsciously holding their breaths, until he relaxed again, drifting back into sleep.

"Uh," Mac searched for the words, trying not to look sheepish, "Harm…this isn't such a good time…"

Harm just nodded, his eyes flicking away, unable to completely hide his disappointment, "Well, I guess I'd better get going…"

"Harm," Mac spoke out, quietly but urgently. She wanted to stop any misunderstanding that may be happening between them, but she couldn't find the words, didn't know what to say. So she didn't say anything, but took Harm's hand from where he had placed in on the sofa, about to brace himself as he got to his feet. He just looked at their joined hands, then at her and gave a soft smile.

"I'll see you at work, tomorrow," he smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. Mac marvelled how much he managed to say something so normal and everyday, yet still portray so much more through it.

"G'night, Harm."

With a little ruffle of Calum's hair, Harm left and Mac was left to ponder the night's events.