Ready-Made Family (6 page)

W
hile a lab technician entered to draw Amelia’s blood, Ben retreated near the door to absorb and process the shock of what Harker had told him on the way up here.

Amelia’s parents had no interest in even checking on her, much less talking to Amelia or offering help. The kicker was they threatened to come get Reece. Ben thanked God Harker chose to be Amelia’s advocate by insisting they not and had no grounds to.

On his way to bowl with Hutton last night, Ben had stopped by the Refuge PD to talk to Stallings about getting Amelia’s car un-impounded. Stallings informed Ben that Amelia’s father had said since she got herself in the mess, she’d have to get herself out.

At least he’d finally admitted Amelia had paid them for the car and did in fact own it. Maybe her old man wasn’t completely coldhearted. Ben felt glad to be able to bear a bit of good news, especially after her flu relapse. One of her parents had faxed the car title and proof that Amelia held ownership.

Still, Ben could hardly contain his anger toward these people. Compassion churned in him for Amelia and what she must have had to endure up to now.

Any remnants of frustration he’d felt toward her that first day dissipated. He’d mistakenly thought she’d acted foolishly by endangering her and Reece’s lives.

Maybe he’d judged her, and her situation, too harshly.

Footsteps sounded as Miss Harker came close to the bed and extended her hand. “My name is Glorietta Harker, but you can call me Glorietta. May I call you Amelia?”

Amelia stared at the hand, then the business logo on Harker’s shirt and blinked rapidly. “You’re the one from DCFS.”

Retrieving her hand, Miss Harker nodded and sat on the side of Amelia’s bed opposite of where Reece snuggled in a recliner asleep. “You remember me from before? I wondered, because you were pretty out of it that first day.”

She eyed Harker as if undecided whether the woman was friend or foe. “I remember bits and pieces.” She nailed Harker’s gaze head on. “You gonna try to take my baby away?”

Harker’s hand settled on Amelia’s. “I lost a baby to a forced adoption at age fifteen that has haunted me just as long. Now, you tell me, do you think I hold even a remote interest in ripping a child from a capable mother’s arms?”

A tense silence stretched between them. Amelia didn’t speak.

“I am interested, however, in helping you get on your feet. I am a social worker of sorts. I have access to resources you may not be able to tap into on your own. That is my interest.”

“That’s it? No other motivation?”

“That’s it. No other motivation other than to help you. So you can better care for Reece and have a more stable future for the both of you. Your parents certainly don’t seem to have an interest in helping at the moment.” A look Ben interpreted as annoyance drew Harker’s sculpted eyebrows down.

As if Harker’s words and reaction hauled a heavy rucksack off Amelia’s shoulders, they lifted. “I know. Tell me about it.”

Harker pushed a business card across the bedside tray. “Actually, why don’t
you
tell
me
about it? Sometimes it helps to talk.”

Amelia’s gaze darted to Ben and back. “Right now?”

“How about after I grab my second cup of coffee? Ben has something he wants to talk to you about, which is why he’s here with me. I can vouch for his character. Then I’ll come back and boot him out so we can have girl chat. Fair?”

Amelia blinked, then her face broke out into a smile. The genuine kind that he’d hoped to be on the receiving end of.

“Your mom faxed the car title.” Ben approached Amelia. Her arms snapped across her chest in a stubborn fold.

“You spoke to them?” Her back straightened against the bed.

He shook his head. “Officer Stallings did. What’s got your hackles raised?”

“I wanna know why you’re helping me. What do you have to gain by this? And don’t tell me you don’t because otherwise you wouldn’t still be coming here.” She tilted her chin.

Wow. Blunt as a baseball bat. Good. He liked that. Meant he could be blunt right back and they’d never have to wonder what the other was thinking.

“I want to make sure you and Reece are gonna be okay.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Ben dipped his head at the sleeping girl. “Is her life worth the gamble? Because I can smell your fear a mile away.”

Ben leaned so close, Amelia glimpsed almond brown flecks in dark Hershey-chocolate eyes. Their richness reminded her how hungry for a candy bar she was—how long it had been since she’d eaten one. He stared without blinking.

And she could not move, could not look away, as he placed his hands palms down on her table. It creaked as he leaned nearly nose to nose. As he opened his mouth to speak, his breath fanned her cheek. The lilt of whispered words both
warmed and warned her heart. “What or who are you running from, Amelia North? I won’t rest until I find out.”

Failure.

I’m afraid of doing my very best and still failing Reece.

He leaned up slowly, keeping his fingers splayed on her table. “And I won’t leave you alone until I know you’re not going to go off again and do something unwise and unsafe.”

Her jaw dropped. “You have no idea—”

“I have every idea. You could have been in traffic when you passed out Sunday. Or on the interstate careening toward a semi doing sixty. Need I say more?”

Panic and remorse waylaid her at the images his words conjured up. Yet no trace of anger resided in his tone.

The urge to explain herself seized her. She hadn’t meant to let it go this far.

Who was he to judge her? He probably had lots of money and no children, and certainly no idea of the kinds of things desperation to meet a child’s most basic needs could drive a parent to do.

“There’s sense in everything, Amelia. No reason not to let me help you and Reece out.”

For three days, he’d shown up voicing this same argument. For three days, she’d rejected his help.

But today, something in her gave way.

No idea how, but the velvet in his voice soothed some deep wound inside.

He’s right.
She knew to the depths of her being.

No matter what disdain wafted from his dark, impassable eyes, Amelia had a daughter to care for. She couldn’t afford to concern herself with anxiety over what Ben thought of her.

Resigned to her fate, Amelia drew in a deep breath and tried not to let the flicker of kindness in his eyes affect the twitch she felt escalating in hers. She’d steel her heart, swallow her pride and she’d be fine.

There had to be a catch.

“You expect nothing in return?”

“Nothing. I simply want you to let me help you. For starters, let me get you some groceries, gas and phone cards.”

“What, no cash? Afraid I’ll blow it on drugs or alcohol?”

Ben shrugged. “No. I don’t think that. Your drug screen came out negative and you didn’t smell soused when I found you.”

The edge of her hospital bed sank when Ben sat on top of the blanket. “Cops found a Bible in your floorboard, not a bottle of bourbon, so I’d say your only problem is you’re too stubborn for your own good.” He grinned.

“What do you want, other than to squish my toes?” It took considerable effort, both mental and physical, to tug her feet from beneath the warm weight of his thigh.

He moved to the chair, draping his arm across her side rail in a casual pose. “I want you to use the good sense you’ve been given and get yourself healthy before you go on the road again. Which reminds me, I dropped by Eagle’s Nest.”

“How’s my car?”

“Critical condition. Mechanic’s fast. Making your car a priority.”

“How expensive is he?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether he has to order parts and how fast you want the work done. If he expedites it, I’m sure it’ll double the price.” He rested his chin on his forearm and studied her.

“Think I could access it once I get out?”

He straightened up. “Why? You’re not sleeping in it. Too hot. And I can tell you had been. She’ll die of heatstroke. The inside of a car can heat to over a hundred degrees in fifteen minutes here. It’s summertime. And little kids can’t survive that kind of heat.”

“I wasn’t thinking of sleeping in it. There’s something I need to get out of it. I could be discharged any time. Do you have shelters here in Refuge?”

“Yes, but it’s comprised mostly of homeless men who are known drug users and it wouldn’t be safe. Their security is not tight. Too dangerous. I can hook you up with a place to stay near where I live if the doctor releases you.”

He was right about the shelter. She had Reece’s safety to think about. But why would this stranger help her? What did he have to gain by it?

As if sensing her questions, he handed her a brochure with what looked like a sprawling Victorian mansion on it. “It’s where I’m staying. Refuge Bed and Breakfast. Real nice place. Safe neighborhood. I’ll pay for two rooms instead of one. If it makes you feel better about receiving help, you can pay me back when you get on your feet. Don’t let the fancy looks of it deter you. It’s surprisingly cheap.”

Amelia worried the hem of her blanket. She didn’t want to need his help. But, truth was, she did.

She didn’t have anyone else to depend on.

Wouldn’t it be safer to receive help from a stranger instead of parents who’d dangle it over her head and then withhold it anyway? Even after she’d humbled herself to begging for Reece’s sake? “Government agencies all declined me because they took into account my parents’ income, since we lived with them.”

Why she said that aloud, she didn’t know. Other than her needing him to know she wasn’t a flake. That she had valid reasons for her financial struggles.

Truthfully, she battled feeling scared to death being on her own and caring for another human being who depended on her for life and everything in it.

Amelia swallowed a good portion of pride along with the growing lump in her throat. She’d made hundreds of sound
choices the past five years. Unfortunately, one wrong choice preceding that determined the course of her life up to this point.

“I ended up a struggling single mother before I was ready because I wrongly trusted a man with everything I had. I don’t know if I can take that kind of risk again.”

The moment locked in silence, Amelia held Ben’s gaze.

What she saw there were eyes corded to a soul that seemed to reach through with a lifeline and beckon her to believe.

You can trust me, Amelia.

Could she?

Even if she were capable of trust again, was he trustworthy? Was Ben Dillinger a man of integrity who stood by his word? Someone she could take at face value?

Or was he, like Reggie, just out to take advantage of her for his own gain? No one helped another person unless it benefited them. Something motivated this man to act like he cared. What was it?

Her head was filled with questions.

Was he acting? Or did he truly care? If the remote possibility existed he did care, why?

No matter. She
had
to get to that job by next Tuesday.

“B
ad move, Dillinger,” Amelia said early the next morning as she slid her queen diagonally two spaces. “Check. Mate.”

“No way!” Ben leaned forward, studying the chessboard. “You won again?” Not possible. Except for his teammate, Brockton, no one beat him. Ever. But as Ben searched every angle for possible hope for his king, the board echoed its decree:

Check. Mate.

Hands ran overtop his freshly buzzed hair and clamped behind his head, he leaned back and eyed her with healthy respect. “I’ve only seen one other person win that fast. You blow me away.” In more ways than one.

Especially when she smiled with her whole face like that.

Knocks at the door broke the trance that rested over the room. Amelia blinked. Ben scooted back as a doctor entered.

The man, familiar to Ben, approached with an outstretched hand. “I’m Dr. Riviera, an associate of Dr. Callahan.”

Amelia shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure meeting you, too.” The doctor looked from Amelia to Ben and smiled. “I’m sure we’ve met before. You’re a friend of Joel and Amber Montgomery’s, right?”

“Yeah.” Ben nodded, realizing where he’d seen the man
before. Ben turned to Amelia. “Joel’s my team leader and friend. He recently married and adopted a son,” he explained to her, and faced Riviera again. “You’re Bradley’s oncologist, right?”

“I am. Little guy’s doing fabulous. He’ll probably outlive us all.” Riviera flipped through Amelia’s medical records. “Dr. Callahan is a trauma surgeon and had an unexpected surgical case this morning and asked me to come see you. Your potassium is within normal limits. Everything looks great.”

Amelia’s legs swung over the bed. “I can leave?”

Riviera chuckled at her rapt movement. “I think it’s safe to say you can. I’ll write a discharge order. But wait until about ten, which marks twenty-four hours of keeping fluids down. We’ll measure and test your output to be certain the dehydration is gone. You look more than ready to go.”

“I am.” She reached for her socks. “Miss Harker should be back from breakfast with Reece soon. We can catch a noon bus.”

“Not today, I hope. Dr. Callahan wants to see you in his office Friday afternoon, at two.” His pen waltzed across a prescription pad. He tore the top page off then handed it to her. “Here’s an appointment reminder and the address. Need directions?”

Amelia stood, pulling her IV stand close when the line pulled taut. “No. What I need is that appointment moved up so I can catch a bus. I have to be at a job Tuesday morning in another state. I need to prepare.” She smiled but Ben didn’t miss the quiver in her eye. A tiny wobble remained in her gait, telling Ben she was still mildly weak. Or majorly stressed.

From Riviera’s scalpel-sharp gaze, he noticed, too. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Dr. Callahan won’t be out of surgery until about one, and our office closes at noon on Thursdays. Tomorrow is booked solid until two. I’ll send the nurse in to discontinue your IV if I can get your word you won’t try to travel, even by bus, until Dr. Callahan clears you on Friday.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Okay.”

Face casted in empathy, he nodded before turning to Ben. “Nice to see you again, Airman Dillinger.” Head tipped, he left.

Ben nudged a tissue box across her table. He drew near. She angled her face away but her tremulous chin and damp eyes didn’t escape his notice.

“Thanks.” Her shoulders shrugged then drooped. Like the anvil of her burdens made it difficult to draw breath.

“No problem.” Maelstroms of compassion swirled inside Ben. What could he do to lift her? Life repeatedly knocked her down. Yet she remained unbreakably determined to crawl up this hull of hardship and break free of poverty’s stranglehold.

Admiration for her rose up. His faith suggested hardship could become a harbor if she got to know God better through it. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the idea she felt she could trust God to help. Another reason he wanted to befriend her. For sure, she’d be the object of his present and future prayers.

Help me help her without hindering what You’re trying to teach her. Prove You love her and care about what’s happening in her life. Be the strong tower she runs to, Safe Harbor.

Ben stepped closer. “Hey listen, I’ll take you to your appointment tomorrow if you want.”

She lifted her face and studied him.

Maybe humor would make charity easier to receive. He waggled his brows. “Just think, you could be escorted by the cutest chauffeur in Refuge.” He splayed fingers on his chest and adopted a French accent.
“Moi.”

That caused her to laugh. She rolled red-rimmed eyes at him. “You’re something else.”

He grinned, waiting for her to answer.

She nibbled her lip. “Okay, if you’re sure it’s no trouble.” She tucked long, loose curls behind her ear. Her hair boasted a golden-brown luster and shine not present yesterday. Having a thing about ladies with long hair, his fingers itched to touch the silky coils. Her face held more vitality today, too.

When she caught him staring, her head tilted down, causing a thicket of curls to fall over her lazy eye. “I might need to use your phone again to check when the bus leaves Friday evening.”

“No trouble on both counts. Though I don’t relish the idea of you and Reece riding alone on a bus, not especially after dark.” He handed her his phone.

When she took it, her hand brushed his. Tingles traveled up his arm. She froze with an enemy-in-the-grenade-path expression. Evidence she felt it, too. He bit his lip to contain his smile.

The door swished open. “Miss North? I’m here to remove your IV.” A woman in teal scrubs appeared through a crack somewhere in the curtain. “We’ll see if you can stay hydrated without it.”

Another woman trailed in, carrying two breakfast trays. “Thought the little one might be hungry, too. We had an extra tray. I’ll leave it for your daughter for when she wakes up.”

“Thank you. But she went to breakfast with the social worker.” Amelia lifted the lid. Steam wafted up from oatmeal. The smell rumbled Ben’s tummy.

It also reminded him he’d promised to take Hutton to Refuge Bed and Breakfast for pancakes and chocolate gravy.

The food-service lady left both trays. “We brought it in, so someone might as well eat it. Otherwise, infection control requires us to pitch the meal.” She smiled and scuttled out.

Amelia eyed Ben. “Would you like to eat breakfast with me?”

“I’d like to, but I have other plans.”

He hated disappointing her. But he’d promised Hutton his favorite breakfast and a fishing session at Bradley’s grandparents’ pond outside Refuge. Hutton had seemed excited to have made a friend, and in fact he seemed more comfortable already around Bradley than he did Ben. Maybe this time at the pond would endear Hutton to Refuge. And to Ben.

“Probably wouldn’t hurt you to eat both of those.” Ben motioned toward the trays.

Her face fell, full of frustration.

“I didn’t mean to sound bossy. Or judgmental.”

She nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze again.

Ben moved toward the door hoping she’d look up. Stupid move, Dillinger. He’d hurt her feelings. Why couldn’t he learn to be sensitive and say the right things? He foiled that with Hutton, too. “I’ll be back, Amelia.”

She never looked up.

Near the exit, he passed Harker. Reece slept soundly in her arms. “Nap time?” Ben said, grinning.

Harker nodded. “Long overdue, too.”

His heart melted like butter in the steaming oatmeal at the sight of Reece embraced by slumber yet clutching Bearby like a fuzzy buoy.

“No secret to anyone who knows you how increasingly marriage and family-minded you’ve grown,” Harker observed.

“Seeing how vibrant and happy my newlywed teammates are doesn’t help matters.”

“How’re things with Hutton coming?”

“In a matter of weeks, I’ll have charge over him.”

“Though you’re brothers, because of Hutton’s special needs it’ll be like taking in an older child, huh?”

“Unless I make great strides earning Hutton’s trust, I may let my entire family down.” No matter what the cost, he couldn’t let that happen. His heritage taught him to respect his elders.

“Might help if you’d spend every spare minute you can with him so he’ll feel comfortable living with you when the time comes. Bring him to our Sunday-school class.”

“Great idea. You need help carrying her to Amelia’s room?”

Harker paused at the nurses’ station for a pillow. “No thanks. Proceed. You look like a man on a mission.”

Ben smiled. “I am. A mission to prove to my brother he’s worthy of time and friendship.”

Harker’s stern gaze made a direct hit. “Then I’m curious why you haven’t mentioned him to Amelia or Amelia to him.”

Conviction dropped Ben’s stare to the floor. “I know.” He met her gaze. “I need to.”

“Even if it’s not easy?”

“Especially then.”

She tilted her head at him.

“Anything worth having is worth sweating over, and nothing that truly matters comes easy.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Nurse Bailey held pressure on the spot where Amelia’s IV line used to be.

“Speak for yourself.” Amelia glared at the wound.

“Yippee!” Harker whispered from the doorway. “The IV’s out?”

“Yes.” Amelia moved her sketch pad off the recliner so Miss Harker could lay Reece down. “I get evicted soon.”

Nurse Bailey snickered. “Released.”

Amelia grinned. “You know you’ll miss me.”

Bailey’s smile straightened. “I really will. You come back through or call and let us know how you’re faring. Okay?”

She nodded. Bailey scurried to answer a call light.

“This child can sleep through anything. What a blessing.” Miss Harker tucked a blanket over Reece and Bearby.

Blessing.

That sounded like a churchy word. Amelia studied Glorietta Harker. She seemed to be a woman of faith. Is that why she went worlds beyond duty to reach out in kindness to her and Reece?

“Glorietta, you’re a far shout from what I’ve known of people who were close to God. Or maybe those people weren’t as close to God as I thought.”

“Maybe not as close as they thought, either. And I’m glad you finally decided to call me Glorietta. Progress.” She smiled.

Later, Reece wobbled to sitting up in the recliner. She blinked herself awake and looked around.

“Mommy? Where am I?” She rubbed her eyes, slid off the recliner and scampered onto the bed beside her mom.

“Back at the hospital.” Amelia rubbed her daughter’s bed-head. “I need to run a brush through this.”

“Is Reece’s brush still in your car?” Glorietta, wrapping up her daily visit with Amelia, asked.

“Yes. In the trunk.” A surge of emotion hit Amelia from nowhere. She blinked back tears.

“Well, whatever is wrong?” Glorietta asked.

“It means a lot that you and Ben visit every day. When I was in the hospital on bed rest and pregnant with Reece, no one came.”

Glorietta leaned in and hugged Amelia. No words. Just a hug, which spoke volumes.

Amelia battled barely corked emotion she’d bottled up for five years. “So you see how much your visits have meant. My mother snuck into the hospital to see me but I was sleeping. She left the kit. Said it was from Dad to the baby. It had a baby brush and a big kid brush. At least that’s what Reece calls it. It would be a hard thing to lose.”

“I’ll bring it back when I come. Need anything else?”

“No. Ben went to the garage and brought our drawings. That was the only other thing of value there. Well, I don’t have anything of value, moneywise. But when a person puts their time and heart into something, that’s important.”

“That’s the true meaning of real value, huh?”

Amelia nodded. “Reece draws to entertain us and to express herself. I have a year’s worth of drawings and don’t want to lose them, since they’re irreplaceably sentimental.”

“I’ll bet it’s wonderful to see her art grow over the years.” Glorietta’s eyes sparkled with emotion, reminding Amelia what she’d said about having to give up a baby. Her heart tugged.
Maybe she should change the subject. She didn’t want to open hard wounds when Glorietta had been so loving and kind.

“Though I can’t depend on art as my main source of income, I draw and sell caricatures for decent money. I also draw them as gifts. I made one for you.” Amelia thumbed through her pad and tore a page out. “I’m thankful for everything you’ve done.”

Moisture glittered Glorietta’s eyes as she studied the caricature of a life-sized Bearby and Reece wrapping a heart-shaped French fry around a laughing Miss Harker.

“My pleasure. We all get stuck in places of need sometimes. It’s not fun. It hopefully teaches sensitivity to others in their season of need when we have plenty. Which reminds me, I have something for you, too.” She presented a book-shaped package, wrapped in beautiful wrapping paper. “Wait to open it until after I leave.” She winked and hugged them goodbye.