Kitabı oku: «Ready-Made Family», sayfa 3

Shards of respect sanded rough edges off Bailey’s expression as she eyed him curiously and chuckled. “He’s right. It hollers at us to find out what’s clogged it from dripping.”

“Hollers, huh? Hmm. Just like Grandpa. Only he’s louder. You can definitely hear him from the other room.”

“Reece, enough,” Amelia warned. Swooshes sounded as the cuff released. Amelia eyed numbers Bailey scribbled on a clipboard. “About the bill. I don’t have insurance. I’m self-pay. Will making payments be a problem?”

“Shouldn’t. You can phone the billing department tomorrow during business hours and make arrangements.”

After the nurse left, Ben tugged out his cell phone and offered it to Amelia. “Here, use this if you want.”

She stared at it as if he’d presented a scorpion.

He flipped open the phone. “Dial, then press that green button to talk. Red hangs up. I have unlimited minutes. No sense paying for calls when you can use my phone for free.”

The fight grew evident in her face as she eyed his phone then the one by her bed. He wished he could tell her he knew how hard it was to be the one needing help. But he wanted to spare her dignity and protect Reece from understanding the gravity of the dire situation she and her mom were in.

He set the phone on the table. “I’ve got to meet someone and grab a bite to eat. I’ll be back tomorrow morning if that’s okay. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Her eyes fluttered with apprehension. So vulnerable.

Maybe if he wasn’t present, she’d feel better about using the phone. Besides, he needed, wanted to spend time with Hutton.

He handed her a note card with his alternate phone number, the Refuge Police Department’s number and the number of the lone car garage in Refuge scribbled on it. “Here, in case you need to reach me, Refuge PD and the garage to check on your car. I pulled strings with law enforcement to get it worked on until you can prove ownership and get it out of impoundment.”

Looking overwhelmed, she took the card. “How can I prove it’s mine? I don’t have a title. I bought it from my parents.”

“Then they’ll have to fax a title and vouch for you.”

Though her eyebrows drew together into a discouraged frown, a determined glint entered her eyes. “Thank you.”

Ben waved goodbye to Amelia, Reece and Bearby, then slipped out, leaving the phone without a backward glance. It was his personal cell anyway. He had his military phone on him. He’d call Joel, talk to Hutton. See where they planned to meet and buy them some grub.

He figured Amelia would find a way to be gone one blink after her doctor said the words, whether her car was ready or not. He’d do his best to be here before then. He at least wanted to say goodbye. At best, do more to help, which is what he intended to talk with her about.

At the door, Ben peered over his shoulder and found Amelia staring with half apprehension, half hope.

Trapped in the moment, his mind scrambled for words. “If you need anything before tomorrow, feel free to call.”

Even if she were still here in the morning, would she let him help? He might have a fight on his hands. So be it. One thing he loved more than skydiving was chasing a challenge.

And something told him Amelia North fit the bill.

Chapter Four

Amelia wanted to crawl under the covers and die. Well, not die, exactly. Just disappear for a good five minutes. She hated handouts. Hated to be the one burdening people. But the guy was right. No need spending money she didn’t have just because pride trumped common sense.

Speaking of common sense, what kind of crazy guy would leave his phone with a complete stranger? Definitely, this Ben character was cut from a different mold than any other guy she’d encountered.

And what on earth did he want to talk to her about tomorrow? Multiple scenarios hulked through her head, all confrontational. Dread settled in for what he would say when he saw her next. Probably found something else to scold her about.

Well, she could escape and evade all that if she could get out of here and get to her job.

Ugh! But then there was the problem of the doctor wanting her to follow up days after releasing her. If she went against medical advice, that would not only be unsafe healthwise, but an insurance company might decline her as a client once she got caught up enough to afford premiums for her and Reece.

Dialing Refuge’s police department, Amelia asked what she would need to verify ownership of the car. They repeated the information Ben told her and stated they’d given her the benefit of the doubt and towed it to the local garage.

Towed. That meant it wasn’t drivable.

Amelia shook off discouragement and phoned the garage. No answer. She tried again. No answer. Maybe they weren’t open on Sunday. Then how could police have dropped the car off?

She called a third time. After ten rings, a garbled answering machine sputtered on. She left a message after the closest thing resembling a beep. That no one answered, and that the garage answering machine sounded like it needed transmission fluid—or worse, a complete overhaul—didn’t make her feel good.

A knock at the door broke into her thoughts. “Hello, Miss North. It’s Doc Callahan. You decent?”

According to her dad, that was debatable. She adjusted her blankets. “Yes. Please come in.” And let me outta here!

The room curtain parted and he entered. “Nurse Bailey notified me that you’d awakened.”

Ben’s phone rang. A number appeared on the face. “Excuse me a minute. That’s the car garage.”

He nodded and flipped through her chart.

Amelia pushed the button Ben showed her to answer. “Hello?”

“Thiz Eagle’s Nest Vay-hicle Repair-a-returnin’ yer call.”

“Yes, I own the car that police escorted there after it was assaulted by a light pole today.”

A hearty chuckle crossed the line. “Yessum. She’s here. Perty banged up though.”

“When do you anticipate it being ready to go?”

Amelia’s gut clenched at the ensuing silence. Then weird chomping came across the line. Then a belch and more silence.

“We-ell. I don’t rightly know if she’ll ever be ready to go. If there’s a possibilty of ’er a pullin’ through a tall, I’d say yer lookin’ at two weeks…minimum.”

Maybe deep breaths would calm her racing heart and make it stop doing gymnastics in her chest. The feeling made her lightheaded again. And nauseous. She eyed her IV, hoping it would hurry and right her…whatever-those-things-were-called. “Then I’d best let you go so you can work on it.” A little nudging couldn’t hurt, right?

Another chuckle. “I don’t work on Sundies,” the hillbilly-sounding mechanic said. “Check back’n a day or two or three when I’ll know more.”

“Thank you.” Heavyhearted and light-headed, Amelia hung up and faced the doctor.

He motioned to Reece, asleep in the recliner. “She down for the night?”

“Yes. Nurse Bailey brought blankets and pillows. When it’s bedtime, she’ll sleep anywhere. I can’t count how many times I’ve intercepted her face heading for a dinner plate.”

He chuckled, then his smile straightened as he pulled up a wooden chair and sat beside her bed. Uh-oh. Here it comes.

“Speaking of food, Miss North—”

“Please, call me Amelia.”

“Okay, Amelia. Can we talk candidly a moment?”

She nodded. At least he didn’t start out yelling. Still, tears sprang to her eyes. “Look, before you say anything, I know I’ve done wrong.” She sniffed, hating that she couldn’t make herself not cry. “I also know as a doctor you have to discuss this with me. But I want you to know up front I’m not anorexic.”

He nodded. “I believe you. Your lab work and medical examinations don’t show signs of long-term starvation. But as you know, you were dangerously dehydrated when you came in.”

For the first time, Amelia noticed his name tag.

Oncologist?

Isn’t that a cancer doctor?

Her heart nearly stopped. She sucked in a quick breath.

He followed her gaze. “Oh, sorry I didn’t explain before. Refuge is a small town. We don’t yet have a full-time ER doctor on staff. Until physician recruiters hire one, doctors in town take turns doing ER shifts whether they’re in family practice or are specialists. I was on call when you came in. My background is in oncology but I am Refuge’s trauma surgeon now. I think you’re perfectly healthy other than an electrolyte imbalance secondary to flu and severe dehydration.”

She sank back into the bed. “Oh, good.”

Shuffling sounded as he adjusted papers. “But I want to make certain this won’t happen again.”

She sat up. “It won’t. I promise. My life changed today. My baby, having to see me go down like that, then go for help—” Amelia shivered, shook her head, eyed Reece and swallowed. “I’ll make sure I eat enough and keep myself healthy from now on.”

“That’s good. Your potassium is still borderline. You could use a couple more bags of fluid. I’m not comfortable releasing you tonight. I think the safest thing would be to see how you’re doing tomorrow.” He rose. “So I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Thank you.”

He gave her head an affectionate tap with his papers. “Finish your dinner and get some rest. And by all means, if you want a midnight snack, Nurse Bailey knows where the stash is.” He waved and slipped out through the curtain.

Stuck. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow or the next day or the day after.

But he was right. The safest route meant staying. Job or no job, making sure she was well and here to care for Reece took precedence. Amelia sighed and jabbed her fork prongs to the food, knowing this meal would be the first of a new leaf.

Like the romaine lettuce in her chicken caesar salad, Amelia felt crunched in a catch-22: to ensure eating, she had to have this job. It was her best hope. Having memorized the number of her boss-to-be, Amelia swallowed the last morsel, drew a deep breath and phoned his Missouri home with Ben’s cell.

Four rings later, his gravelly voice answered. She explained her situation. In the wake of silence, she pressed her ear to the receiver. Maybe the call got disconnected. “Hello?”

“I’m here—”

Ominous gruffness hurled across the line with harsh expletives. “Get it together and be here a week from Tuesday or the job’s gone.”

Tuesday! That was nine days from now. The mechanic said two weeks minimum on her car, if it could be repaired.

Amelia took a deep breath and resisted the compulsion to beg, borrow and plead. “I just hope you understand how much I want, need, this job, sir. I’ll do my best to be there.”

Amelia hated that her voice and hands quivered.

“If you can’t be here next Tuesday morning, your best isn’t good enough. I need a secretary’s behind in that office chair at eight that morning. Period.” A click, then cold silence.

Heat flamed Amelia’s face. Not embarrassment. Anger. The words went through her like a hot sword from her past.

Your best isn’t good enough.

How many times had she heard that since she’d turned ten?

Doubt assailed her about this new boss. But Nissa had called in a favor, and Amelia needed a job.

She cradled Ben’s phone in her palm and curled it close, enjoying that it smelled like him. She huffed and rolled over. Hopefully sleep would come swiftly. She drifted with one thing ticker-taping through her mind:

No matter how hard her new boss was to work for, no matter what she had to do to get to that job by next Tuesday, she would make sure it happened.

For the third morning in a row, Amelia watched the southern Illinois sunrise brighten her room but not her mood. The flu virus had suddenly reared its fierce head two nights ago, rendering her unable to hold down food or water without the help of IV meds.

Amelia clutched her pocket planner as if staring at it would add days to the week.

She was running out of time.

Sharp knocks echoed off the door, pulling her attention from the calendar of doom and her nausea.

“Come in,” Amelia called in a low voice, eyeing Reece as she slept.

Wiggling his fingers in what Amelia had come to know as his trademark wave, Ben, who’d been coming faithfully every morning, entered with a beautiful African-American woman. Envy pricked Amelia. She mentally chastised herself for having hoped he was unattached. His unwavering presence had been a bright spot in her days.

Watching Amelia watch Ben, a smile crept over the woman’s mocha face. She stepped forth. “Hi, Miss North. I’m Glorietta Harker, the DCFS caseworker present when the ambulance brought you in. I’m also a friend of Ben’s.”

“Hi,” Amelia said. The emphasis the woman put on friend caused Amelia’s heart rhythm to beat erratically. As if the woman perceived Amelia’s thoughts and wanted to reassure her she and Ben were not an item.

Not that Amelia had her sights on the guy or anything. It was completely normal to be attracted to him since he rescued her. Plus, he was tender and caring toward Reece. That, and his velvet voice, scored him points, too.

It wasn’t fair that he looked better today than yesterday. A white T-shirt brought out his creamy complexion. Denim shorts doused him in a down-to-earth flair despite the potent energy in him that blared larger than life. This wasn’t just any guy.

“Hey, Amelia. What’s up?” His slow grin warmed to her toes.

“Not my potassium.” She lifted her arm to show him her IV.

His smile faded. “Bummer. They’d had to restart it?”

“Yeah. My stomach isn’t cooperating.”

“Wow. You seem to be handling it okay though.”

“Yeah. For now.” Only because you being here cheers me up.

Amelia couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was that made Ben Dillinger one of a kind. But he was one of a few men in the world who stop all activity in a room when they walk in. Though a quietly content, almost shy demeanor orbited him, something in this man’s core summoned respect. Precisely the kind of guy who made women’s pulses trip.

Precisely the kind of guy who’d never notice Amelia in a million years.

Yet something in his eyes reached for her beyond a quest for friendship. Every time he looked at her, she felt tangibly embraced with sincere care.

Not that he’d even be remotely interested in her romantically, with all the problems and baggage she had. No guy in his right mind would pursue her.

But one of these days, her life would be different. She’d carve a good life out for her and Reece.

Then nothing would stop her.

Chapter Five

While 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.