“Who are you?”

Amelia fought against the urge to demand to know why he held her daughter in his arms. Reece didn’t warm easily to anyone. Strangers terrified her.

The man cradled Reece’s head in a tender way that made Amelia’s heart dip. Child in arms, he rose on powerful legs and approached. As a priceless jewel set in precious metal, he placed Reece beside Amelia on the hospital bed.

“My name’s Ben Dillinger. Your daughter found me in the parking lot of the mall where you fainted.” Questions sparked deep in his brown eyes. “Why did you faint?”

“That isn’t any of your business,” she whispered.

“When I see a life in jeopardy, it becomes my business. You were driving when you passed out, and your car crashed into a pole. You nearly died today.”

Amelia had always faced life head-on without backing down. But suddenly, the pressure threatened to do her in. “What am I gonna do?”

“Let me help you, Amelia.”

“But why?”

“Because I care.”

CHERYL WYATT

An RN turned stay-at-home mom and wife, Cheryl delights in the stolen moments God gives her to write action and faith-driven romance. She stays active in her church and in her laundry room. She’s convinced that having been born on a naval base on Valentine’s Day destined her to write military romance. A native of San Diego, California, Cheryl currently resides in beautiful, rustic Southern Illinois, but has also enjoyed living in New Mexico and Oklahoma. Cheryl loves hearing from readers. You are invited to contact her at Cheryl@CherylWyatt.com or P.O. Box 2955, Carbondale, IL 62902-2955. Visit her on the Web at www.CherylWyatt.com and sign up for her newsletter if you’d like updates on new releases, events and other fun stuff. Hang out with her in the blogosphere at www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com or on the message boards at www.SteepleHill.com.

Ready-Made Family
Cheryl Wyatt

Published by Steeple Hill Books™

I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them.

—Hosea 11:4

To my church family at The Vine in Carbondale,

Illinois. I’ve fashioned Refuge Community Church

after everything you are. Thank you for teaching me

how to love God and live out my faith. Thank you

for embracing ethnicity, and for stretching wings of

refuge across every socioeconomic barrier to serve the

community without agenda. Thank you for being a

place where people can come as they are and be loved.

Dear Jesus, this one’s for You.

Help me always write as worship.

Melissa Endlich, every reader touched by these stories

is because you and the Steeple Hill Books team took a

chance on an unknown, unpublished, unproven author.

Thank you from the depths of my heart.

Acknowledgments

Thank-you to Gretchen Reynolds for help with research for Carolina’s outer banks.

Huge thank-you to to Donna Fleisher for all your Air Force assistance. Thank you also to Amn Nolan, Pennock and “BH,” as well as Nancy Barnes, her squadron commander husband and the PJ community at Hurlburt Field who input ideas and answered my gazillion research questions. I appreciate your help with all things pararescue! May God watch over you and keep you safe while you do these things, “So others may live.”

Congratulations to Connie Kuykendall, who won the opportunity to name a character in my book. Gus Johnson is the perfect name for Refuge’s lovable hillbilly mechanic!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

“Mister! Mommy needs help!”

The child’s cry spun U.S.A.F. Pararescue Jumper Ben-li Dillinger on his toes to face its source. Purchases clunked beside his car, Ben’s feet propelled him toward the youngster.

Tears falling from two teddy-bear-big eyes brought Ben, heart and body, to his knees. Speaking of bears, she clutched a tattered brown one.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

Ben scanned Refuge Mall’s parking lot for the mother. Maybe she had car trouble. But it wouldn’t make sense for a parent to send a child this young for help. No vehicle with its hood propped, either. In fact, his was only one of the few remaining since closing time minutes ago. Not only that, the child’s duress surpassed a stranded-car scenario.

A tiny hand tugged him up. “C’mon! Mommy’s over here. Something bad happened!”

Urgency speared Ben. Hand in hand they loped around the building. Near a pharmacy across the deserted lot, a compact car that had seen better days sat, trunk open. Steam billows hissed from a gaping hood accordioned by impact. A dented front bumper hugged a light pole. A motionless human form plastered to the dash spiked Ben’s pulse.

He loosened his hand from the girl’s and ran at a dead run toward the car, then stopped. Kid couldn’t be more than six, seven years old. Too short for an SUV to see if it sped across the lot. Ben circled back, swept her up and sprinted to the fractured vehicle. Primer, faded red paint and rust coated the exterior. The child panted, either from ninety-degree heat or fear.

Closer now, Ben wished for more light from the low-slung southern Illinois sunset and peered through the driver’s side window. A young woman lay slumped over the steering wheel.

Wavy, light brown hair spilled over her cheeks and dusted the dash. Fog misted the inside glass, prohibiting him from assessing her further. At least the haze indicated she had to have been breathing recently. Child still hoisted with one arm, Ben yanked the driver’s side door handle with his free hand.

Locked. And hot.

“Ma’am?” He pressed his face to the front glass. Palm flat against it, he pounded on it, then the side window. Nothing. Hand fisted, he banged harder, called louder. “Ma’am!”

He set the little girl down on the curb and gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Stay put, princess. I’m a paramedic. I’ll help your mom.”

If it’s not already too late.

Ben hustled down the length of the car. Jerked the back door handle. Resistance met his effort. Hands cupped against the glass, he peered, called and pounded.

Other than music wafting like a dirge from within, eerie, dead silence entombed the interior. He imagined ovenworthy temperatures inside the car could fry eggs on the dash.

Was she even still breathing? He squinted.

Patches of deathly pale skin peeked through her mass of curls, identical to the little child’s in color and texture. What part of her arms he could see below her T-shirt hinted at pink. Good. Not mottled or cyanotic. His own breathing slowed.

Rushing to the passenger side, Ben flipped open his phone, dialed 911 with one hand, tried the doors with his other.

All locked.

He reported his name, credentials, findings and location to the dispatcher then remained on the line. Car couldn’t be as old as he’d thought. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have those child safety locks. He’d kick a window out if he had to.

“Jesus, please.” Ben ran moist palms over his shorts and looked around for something besides himself to break in with.

Trunk.

Yes! He dived in, shoved a plastic bag aside and crawled through. Scrambled over the folded-down backseat, entering the car as the child had probably exited. Smart kid. How long had they sat here before she’d gone for help?

Car was definitely DOA but the radio was still running. Weird. He recognized the song as one he’d learned chords to during worship practice at Refuge Community Church this morning.

Ben climbed in and turned the radio down. “Miss?”

No answer.

Hand on her sweat-drenched shoulder, he leaned bare knees to sit and counted her breaths. He pressed two fingers to that spot on her neck and hoped to feel life pulse beneath his fingers. Her shoulders rose and fell with the sweet breath of life. With respirations present, she had to have a heartbeat.

What was the deal?

Ben increased the pressure of his fingers in tiny increments. There. Yes. Thank You. His own heart rate slowed.

Moist hair clung to the victim’s face. Ben brushed it away and updated the dispatcher. “Other than a mask of pallor, she looks peaceful in slumber.” Except a young mother wouldn’t sneak a Sunday afternoon snooze in a scalding parking lot.

“I have an inkling something’s up with her heart.” Translucent gray lips blended into her face. Same starkly pale color. Not a hint of pink. Mauve-blue circles ringed her eyes.

“Caucasian female, early twenties, small build. Pulse weak and erratic. Respiratory rate normal but shallow. She’s over-heated, though not dangerously.” Phone to ear, Ben informed her there was an unattended child with the unconscious driver.

“Sir, we have a unit en route but they have a long detour due to a broken-down train blocking the tracks across Main. It may take longer than normal for them to arrive.”

“Ten-four. If her stats change, I’ll contact you.”

Hands beneath the woman, he lifted her torso off the steering column and leaned her against the seat. Palming a lever on the side, he tilted it back. Careful with her neck in case she’d injured it, he lifted her chin, opening her airway. The movement elicited a weak moan but other than that, no response.

Probably she’d become incapacitated prior to running into the block. Hard to tell since she didn’t have her seat belt on.

Ben dipped his head out the passenger door and gave the child a reassuring smile. “Ambulance is on its way.”

Hopefully it’d get here soon, but the ambulance service sat blocks from Refuge’s lone hospital, located clear across town.

Wrist tilted, he peered at his watch. Needed to meet his younger brother Hutton at the airport in…a short hour.

Hutton’s frequent panic attacks and Mosaic Down Syndrome made it difficult for him to travel by air to begin with, much less fly alone as he’d done today. Ben not being there to pick Hutton up could propel him over the edge and bomb to bits any bridge of progress Ben had made with Hutton’s trust.

The little girl inched from the curb to the door. Big brown eyes grew wider with each shuffling step. “What’s a matter with her?” She chewed the end of her finger and her chin quivered as she peered beneath long eyelashes at her mother.

Heart caught, Ben wanted to scoop her up and hug her, but didn’t suppose he should, being a stranger.

“Not sure. Help’s coming, though.” The faded seat creaked when he pivoted into a better position to face the youngster.

Huge tears bubbled, then dripped from a pair of eyes struggling to be more brave than scared as they glistened at him. When she stepped toward Ben and reached up tiny hands, he couldn’t help it. He opened his arms to her. The waif of a girl moved like a minimissile. He lifted. She scrambled up in his lap then burrowed beneath his chin. Tucked herself into his chest like she belonged there.

Rivulets of sweat trailed down his back. Pink ribbons affixed like fluffy tiaras atop her head tickled his neck as he leaned over the mother and rolled down the driver’s window. The little girl’s hair felt squeaky clean. Groomed and cared for. A warm breeze lifted the strands, bringing hints of strawberry.

He transferred weight from knees to rump in the seat to monitor the mother and hold her trembling child simultaneously.

With featherlike motions, the little girl rubbed her mom’s arm with one hand and clenched her stuffed animal tighter with the other. “Did she die?” Small whimpers puffed out heart-shaped lips resembling the mother’s. “Because my guinea pig died and never came back to life again and I’d miss Mommy so, so bad if she never came back to life again.” Tears spilled over the rims of her eyes and raced down rosy cheeks.

Ben hugged her closer, wishing he’d anticipated the scope of her fear. “No, princess. Your mommy’s not dead.” Being a U.S. Special Operations airman had trained him to notice every intricate detail about everything. His senses took it in automatically no matter the situation. He regretted not picking up on her fright and distortion about her mother’s condition.

“B-but she won’t wake up. L-like my guinea pig. I tried and tried to wake Mommy. But I couldn’t.” She shuddered.

“She only passed out,” Ben explained. “Honest.”

“P-passed out what?”

“No, I mean she fainted. It’s like a deep sleep is all. Can you remember what happened?” He placed a soothing hand on her back, moving his thumb side to side much the same way he strummed his guitar strings during worship. He prayed silent songs for God to comfort her and chase away fear.

She shrugged one shoulder. “We was in the store to buy some, um, um, I can’t tell ya that part.” She dropped her voice to whispers and fiddled with the buttons on her denim overall dress.

“That’s okay. Tell the part after you left the store,” Ben whispered back.

“We got in the car and Mommy told me to buckle up. Only she didn’t buckle in Bearby like usual.”

Panic surged Ben’s heart rate. “Bearby?” Dear God, don’t let there have been another child in this car who wandered off. Ben scanned the parking lot and started to scoot from the seat when scraps of tattered yarn thrust in his face.

“Bearby’s my…well, it was supposed to be a baby but Mommy’s only learning how to sew. He looks lots like a bear and a little like a baby so I named him Bearby.” The girl suspended the toy in front of Ben’s face.

“Ah. Got it.” He peeked around the bear-baby thing. “So, there weren’t other children in your car?”

She shook her head and rubbed a frayed loop of Bearby’s worn string hair. One blink later a faraway expression embraced her features and she veered Bearby back in front of Ben’s nose. “He doesn’t like to be ignored.”

“Oh. My bad.” Ben took Bearby’s paw-hand between his two fingers and shook gently. “Nice to meet you, Bearby. I’m Ben.” He raised his vision to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Not s’pose to tell ya since you’re strange. But if you asked Bearby, he’d say I was Reece North.”

Ben reassessed the mother. Nothing had changed. She didn’t look worse, but she didn’t look better either. A prayer song worked its way into his mind. Giver of life… He whispered it over the woman. When he looked up, he caught the child watching him curiously.

“What’s your mom’s name?”

“Amelia Grace North, and you can recognize her because one of her eyes goes crooked and she hates that.”

No idea what that meant. Lazy eye, maybe? But the child’s chatter seemed to keep her from fretting about her mother.

“What happened after she forgot to buckle Bearby?”

“She kept breathing long. You know, like you’re going off the diving board. She blinked fast and said she needed to drink and sit but she was in the seat. I tried to get her water. She yelled to get in the car. Mommy never yells, and I cried.”

“I understand.” He leaned down and ran his hand around the floorboard. Bingo. He lifted the worn wallet and located Amelia’s ID. Pretty girl. Organ donor. Twenty-four. Two years younger than him. Must have dropped weight since this photo.

Other than a North Carolina driver’s license, the wallet contained seven dollars in bills, pictures of what looked to be Reece, a few coins and a red construction paper heart engraved with “I love Mommy.” No credit or debit cards. No checkbook. No emergency contact list. Very odd.

He faced Reece. “Then what happened?”

The child rubbed her mother’s cheek with Bearby’s fluff. “She said sorry and we’d get some water at a drive-through. Then she started the car and took off. Her words turned silly and she went asleep when she was driving and we bumped the light.”

“So, she fell asleep before she hit the pole?”

“Yes, sir.” Her head bobbled up at a siren’s whine.

In the distance, blinking red LED lights strobed through a row of white-dotted dogwood trees planted in the median on the far side of the mall.

He rechecked Amelia’s vitals and returned his attention to Reece. “Was she feeling all right earlier today?”

Reece sighed. “I think she was feeling kinda sad today. Grandma and Grandpa are nice to me but mean to Mommy. Yell, yell, yell. That’s all Grandpa does to her. We was living with them, and now we don’t live nowhere.”

The whine of more approaching sirens widened the little girl’s eyes. “Blinkin’ panda cars! The cops are comin’ too?”

Ben chuckled. “Seems that way. They’ll take care of your sick car while the ambulance crew takes care of your mom.” Maybe he should call a family member. “Where is your father?”

“Who knows? He left my mom when I was in her belly.” She dropped her chin to her chest and scooted off his lap.

Gripped with the inexplicable urge to tug her back, Ben resisted. He exited the car, whistled and flagged paramedics over. An echoing whistle sounded beside him.

Arms shot above her head, Reece waved them in crisscross motions too, mimicking Ben’s stance. She watched him instead of the approaching responders. “Met my dad but a judge said he can’t be around me because he’s unfit. Took me to bars where he works and forgot me a few times when I was only a kid.”

Ben stifled a laugh. Seemed to him the girl was still a kid, but in her mind she must not be. Gusts of compassion moved him. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s his loss, you know?”

Defiant chin tilted skyward, a scowl pinched her freckle-dotted face. “Don’t matter, ’cause we don’t need a man or anyone else around to help us.”

Kid come up with that on her own? Or from something the mother said? Suddenly, uniformed men and women flocked to the scene.

Stepping back, Ben studied Reece, the mother and then their sparse possessions in the seat. Thick emotion settled deep for this young unconscious woman and her daughter.

Clearly they’d fallen on tough times as evidenced by the lone white, lumpy trash bag. Well-worn clothes, toys and holey socks sprigged out its top. A large, black lawn bag resided in the trunk. When he’d moved it aside to enter the vehicle, old pillows and thin blankets had spilled out.

The economy car was clean inside save scattered crayons and coloring pages. High mileage. By the looks of that crinkled hood and inverted bumper, it’d have to go in for significant work. Repairs could cost more than the car’s worth.

Police and EMTs buzzed around the car. Ben relayed information as they tended Amelia. Reece stayed on his heels. Her darting eyes and feet proved her skittish of everyone.

Everyone except him.

Stallings, a local officer who skydived at Refuge Drop Zone, listened to Ben’s report. He rifled through the wallet Ben provided. He clicked his police radio and recited data.

“What are they doing to Mommy?” Drawn near to Ben’s side, Reece monitored the paramedics with distrust as they poked and prodded on Amelia, now flat on a stretcher.

“Helping her.” Ben knelt to eye level. “Everyone needs a little help sometimes. It’s okay to need help, you know?”

Her pert nose squished up at him. “Did you ever need help?” Her voice softened to thoughtful whispers, as though she longed to connect with someone who understood the plight of hard times.

Ben studied her tiny, pearl-smooth hands cradled in his large, work-roughened ones and thought a moment. He honestly couldn’t recall a time in his adult life when he’d been in a situation to need help. Other than dangerous missions with his seven-man PJ team in which everyone’s survival depended on teamwork. His childhood had been a different story.

He was sure the rest of life wouldn’t pass him by without thrusting him into the throes of need again.

Knowing chitchat distracted her from the interventions being carried out on her mother, Ben smiled at Reece and tapped her arm. “When I was about your age, our house burned down. We lost everything except our lives.”

She sucked in a breath. “Everything?”

“Yep. Everything. And we needed lots of help. Even though we were new in town, the Christian churches helped us with food, shelter, clothing and even new toys for me and my brother.”

Though Ben meant his words to sooth, a cynical scowl that made the girl look much older, pulled her eyebrows down below a curtain of thick bangs. “All’s I know’s when we needed help, everyone turned their back. Especially that guy who is supposed to be my dad and his no-good family and the church.”

“I’m sorry. Not every guy is like your dad. And not every church is like that one.”

Her shoulders dipped in an upside-down shrug. “I know. But, try to convince Mommy of that.”

“Your grandparents from North Carolina, too?”

“Yep. The beach. Said if I stay with them, they’d take me swimming all the time. But I want to stay with Mom. She acts tough but she’d get lonely without me.” Reece’s grin gave Ben a glimpse of empty gum space where two teeth were MIA.

A blue sedan pulled up. Miss Harker, the local Department of Children and Family Services caseworker whom he knew from church, exited her vehicle and approached with a smile. Relief lifted weight from Ben’s shoulders. Officer Stallings must have notified her. Ben eyed his watch. He needed to get to the airport stat but felt torn. Reece close stuck to him.

Standing, he gestured toward the caseworker. “Reece, this is Miss Harker. She’s from the Department of Child and Family Services. She’ll watch you while the doctors help your mom.”

Reece’s grip squeezed blood from his hand, turning fingers white. Not the reaction he expected. Miss Harker moved closer.

Panic pounced in Reece’s eyes. She darted behind him, peeking around his leg. “Bearby wants you to watch over us, Mr. Ben. Not her.” She jabbed a finger at Harker before curving it back into her mouth. Then Reece shot perturbed expressions at Harker. Visual declarations that stated she was up for a showdown of wills if necessary.

Miss Harker knelt and held out a gentle but firm hand to Reece. “Come on, honey. I’ll take you and Bearby to get some food. I’ll bet you’re hungry. You like curly fries?”

She first ignored Harker’s hand, then glared as if it held an immunization syringe. “No, thanks. Bearby don’t want to eat.”

Hands to shoulders, Ben guided Reece around. Pandemonium erupted. He needed to leave now to meet Hutton’s plane. Silent pleading skipping across Reece’s tortured eyes clawed at him. Arms twined tight around his, she strained with whale strength that belied her shrimp size.

Harker reached. Reece dived. Buried herself like a soldier under fire in a foxhole, deep in the crook of Ben’s arm, as though trying to cement her place in his embrace. “I—I…Bearby wants Mr. Ben.”

He took a step away.

Tears rushed from her fear-widened eyes, flooding his resolve, fumbling his feet, fencing his intent to leave this instant. But, he’d promised Hutton…

Miss Harker tried to woo and calmly tug the child from Ben. Would’ve been easier to pry himself from entanglement by a colossal octopus with twenty hyperactive tentacles.

Reece shrieked and clawed for his shirt, clearly heading into hysteria. “B-Bearby’ll get scared without Mr. Ben! Please! Please!” Her wails drowned out those of the emergency vehicles.

He peeled her fingers loose. Betrayal in her eyes landed a mortar shell in his chest. Ben looked to Harker for what to do.

Miss Harker smiled at Reece, then eyed him. “Tell you what, Ben. I know and trust you. Seems the little one has taken quite a liking to you. Mind riding with us? Maybe Bearby would feel safer that way.” Miss Harker brushed a gentle hand along Bearby’s misshapen head, careful not to touch Reece.

Visibly relaxed, Reece turned imploring eyes on Ben. “Please, Mr. Ben? Bearby really needs you.”

Something in the girl’s eyes and words sunk emotional hooks into him. By now, Ben figured out she projected onto the beloved toy. He recalled Reece mentioning Bearby doesn’t like to be ignored. Her forlorn tone of voice and the lonely haunt in her eyes had suggested she was all too familiar with what that felt like. Sympathy ambushed him.

But, Hutton…

“Let me see what I can do.” Phone out, Ben dialed his PJ team leader, Joel Montgomery, and asked him to meet Hutton at the airport. Refuge Drop Zone’s skydiving facility, which Joel owned, sat minutes from the airport. Ben would have to trust God to be with Hutton if Joel was late. Hutton didn’t cope well with change. Even altered minor plans became major stressors for him. Hopefully Hutton remembered and recognized Joel. If not, the situation could get sticky.

Satisfied Joel knew what Hutton looked like and would head to the airport ASAP, Ben ended the call and pocketed his phone.

Reece took his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Ben.”

“No problem, princess.” He retrieved her booster seat and art supplies, then walked with her around the dove-gray building to his red Chevy Malibu. He deposited his shopping bags in the trunk and locked it as Miss Harker pulled up. Reece scuttled closer to him and eyed Harker with deadly intent. Ben buckled in the booster, Reece, then Bearby, even though he felt silly. He picked up Reece’s coloring pages as Miss Harker drove them around to follow the ambulance. Chatter would smooth things over.

“You draw these?” He spread pages across the seat.

“All except one.” Reece pulled it from the bottom. A caricature drawing of Bearby holding Reece, both clad in the outfits they wore today.

Wow. “Where’d you have this done?” Outstanding artist.

“Mommy drew it. She draws all the time when she has paper. Isn’t she good?” Reece’s face lit.

“Real good. The best I’ve seen.” He pulled up another paper. This one’s tone seemed different than the rest, drawn in bright pastels. This drawing had a black face with a red frown and huge gray tears. “What’s this one about?”

“For when I felt sad about being a mistake and I didn’t have Bearby to love me.” She grew quiet and solemn.

“You’re not a mistake, princess. You’re a child of God and a treasure to Him.” Wanting to push back whatever dark cloud loomed, Ben slid the page under the seat and held up the caricature. “This really looks like cartoons of you and Bearby.”

“Speaking of cartoons, what’s your favorite?” Miss Harker asked from the driver’s seat, probably to distract her and build rapport. The channel of conversation switched to cartoons, and Ben settled back to listen. And pray. While they talked, questions popped through his mind like automatic weapon fire.

What kind of person would ignore this beautiful gift from God and make her think she was a mistake? Didn’t they know how many couples want children and can’t have them?

Ben thought of his team leader, Joel Montgomery, in the process of adopting another child because of his wife Amber’s infertility. And Ben’s parents, who’d tried for years to have another child after him before conceiving his brother. Though Hutton had MDS, Ben’s parents cherished him. Something Ben hadn’t done until recently.

He’d always been embarrassed about his brother being different before. Now, he was ultraprotective of him, and he wanted to bring Hutton to Refuge so his parents could realize their dream of a year of world travel.

How could he have treated his brother like a sore thumb growing up?

Who in Reece’s life would do something like that?

Ben stared through the ambulance windows, where IV fluids dripped through tubes he knew were attached to both of her emaciated arms. What kind of mom was Amelia North?

From the signs he’d noticed, a good one. Something had caused them to leave in a hurry. But what had led to her poor state of health today? Ben didn’t know. For the struggling single mother’s and little girl’s sakes, he aimed to find out.

He didn’t want any child to go through the hurt he’d put his brother through. Hurt he didn’t know if Hutton had ever fully recovered from. He still didn’t trust Ben fully, which was why Ben’s insides twisted that he couldn’t be at the airport for Hutton as he’d promised.

He prayed Joel would find Hutton before he wandered off somewhere in a state of confusion and panic. A personal code of duties wouldn’t let him leave Reece until he made sure she was okay. Her mother’s problems were life-threatening, sure, but hopefully only temporarily so.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Ben helped Reece out and handed her Bearby. “The police officer obtained your grandparents’ phone number and will notify them about your mom.”

Nothing could have prepared him for the horror striking Reece’s face. “Oh, no! You didn’t call them! They’ll hate Mommy and for sure think she’s bad now. If they take me, Mommy’ll hate you for callin’ the cops! Why did you? Grandpa and Grandma won’t help her. They’ll just yell and take me from her like they said!” Terror oozed from sodden eyes.

Why would they want to take Reece from her mother? Was she unfit? Or did the grandparents have issues not conducive to child rearing? What if they were cruel, and Ben telling Officer Stallings about them would cost Amelia custody?

Ben couldn’t have felt worse if a bullet whizzed through his ribs. Tumultuous questions blew through him like three hundred MPH winds—threatening to bow him sideways.

Questions that demanded answers.

For Reece’s sake, he would not rest or relent until he had them. He didn’t walk away from something like this. Didn’t turn his back on defenseless ones who cry out that something’s wrong and they can’t make it right. When someone couldn’t fight for themselves, Ben would do it for them. Had always been that way, took up for those who couldn’t take up for themselves.

Except his own brother.

But he had a second chance to make things right. Nothing could mess that up. He refused to let anything get in the way of taking over care of Hutton in his downtime. He’d figure out plans for what to do with Hutton during missions.

Wonderment stole over Ben as he studied Reece. So much like Hutton. Childlike. Dependent. Unconditionally loving. Reaching for normalcy. In need of security. Protection. Nurturing. His heart expanded then squeezed. This child had wiggled her way in it just that fast. When she’d burrowed beneath his arms and chosen to cling with trust that he had a feeling didn’t come easy, she’d embedded herself deep into his heart.

Compassion dropped Ben to his knees to place steadying hands on her moping shoulders. “Reece, listen, we had to call someone. I didn’t have a choice.”

Hurt and betrayal spun like violent hurricanes in the gulf of angry eyes. Like lightning reaching to earth, it jabbed across the space separating them, leaving regret smoldering in the carnage.

“Reece…”

Dark clouds of accusation hovered. Any trace of vulnerability fled her face. Except her bottom lip, which quivered like palm trees in a high wind as it fought to form words. “I thought you were mine and Bearby’s friend. If they come, they’ll take me away. If they take me from Mommy, Bearby and me will never, ever like you again…

“And neither will Mommy.”

Chapter Two

Amelia North awakened to the tallest Asian man she’d ever seen cradling her sleeping daughter. Fierce protectiveness roared to life and lifted Amelia’s shoulders from the bed despite the lancing pain.

But the scene in the nearby chair stilled her. Reece, a portrait of serenity, slept soundly. Her head rested on the stranger’s broad shoulder, a pillow of muscles on a pillar of strength. At least to her artist’s eye.

Childhood memories of naptime with her dad strolled through Amelia’s mind uninvited. Nostalgic father/daughter images stepped forward to hug her conscience. A hard lump formed in her throat. She stiffened her shoulders and swallowed, forcing it back down to that unfeeling place. Vaulted her heart shut against the emotional onslaught.

It hurt too much to feel. Hurt even worse to hope for restoration. She’d made too many mistakes, and forgiveness apparently didn’t exist in her father’s DNA.

Never mind that. What on earth was going on? Where was she? Amelia took in the room, feeling like she’d been dropped off in the twilight zone. The sterile environment, antiseptic smell and bland, generic room décor notified her that she’d obviously landed herself in a hospital or mental ward.

Then she remembered.

Parking lot. Wave upon wave of dizziness. Vision blurring. Hearing fading and returning, fading and returning. Quivering muscles. Failed motor function. Body sinking into the swirling deep, pulled by invisible undertows. Periphery closing in. Arms weak. Face numb. Hands fighting to steer to safety in a torrent of impending blindness. Reece’s screams. Then total, terrifying blackness. Horrendous crunching. Desperately uttered prayers for Reece’s protection and for God to send someone to help. Then nothing.

Then sketches of remembrance dawned of hazy words whispered in a cappella melodies to a song she’d never heard by a voice she didn’t recognize.

Giver of life, oh Living Water, King of All Kings, Merciful Father, Lord of all Lords, Faithful and Righteous, Breathe on her Your Sweet Breath of life.

Maybe this man could fill in the missing pieces.

Amelia cleared her throat, bringing his attention from a newspaper. The strangest sensation drifted through her that he’d known the precise instant she’d awakened but waited for her to engage conversation.

“Who are you?” She gritted her teeth against the urge to demand her daughter back and to know why he held her in the first place. The weirdest thing was Reece didn’t warm easily to anyone. Strangers terrified her.

The man cradled Reece’s head in a tender way that made Amelia’s heart dip with an old familiar ache. Without warning, it awoke a five-year-long yearning for Reece to have a father figure in her life.

Child in arms, he rose on powerful legs and approached. Sinewy with strength, arms the color of warm embers handled Reece as one might an exquisite china doll. As a priceless jewel set in precious metal, he placed her beside Amelia in the bed.

Precision and control defined him as he took delicate care to position Reece’s head in the bend of Amelia’s elbow. The back of his hand brushed her forearm as he slid his hand out from between them. Amelia’s skin tingled in the wake of his warmth.

She swallowed the want of human contact away. Not physical—she’d learned that lesson the hard way. It was emotional intimacy she craved.

Stop it. How dare you? You don’t deserve it. Furthermore. you don’t know him.

No doubt a brain injury had brought her here. Otherwise her mind and emotions wouldn’t be rivaling for the ridiculous and vying for the absurd.

Calm, cool gaze rising to meet hers, he leaned near enough so that she caught whiffs of masculine soap. Creaks sounded as powerful fists closed around her side rail. She thought the thing might crack under his pressure. Guy had to be a body builder or some sort of Olympian.

“My name’s Ben Dillinger. Your daughter found me in the parking lot of the mall where you apparently fainted from dehydration.” Mouth flattened to a straight line. Muscles rippled along his chiseled cheek. Questions sparked deep in his brown eyes. His imposing height, commanding presence, and quiet yet unwavering confidence made her want to cringe and cover her head with the gauzy hospital blanket.

This was not the sort of guy you’d want to contend with as an enemy. Conversely, he struck her as the kind of person who, if on your side, would fight to the death for you if need be.

How she’d wished for that kind of friend all her life. The closest person to it was her cousin Nissa who was both her best friend and her biggest thorn. When Nissa was there, she was a rock. But when she got on her flighty, impulsive streaks, forget it. She couldn’t be counted on. Of course, part of it Nissa couldn’t control due to her bipolarism. But still, when she went off her meds—look out.

Amelia cleared her throat and tried to insert bravado in her voice. “Well, thanks. You’re free to go now.”

But the man just stood there, looking at her as if he couldn’t quite figure out what planet she’d orbited in from.

Then he narrowed his eyes but not in a judgmental way. “Why aren’t you getting enough to eat?” He raked a hard gaze over shoulders and arms that she knew had grown too thin.

Self-consciousness jolted through her in waves. He couldn’t possibly understand the circumstances that had brought her to this point. Or how fear kept her from eating. Fear that Reece wouldn’t have enough. Fear she’d have to crawl on knees of humiliation and beg, only to be denied again. She resisted the urge to tuck loose sprigs of hair behind her ears. If it looked as mussed as it felt, no wonder he stared.

So what that she wasn’t as attractive as other women? Wasn’t like she could help being born with a lazy eye. It never bothered her unless she found herself in the presence of an extremely attractive man. Like right now.

Being a single mom took everything she had. As much as she longed to, she couldn’t afford the time or money required to keep up with modern haircuts and clothing styles like her single and childless friends. Or at least the friends she used to have. When Reece came along, her friends vanished one by one.

“I’m not starving myself. This isn’t your business, but I feed her plenty if that’s what you’re worried about,” she whispered.

His brows rose. “Not my business? When I see a life in jeopardy, especially a child, it becomes my business.” His voice lowered when Reece stirred.

And what a voice…like liquid velvet.

That he placed huge but gentle hands protectively over Reece’s ears stirred emotions she’d thought had disappeared. Neither Reece’s father nor her own cared who heard when they’d yelled at her. At least her father had never been physically violent like Reggie. Thankfully he was out of her and Reece’s lives for good.

The darkening storm twisting Mr. Dillinger’s face cautioned she might be about to get a serious verbal lashing. Something she’d grown accustomed to in life. Amelia tensed and steeled herself. After all, she deserved it.

She’d endangered her daughter’s life today.

Shame crushed her under its weight and threatened to push long-held-back tears from her eyes. She blinked desperately. What if he saw to it that her daughter was taken from her? Would he?

Could he? Amelia seemed to remember bits and pieces of a DCFS caseworker being here. Had she dreamt that? Was the woman coming back for Reece? Amelia couldn’t contain the violent trembling in her fingers.

His vision dropped to her hands before looking back up to her face. As if sensing her emotions, her fear, and noticing the acute tremors, his expression softened by detectable shades. His stance relaxed by fractions. Sharp guy. Didn’t miss a stitch.

He leaned back. “But it just so happens I’m not that worried about her. It’s you I’m concerned about. Your daughter told me you hardly eat. What food you have, you give to her. You nearly died today.”

The truth exploded in her head. One by one, the words chased each other through her mind. You nearly died today. Then where would Reece be? Who would care for her? What kind of life would she have? No one would love her as much as Amelia. No one. Therefore, no one would care for Reece better. She’d almost ruined her daughter’s life today by becoming absent from it.

Just as fast as the rebuke sliced through her, Amelia’s brain reverted back to the “It’s you I’m concerned about” part.

When was the last time anybody cared about her or showed concern? Something melted in her toward Ben, but Reggie’s vicious face surfaced in her mind like a mental taunt. She fought to refortify the boundaries around herself. Men were cruel and self-serving and not to be trusted. She’d do well to stay as far away from them as possible, physically and emotionally.

Yet Mr. Dillinger hadn’t yelled. The tense bunch in her shoulders relaxed a measure.

A new layer of softness entered his eyes as his gaze washed over her. He didn’t stare at her lazy eye like other men. Nor avoid her face out of pity. Nor did he seem to struggle with not knowing which eye to look in. He held his gaze like his stance, steady and strong and sure.

If she could attach a word to his expression, she knew what it would be. She also knew she didn’t deserve it in the least.

Mercy.

Even her parents, two people who should love her more than anything no matter what, had told her so. Constantly reminded her of how she’d messed up her life with one wrong choice one indiscreet night her senior year, when Reece was conceived.

She’d naively thought Reggie would marry her when she’d told him she was carrying his child. Instead of banding her finger, he’d bruised her body. Beat her up when she refused to “get rid of it.” He’d pummeled her stomach, nearly causing her to miscarry. Told her at the police station when she pressed charges that he wished she had lost it.

One year ago, he’d resurfaced, claiming he’d changed and convinced her he wanted to know his daughter. Come to find out, he only wanted to retaliate at Amelia for pressing charges for the assault during her pregnancy.

Subsequent astronomical hospital bills with no insurance thrust her into debt. Care and medication required to keep her pregnancy viable after the assault had cleared her bank accounts and eaten away her college fund. She’d spent the last five frugal years paying off her debts, starting with medical ones and ending with money owed her parents.

Saving her daughter’s life had been worth it.

Tense seconds ticked by as Amelia and Ben stared at one another, communicating yet not. Clearly, he waited for an explanation and wasn’t about to leave until he had one.

For once, Amelia was just too weak and tired to fight. And something in his eyes called to her. A flicker of caring?

What could she say but to be honest? She certainly didn’t want her daughter to be taken away. They might as well bury her if that happened. Reece was her life.

Which was why she left her parents and their constant de-meaning of her mothering. Worse, doing it in front of the daughter she tried her best to care for. But with her father, her best was never good enough. And her mom never stood up for her.

Amelia thought for sure God felt the same apathy and disdain toward her. Otherwise, He wouldn’t churn the category-five winds and rip her sails every time she managed to surface from the last ocean of adversity life whipped her into.

Her entire existence had been one long, roiling storm of struggle, and Amelia could no longer envision a clear blue sky anywhere on the horizon. If she could just get out of this hospital and get to the new job that waited for her, she and Reece could get a fresh start.

Speaking of hospitals, how would she pay the bill? Tears threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t catch up no matter how hard she tried.

Growing increasingly uncomfortable beneath the pressure of the stranger’s scrutinizing gaze, she drew a much-needed breath and dropped her gaze to the blanket. Making sure Reece still slept, Amelia worked up courage to admit the truth.

Her fingers fiddled with fiber at the edge of the hem. “It’s not because I don’t want to eat. Times are hard.” She cleared her throat to remove the clog in her voice.

“There are food banks.”

It wasn’t just his tone that told her he wasn’t buying her story. The stubborn set to his jaw and determined glint in his eyes did.

Why would a complete stranger care when her own family and supposed friends didn’t?

She glanced at his pressed khaki shorts and brown leather loafers. A black polo shirt was stretched tight across a well-developed chest. Obviously he appreciated nice things. His immaculate appearance made her all the more self-conscious. She tugged the hospital gown tighter. It could have wrapped around her twice. He seemed aware of every move she made.

Why did she care what he thought of her? What right did he have to stand here and stare? And interrogate her?

He saved your life.

Well, yeah, there was that. Maybe he was some kind of cop or something. Someone who had a right to know Reece was secure. Who was he? What did he do for a living? Something physical for sure. Military, maybe. Yeah, that had to be it. Or maybe his militant determination just made it seem so.

Another horrendous thought blew through her mind. “I remember a crash…”

“You were driving when you passed out. Your car crashed into a pole.”

Crashed.

The room swam. She didn’t want to know, couldn’t face the question pounding her brain or dodge the dollar marks blowing into her mind like a thousand wayward leaves. She swallowed. She could barely afford to keep oil, gas and wind-shield wiper fluid in the car, much less pay for repairs. Or worse, another car.

A sigh escaped, challenging the grit she’d garnered within to make it no matter what, and do it without complaining. She’d always faced whatever life brought her head-on without whining, breaking or backing down. For the first time in her life, the pressure threatened to do her in.

“What am I gonna do?” Had she said that aloud? For sure, she was on the verge of losing it. Folding under pressure. Just like her parents predicted she would.

“Let me help, Amelia.”

Ben’s soothing voice pulled her from the mental mire. She studied him. What she interpreted as deep concern emanated from his eyes.

Even if the remote possibility existed that he honestly cared…“You must have an ulterior motive.”

“I care. Period.”

If that were the case and she caved and accepted, that meant losing. And she wasn’t about to let the naysayers win. It wasn’t that she cared about losing as much as she feared losing Reece if her parents’ predictions came true.

“I can’t. Period.”

Chapter Three

Ben held his tongue when Reece stirred. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, yawning. The transformation in Amelia mystified him.

Her face lit with an incalculable amount of love when she scooped up the girl as if she were a long-sought-after, newly found treasure. “Hey, Reece’s Pieces. Have a good nap?”

Reece hugged her mom back, then scuttled beside her to eye the tubing in Amelia’s arm. “Is that the medicine that fixed your electric lights, Mommy?”

Amelia blinked and eyed the IV, then Reece. Confusion crossed her features.

Fighting frustration at Amelia’s reticence to his help, Ben picked Bearby off the floor where he’d fallen when Reece sat up. He set the toy in her lap. “Yes, that medicine is fixing your mom. Only they’re called electrolytes. Something that when you get too dry, can cause your heart to go haywire.”

Amelia’s throat muscles constricted, letting him know he got his point across. Fear and remorse in her eyes told him she realized how life-threatening her lack of intake had become.

Silent, Reece watched the nonverbal exchange between her mother and Ben before wringing Bearby like a wet dishrag. No wonder the thing looked so tattered and misshapen. Kid never let it out of her sight. She clearly used it for comfort and apparently needed its remedy a lot.

God, please put some stability in this child’s life.

Forcing a smile, Ben adapted a lighthearted tone. “But your mom’s better now, so there’s no need for you and Bearby to worry.” Ben ruffled Reece’s hair, then tickled Bearby beneath where he thought the chin might be.

Amelia’s eyes went wild all of a sudden and darted over every surface in the room. “My wallet—”

“Is locked in the safe at the nurses’ station along with all your money,” Ben said.

“Did the doctor say when I could get out? I have to start my new job in another state—” her head tilted toward the wall clock “—a week from Tuesday.”

Eyebrows up, Ben said, “You might want to call them. You’re gonna be a few days late.” Didn’t the girl realize her car wasn’t drivable? “The mechanic said two weeks minimum.”

Amelia’s face paled. “Two weeks?” She threw off the covers and let down the metal rail. “I can’t wait that long. They might not hold the job.” Snapping to her feet, she tried to reach for the IV stand but tottered sideways.

Arms snaked out, Ben lunged forward and steadied her. The contact startled them both. Frozen, they stood face-to-face, staring. Neither moved for the longest instant. Ben couldn’t shake the thought that she felt so right in his arms.

Oh-kay. He definitely needed sleep.

“Take it easy. You’re not leaving Refuge tonight. Certainly not in the next five minutes.” He relaxed his grip on her arms, which were surprisingly more toned than he’d anticipated.

Expression dazed, she slid back to the bed. “But—I need to get to Missouri. We need time to get settled.” Her eyes glazed with moisture but she turned away from Reece and bit her lip. Hands steepled, Amelia pivoted from Reece’s line of sight and unleashed luminous eyes on Ben. “Did you bring me here?”

He shook his head. “Ambulance.”

Her eyes widened. “How much will that cost without insurance?”

“Two or three grand.”

She swallowed, shuttering her expression when she found Reece watching. “Okay, that’s doable.”

Tremors repossessing her hands told a different story. Able to assess body language with microprecision, Ben knew her weak smile was forced. He deducted that a couple grand would devastate their current financial situation. Not counting the cost of car repairs. Again, the urge to help seized him.

In Ben’s experience, when thoughts grew this persistent, God was usually behind the nudging.

Amelia turned on cartoons for Reece then faced Ben. “I need to get something from my car.”

“It’s impounded.”

Head dipped, her lips parted, letting loose a gasp. “Wha—”

Ben leaned in, keeping his voice low on account of Reece. “Registration isn’t in your name. Nor is the insurance up to date.” He’d discovered that while searching the glove compartment to find her parents’ names, which he’d given to Officer Stallings.

“But I gave the money for insurance to my dad and he said he—” She drew a deep breath and fumbled for the call light. “I need to get out of here.” Her thumb pressed the button numerous times as if firing a stream of torpedoes out of a submarine weapons hatch.

“Yes?” A voice broke through a speaker above her bed.

“I’m awake. I need to talk to my nurse, please.”

Crackle. “I’ll send her in.” Click.

“Thank you.”

Crackle. “Welcome.” Click.

Ben checked his phone for a message from Joel, who’d promised to call after getting Hutton’s prescriptions filled. Joel would read the labels and know Hutton had to take his meds with food. His own stomach rumbled at the thought.

Maybe if Stallings was still on duty, he’d let Ben retrieve the items Amelia sought from her car. Question was, would Amelia trust him with the task? His stomach growled audibly this time.

“Hungry?” Amelia stared at his midsection.

“A little.”

She waved a dismissive hand toward the door. “Feel free to go get something to eat. I—I mean, not that I think you have to come back—”

He grinned. “Trying to get rid of me?”

Her eyes widened. Pretty color of brown, like Reece’s. Far lighter than his.

“Of course not. I—I just meant—”

His hand circled her arm gently. “Kidding. Take it easy. I’m here because I want to be. That all right with you?”

She leveled Ben with a look. “Not sure yet.”

He smiled. “Least you’re honest.” She’d gotten so flustered, she was downright adorable.

Her eyes rolled. “And you’re pushy, not to mention bossy.”

“Let’s not forget nosy.” By no means conceited, Ben was humbly confident. “And nice-looking.” He kept a straight face.

Reece covered her chin and giggled.

Amelia dipped her head, but he caught the grin chasing the frown from her mouth. He got the feeling smiles were a rare commodity for her. He couldn’t kick the urge to help her. At least offer. Who knew if she’d be a willing recipient? Only way to find out was test the waters and try to build rapport.

“And according to Reece, I’m strange.” He poked a gentle finger into Reece’s arm. She giggled again, and this time, her smile remained.

Amelia watched the interaction with what he interpreted as guarded interest. “I teach her not to talk to strangers. She gets words mixed up sometimes.”

His wink found Reece. “Happens to the best of us.” He returned his attention to Amelia. “They brought a food tray a few minutes before you woke up. You should try to eat.”

Shame darkened her features as she eyed the room until she found the tray. She started to stand.

Palm up, Ben stopped her. “Please, allow me.”

He wheeled the creaky bedside tray over her knees in the bed. He hit the lever to adjust the table height but it caught. Too high for her to eat on. He fiddled with another lever. The table came down. Hard.

“Yow!”

Heat scorched his face and he lifted the tray off her knees. He cast his best sheepish grin. “Sorry. I never was any good at working those things.”

She rubbed her knee and eyed him through long lashes, much the way Reece had at the mall. “Since you saved my life, I’ll forgive you one little bruised knee.”

He nodded, containing his reaction over seeing a quest for truce enter her eyes. And the hint of a captivating smile that he knew if turned up to full wattage would knock his jump boots off.

Amelia waved Reece close. “Here, try some of this.” She offered what looked and smelled like a tuna salad croissant.

“My tummy’s full, Mommy. Mr. Ben and Miss Harker got me something to eat at the big house. And see what else I got?” She lifted a plastic tiara. “This came with my chicken nuggets.”

“What’s the big house?” Amelia asked.

“Refuge Bed and Breakfast. To my estimation, it houses the best restaurant in town. Country dishes. Real eggs fried in bacon grease. Heart-attack-on-a-plate kind of meals. Though they do offer healthy alternatives.”

Reece bounded on her knees in the bed. “Mommy, you have to go there. They have curly fries as long as your leg.”

Amelia pulled Reece close. “Is that right? Who’s Miss—?”

The door swished open. A nurse with a name tag bearing Bailey, RN scurried in. “Sorry about that. I was tied up with a new admit. Good to see you awake and coherent.” Smiling, she switched out Amelia’s IV fluid.

“You’re hanging another bag?” Amelia eyed the wall clock.

“Yes, ma’am. You were severely depleted. You’re fortunate. When you came in, the electrical conductivity of your heart wasn’t firing well. We’re playing catch-up. We’ll draw blood in the morning. If your potassium’s back on track, you could be discharged Tuesday to rest. The doctor will want to follow up with you Wednesday. Make sure nothing more ominous is going on.”

“But I don’t live here. We’re just passing through town. I’m on my way to a secretarial job in Missouri. Waiting is out of the question.” Panic piggybacked Amelia’s words.

Nurse Bailey raised raven brows. “Tuesday would be the earliest you’d be released. We need to be sure you’re able to keep liquids in and maintain normal potassium ranges on your own. Not only that, Doc Callahan has a strict policy to have hospitalized patients return to his office for a follow-up visit two days after discharge.”

Silence blanketed the room. It was so heavy, Reece must have noticed. Her hand ceased coloring, and she regarded her mom carefully. Amelia’s lazy eye started twitching. Nervous trait, maybe? Other than that, she didn’t reflect the anxiety Ben knew blasted her the second those words left Bailey’s lips.

Amelia brushed her hand down Reece’s back. “We’ll need to find a way around that.” Her voice remained unruffled, but the pulse at her neck fluttered. “Maybe I could follow up with a doctor in Missouri.”

Bailey regulated the IV drip rate. “Not sure that’s an option. Besides, I gather your car’s in worse shape than you.”

Amelia’s eyes sought Ben.

He pocketed his hands, mostly to keep from placing them on her shoulders in comfort. “When you crashed after fainting, your car didn’t fare well.” He paused to let her soak in the news.

Her enthralling eyes watered. She blinked and hid her face from Reece but one tear escaped.

His fingers ached to brush it, and her pain, away. “Once the police release it to a garage, it’ll be in automobile ICU awhile, I’m guessing.”

Bailey cast a kind smile. “And I’m afraid Dr. Callahan won’t release you if he thinks you’re gonna skip town. Maybe your man here can find you all a place to stay for a few nights.”

Amelia’s face flamed. “He’s not, we’re not—”

“I’m a friend,” Ben finished for her, though they’d only just met and weren’t friends. Yet. He wanted to spare her dignity.

The nurse halted and cut him a sour look. “But I assumed you were family, all the questions you were asking.” She peered at Amelia. “You okay with him being in here?”

Properly scolded, Ben nibbled his lip. He felt oddly busted out even though it hadn’t been his idea to stay. Miss Harker apparently had a “tense situation arise” with Amelia’s parents that she didn’t want to solve with Reece in earshot.

“He saved my life and possibly my daughter’s. I think he just wants to make sure we’re going to be okay.”

Head lifted, Ben met and held Amelia’s gaze. “Besides, I was watching Reece for Harker.” He faced the nurse. “She must have gotten hung up.” She’d gone downstairs to talk to Amelia’s family by teleconference with the doctor. Maybe he ought to go investigate the holdup.

Nurse Bailey plumped Amelia’s pillows. “All right, then. I assumed because he came in with you, and your little girl insisted on him staying, that he was family. My apologies for breaking any confidentiality. I’m usually rigorous about checking visitors, but we’ve been swamped this evening.” She cast apologetic, motherly glances at Amelia. Then her smile vanished as she slashed another zesty look at Ben.

Uh-oh. Not even Amelia’s endorsement had gotten him added to Bailey’s friends list. No doubt if Amelia oracled the orders, Bailey’d bounce him right out of here.

“I haven’t properly thanked him anyhow.” Amelia eyed the phone, then Bailey. “Does it cost to use that?”

“Not for local calls. It won’t let you call long distance unless you use a card or it’s added to your bill.”

Amelia’s face fell. Ben spotted her attempt to hide it. He doubted Reece picked up on it since Amelia seemed ultra-mindful of choosing discreet words and controlling facial reactions. She lifted her arm as Bailey approached with a blood pressure cuff.

A beep sounded from the IV machine. Reece’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”

Ben pointed to the puffy cuff. “This gadget hushes flow for a second when it hugs your mom’s arm. This alerts nurses. It’s loud because it doesn’t know when they’re in the room.”

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.

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