by Cheryl Wyatt
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 recogn
ized 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 impe
nding 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.
