by Cheryl Wyatt
He felt a song coming on.
Didn’t the girl know God grows her flowers after winter? Commands the seed to grow, tasks the sun to make them glimmer?
But, he reminded himself, she hadn’t grown up with the kind of family he had. Maybe all she’d ever wakened to was weeds in the grass outside her life’s window.
Awaken her with the warmth of your presence and with the melody of the songs you fashion only for her. Like Zephaniah 3:17. Help her envision how you sing and dance over her with delight.
He would send her flowers every single day, if that was what it took to convince the girl she was worth something in someone’s eyes.
Cradling both hands on a large bloom, she leaned in as close as she could until her nose disappeared inside one of the flowers. Eyes closed, she inhaled long and deep. Deeper. So deep he was sure she’d inhaled pollen into her lungs.
Yes, Lord. Let her inhale Your presence like that.
He’d never ever seen someone so appreciative of a gift.
“They smell so beautiful. They’re gorgeous, and this vase, do I get to keep it?” Her words tumbled out breathless.
He nodded, enjoying the grateful gushing and childlike wonder at what he considered such a small gesture of kindness. But to her, it obviously was enormous.
He laughed because Amelia’s joy looked just like Reece’s when she’d lunged off the bed, going airborne. Not even pausing to consider that he wouldn’t or couldn’t catch her. Or that she could be hurt in the process if things didn’t turn out as planned. The unquestioning trust and pristine faith of a child.
Restore that to Amelia.
The way she ogled the flowers, obviously she didn’t get gifts all that often. If ever.
He aimed to change that. He couldn’t think of any woman who needed that as much as Amelia. Crazy to be thinking along these long-term lines this soon. But he couldn’t help it. An excitement welled up in him. He liked her. And it had nothing to do with sympathy. He saw deeper than her current life circumstances. Determination. Tenacity. He doubted she could even see it in herself. Regardless, he loved the view.
The nurse entered. “Oh, good. Your ride made it, I see.”
Amelia blinked at Ben. “I hadn’t asked him yet.”
He grinned like a goon in a gin bin. “Like I’d protest the company of two very pretty ladies?”
Reece giggled. Amelia’s smile revealed relief.
“Lunch trays came an hour ago. Since I thought you’d be discharged at ten, I didn’t order yours. I can call dietary to deliver two if you need,” the nurse said to Amelia.
The rolling table squeaked as Ben moved it aside to sit on the bed. “No offense, but I saw fish sandwiches on the menu.” His eyes warned Amelia. “They taste like sponges.”
The nurse chuckled. “Unfortunately, he’s right. But we can order you and Reece trays before you go if you like.”
Ben rose. “Nah, they’ll grab lunch with me. But thanks.”
“Okay, then. I’ll get your discharge paperwork.” The nurse slipped out.
“Could we have a picnic, Mommy?” Reece asked.
“That’s up to Mr. Ben,” Amelia said. “He’s driving. But whatever we decide, I’d like to treat us.” She eyed him. “You fly and I buy?”
He smiled. “Sounds like a plan. I’m game for a picnic.” He knew Harker had slipped bills into the Bible Promise Book she’d given Amelia. She’d told Ben to make sure Amelia knew about it. Amelia must have discovered it on her own. He strongly sensed she needed this, to be able to contribute financially.
Amelia shifted in her seat. “I’m curious about something, Ben. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“What’s that?”
“When the doctor was here, you mentioned someone named Bradley. I got the idea he’s a young boy. Dr. Riviera is an oncologist, right? Does Joel’s little boy have cancer?” Sympathy coated her words.
“He had leukemia, but it’s been in remission since a successful bone-marrow transplant.”
“Must have been frightening for Bradley’s parents. I can’t imagine going through that.”
“Actually, Joel and his wife, Amber, adopted Bradley. Amber was Bradley’s teacher. At that time, things didn’t look good for Bradley. He’d been abandoned by his birth mother and neglected by his foster mother to the point it endangered his life. So Amber pursued custody. She and Joel married about the time his adoption was finalized.”
“I don’t understand how a mother could abandon her child. I’m so glad he found another family.”
“Bradley’s as much a gift to Joel and Amber as they are to him. Kid’s an inspiration to everyone he meets. He was so courageous going through what he did. In fact, if courage could cure cancer, that little guy’s fight and faith alone would have eradicated it from the earth.”
“Mommy, what’s cancer?” Reece asked from the corner.
“It’s a terrible disease that makes people very sick.”
“I know what courage is, Mommy.”
“You do?”
“Yep. I found out by watching Charlotte’s Web. Courage is what the little girl who loved Wilbur was made of. And it’s what you’re made of, even though your daddy isn’t very nice to you sometimes. Grandma even said so.”
“She did?” Total shock spread all over Amelia’s face. It wasn’t half the jolt Ben felt, though, when she turned to him and conveyed a look that touched him across the space separating them.
“Mom has never stood up for me. At least not in my presence,” she explained in tones too low for Reece to monitor.
Reece made airplane noises and flew Bearby in circles over her head. “I’m glad Charlotte’s three babies stayed with Wilbur. And I’m glad that little boy Bradley’s okay now, Mommy. And I’m glad you didn’t die in our car crash because I don’t have any idea how to fly and farms are stinky.”
The gamut of emotions Reece’s words provoked made Amelia appear to want to laugh and cry at the same time. Ben resisted the compulsion to reach for her.
Already familiar with the animated version of Charlotte’s Web from watching it a hundred times with Hutton, Ben knew hundreds of spider babies floated through air to the farm after Charlotte couldn’t be with them anymore, but only three babies stayed there with Wilbur the pig.
The nurse reentered, discharged Amelia, then left.
Ben lifted Reece’s booster seat, which he’d brought the first day. “I pulled my car up to the front of the hospital. Feel okay to walk through a store to snag picnic stuff?”
Amelia nodded. “I feel gobs better.” When she held his gaze for a few mesmerizing moments, he knew she meant more than her health.
“You didn’t really think I’d abandon you. Did you?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I wouldn’t say abandon, really. Forget might be a better word.” Her eye twitched once. Twice.
Stopped like a fighter jet caught by arresting wires on an aircraft carrier, he faced her. He stepped one foot inside her personal space, with one foot outside in the circle of normal friendship to help usher that precise point across. “Let’s clear something up right here and now.”
Her eyes flashed apprehension. As if she expected him to initiate a scream fest. To deflect that fear, he raised a gentle hand, wrapping his finger in spirals of lush hair curtaining the eye she tried so hard to hide. In her mind, a flaw. In his, something unique to her that made her all the more special.
She swallowed, but held his gaze.
He twirled her hair between his finger and thumb, longing to lose himself in the feel of it.
Amelia’s eye started twitching again.
He slid his gaze to a now-giggling Reece, then back to slowly roam every facet of Amelia’s face. “I would never abandon you and Reece…
“And never, ever could I forget you.”
Chapter Eight
Amelia had never been so glad to enter a checkout lane. For once, she didn’t experience dread that she’d get to the register and not have
enough money with people looking on.
She faced Ben. “Had I known Glorietta planted two one-hundred dollar bills under the Provision page, I’d have tried to give it back.”
He rolled the cart to the back of the long line. “That’s why she had to be sneaky.”
But thanks to Glorietta’s stealth and kindness, Amelia not only had enough to pay for nonperishable groceries for her and Reece, she could cover today’s picnic lunch.
“It feels good to be able to do for another person.”
“Hey, Ben.”
Amelia turned. A statuesque blonde and three other very beautiful girls eyed her and Ben with curious interest.
“Hey, Brenna.” He nodded to the other girls. “Ladies.”
To Amelia’s surprise, his gaze didn’t linger lewdly on them or wander in a wanton manner like Reece’s dad’s had when they’d been out somewhere and women walked by. In fact, warmth infused Amelia’s back as Ben’s hand settled there, nudging her forward. She hadn’t realized she’d slipped behind him.
Ben smiled tenderly at her, and never moved his arm away. “This is my special friend, Amelia North, and her daughter, Reece.”
Special friend.
She was actually somebody’s special friend. Someone as wonderful as Ben.
What was a special friend? The concept sounded so foreign. Thankfulness consumed her. Even though Ben was probably just saying that to be nice so she didn’t feel awkward, the thoughtful gesture meant more than he could ever know. And how he’d deemed her unforgettable at the hospital. Wow. A guy who actually considered a girl’s feelings. They hadn’t gone extinct.
Brenna and her friends looked from Ben to Amelia. Though they smiled, Amelia sensed an underlying emotion. One she’d interpret as envy did she not know better. After all, she possessed nothing capable of causing another girl to be jealous. Then why did Brenna’s friends’ smiles seem forced?
A guy, wearing a Southern Illinois University sweatshirt and who appeared college age like the girls, sauntered up.
Brenna’s hand lifted in a gesture of introduction. “Cole, this is Ben Dillinger.”
Surprise flooded the student’s face. His mouth dropped open and stayed there. Cole’s eyes oozed more respect toward Ben than Amelia had ever seen in one man’s face for another.
Interesting.
Cole’s hand snaked out, grabbing Ben’s. “Airman Dillinger. I’ve heard so much about you and your team. You’re practically famous. It rocks to finally meet one of you. It’s so stinking cool that you got stationed at Refuge Air Base.” He kept shaking Ben’s hand until Ben slipped it from the overzealous grasp.
Cole patted himself frantically as though bugs skittered over him. Then he swiped off his hat and extended it. “Dude, I mean, sir, can you please, please autograph this for me?”
Autograph? Practically famous?
Amelia tilted her head to study Ben. Who was he, really?
Cole looked starstruck as Ben took the black Sharpie and scribbled his name and something encouraging across the bill, then Jeremiah 29:11. A Bible verse? Now she really studied Ben.
“Awesome! You—your team, you’re American heroes, man, ah, sir.” His feet did a nifty little shuffle as he clutched the hat in his hands. “Wait until I tell my friends! They are sooo gonna hate me.” He looked close to combusting with excitement.
Ben shook his head and laughed. “If you say so.”
“Thanks, man. Thanks a lot for this! My buddies aren’t gonna believe it. I wish I had a camera to prove it. Dude, you have no idea how much me and my friends look up to you Ops guys, man—er—sir. Especially those of us looking to go in. We watch the PJ pipeline recruiting disc every time we’re at the DZ. I’d give anything to be a cone.”
Ben perked up at that. “No need for a camera. Show up at Refuge Drop Zone the second Saturday next month. Ask for me. Unless we get tasked somewhere, we’ll all be there. Bring the guys. Let’s hang for a few hours. Deal, dude?” He grinned.
Cole’s response was to squeal like a prepubescent kid.
“Pick your chin off the floor,” Brenna told Cole, whose knees had nearly hit the tiles at Ben’s invitation.
She dragged Cole away, eyeing them as she went. “Thanks, Ben. See you at the DZ. Nice to meet you, Reece. Hope to get to know you better, Amelia. I’ve never seen Ben smile so much. You must be a very special friend.” She winked.
Similar parting words rippled through Brenna’s friends as they departed, waving. Her heart pinched because they seemed the sort of popular girls who’d always overlooked or made fun of her. Or wouldn’t associate with Amelia because they obviously didn’t run in the same circles. But Brenna’s words had seemed sincere.
Heat flushed Amelia’s face as the group exited the store. She knew they talked about her because they kept looking back over their shoulders and murmuring. Yet their faces smiled.
Ben bumped her shoulder. “They’re not maliciously whispering.”
“I’ve been the victim of enough high school pranks to know you’re right.” But those were the kind of whispers suggesting they were desperate to figure out what was going on between her and Ben and dying to know who she was. Of course, they wouldn’t have batted an eye at her had she not been in Ben’s company.
Regardless, for once, Amelia felt like she could hold her head higher. Someone like Ben wasn’t ashamed to be seen with someone like her. The longing to live in a small place like Refuge, where everyone seemed intent to help someone in need and show kindness to strangers, snuck up on her from nowhere.
Standing in the long checkout line, Amelia studied Ben. He avoided her direct gaze.
Amelia nudged his elbow with hers. “American hero?”
He shrugged, and unless the fluorescent lights played tricks on her eyes, his ears turned pink. “They’re just kids. They don’t know any better.”
“Ri-ight. Just who and what are you, Ben Dillinger? What are you not telling me?”
The sound of his velvet chuckle filled her ears with contentment. She loved the sound of his voice.
A little too much for her own comfort.
Mounting intrigue won out over her discomfort. An Ops guy? And what on earth was a cone? Wasn’t an airman someone in the Air Force? That would make sense. Ben certainly possessed a military bearing, now that she thought about it. And the guy had mentioned Refuge Air Base, though she hadn’t seen it on the map. It could be one of those more secretive, unmapped military bases. She grew more intrigued with Ben by the second.
Amelia moved up in the line, now two away from being checked out. “Are you a fighter pilot?”
“Not hardly. With all due respect, I like to jump out of planes. Not fly them. Air combat takes a special breed. I love the sky, don’t get me wrong. But I’d rather be attached to a parachute any day than strapped behind F-18 or F-22 controls.”
That made it sound as though he’d tried it before.
Next up to check out, Amelia pulled out her wallet and thumbed through bills. Ben unloaded the cart’s contents onto the rolling counter.
So he was some sort of military parachutist with medical training. “I’ve heard of F-15s and F-18s. What’s an F-22?”
“Raptor. Most incredible stealth fighter on earth, in my opinion.”
The clerk rang up the items and announced the total. For once, anxiety didn’t clinch her stomach. Amelia handed over two large bills. “May I have change for the second one?”
“Five twenties be okay?”
“Great.” Amelia handed Reece a few dollars and change. “Here’s some spending money for you.”
Reece pushed bills through the slot of a collection box for a children’s cancer hospital, keeping only a quarter for herself.
Amelia’s heart melted. “That was nice, sweetie.”
“I watched about St. Jude’s on the TV with Grandma once. They help kids with cancer and I just want to make sure Bradley has everything he needs.”
Amelia hugged Reece.
Gathering sa
cks containing her purchases, Ben smiled down at them with a tender expression that made her mind go slow and her heart go fast. “You’ve done good with her, Amelia.”
Again his soothing voice rubbed against her like a soft sweater.
“Reece, one of these days we’ll introduce you to Bradley,” he said.
Her eyes lit up. “Really? Is cancer catching, though?”
He dug out his car keys. “Nope. It’s not contagious.”
Amelia sneaked a peek at Ben. Him suggesting Reece could meet Bradley hinted at seeing them in the future. She’d hoped he’d want to keep in touch but no way was she gonna make the first move. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t trust nice guys. She majorly didn’t trust her instincts.
Her error in judgment once had nearly cost Reece her life and Amelia the chance of raising her. Hopefully that had sharpened her senses about people.
Sure she struggled now. But things wouldn’t always be so. To trust a man again might prove too risky to her and especially Reece, who could grow attached. Better to keep safe boundaries.
Besides that, she never wanted to be in the position again of having to depend on other people for survival. She needed to continue to be independent. She vowed never to depend on a guy or anyone else, ever again. She could only count on herself.
Picket-fence families were fruitless fairy tales, and she couldn’t afford to entertain the vanity. Maybe Reece would be more fortunate in the glass-slipper department.
In the parking lot, Ben deposited their bags near his car then scooped tiara-topped Reece up on his shoulders and galloped all over the pavement, making outlandish horse noises with his mouth. Amelia ran to keep up, laughing so much that her stomach ached, her legs grew weak with the sprint and her face hurt from all the laughing.
“You play just like a kid, Ben.” You’ll make a great dad someday. Tears from nowhere stung her eyes. For Reece not having a dad that cared about her. And for herself and the loss of a relationship with her own dad. She busied herself with buckling Reece in while Ben opened the trunk to stick the grocery bags in there. His groan pulled her up short, and she hit her head on the car door molding backing out of the car.
