The Bad Son. Linda Warren
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“The hospital has to follow procedure or we could be liable if something happened to the baby.” Mike made his position clear. “If you want the baby, I suggest you hire a lawyer and make it legal. I’m sure CPS will be willing to work with you and I’d be happy to vouch for your character.” His cell rang. “Excuse me.” As he took the call, Harriet pulled her to the side.
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. If you really want to keep the baby, call a lawyer. But it’s the weekend and you won’t be able to hire one until Monday.”
“Thanks, Harriet. I’m aware of the rules, but this is my niece and I don’t want her to go to strangers. I can take care of her.”
“Well, the baby’s test results haven’t come back yet so you probably have until Monday before they move Zoë.”
Macy walked out into the hall feeling numb. How could Delia do this? What was she thinking? This was typical of her sister, though. She always ran when things got rough, but she just had a baby and needed rest and care. Where was she? Delia, what have you done? Please call me. I’ll help you. She turned her thoughts to a more pressing matter—finding a way to keep Zoë.
She knew a lawyer—a good one. Calling Beau was out of the question, though. She’d hurt him enough. She couldn’t just pick up the phone and call as if nothing had happened between them. She’d find another lawyer.
Walking to the large picture window of the nursery, she watched Zoë, her little chest moving up and down. If she did have a heart problem, she would need someone to love and care for her, to give her their undivided attention. In foster homes, there were usually several children and special attention wouldn’t be a priority. Zoë moved her tiny hand and Macy’s heart contracted. She couldn’t allow her to go to strangers. In that instant, she knew she’d do anything to keep her.
Even call Beau.
BEAU CAME OUT of the sporting goods store with the best baseball glove he could buy. He’d even bought a new ball, the kind used in Little League. Now he’d drive out to the farm and surprise Jake and his family. That would help him to feel better and to get another perspective on his decision.
As he climbed into his car, his cell rang. Macy. Why was she calling him? He started to ignore it, but he wasn’t sixteen. He was an adult and could handle talking to her.
“Hello.”
“Beau, I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help.”
He inhaled deeply. “What is it, Macy?”
“Delia has left the hospital during the night without the baby. CPS has been called and they’re on the way. I need a lawyer to gain temporary custody of Zoë. Please help me.”
“I’m on the way.” Even though he should have hesitated, he didn’t.
Delia was gone. That was sooner than Beau had expected. She’d definitely had a plan when she came to Macy. Macy would love that baby with everything in her. But what was going to happen when Delia wanted the baby back?
He clicked off thinking that some things never change. He’d make sure Macy had custody of Zoë. Macy’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it and still he was there for her. And probably always would be. That’s what real love was all about. Why couldn’t Macy see that?
He knew her well enough to know that she was hiding something—something about her marriage. How did he get her to talk to him? Poking out a number, he realized he was already breaking rule number one. But not thinking or worrying about Macy wasn’t going to be an option. Maybe the next rule should be to admit that and go from there.
Liz answered her phone.
“Morning, Liz. I need you in the office in about an hour.”
“Beau McCain, it’s Saturday and I was planning on going to a movie.”
“Sorry, Liz. It’s important. I could do it myself, but you know how you hate me messing with your filing system.”
She sighed. “I’ll be there.”
Beau made his way into the hospital and found Macy pacing in front of the nursery. Her hair was loose and disheveled, as if she’d been running her hands through it. Delia had just dealt her another blow. Macy’s arms were folded around her waist as if to ward off the pain.
His gut twisted at the sight and he walked closer to her.
“Beau,” she said in a breathless tone. “Thank you for coming.”
Before he could respond, a voice said from behind him, “Beau McCain, are you working on a Saturday?”
He turned toward the voice. “Morning, Joanne. Seems you’re working, too.”
“I’d introduce you, but evidently you know each other,” Macy said.
“Oh, yes. Beau and I have worked a lot of cases,” Joanne replied. “So you’re Ms. Randall’s attorney?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “You know the rules as well as I do. Once a baby is abandoned, she becomes a ward of the state and put into foster care until a stable home can be found.”
“You also know that there are always extenuating circumstances. Macy Randall is the baby’s aunt and wants to care for her. I’ll have the papers in your hands by the end of the day, appointing Ms. Randall the child’s legal guardian.”
“Not only handsome, but a miracle worker, too?”
Beau grinned at the harmless flirting. He’d known Joanne a long time. They understood each other and they both worked for the good of the child. “Face it, Joanne. This baby is better off with Ms. Randall.”
“The sister did leave a note to that effect.” She shifted the pile of papers in her arms to show him the note. “But I need more than a note. I need an order signed by a judge.”
“You’ll have it.”
“The baby has health problems and I’ll have to have something sooner than this afternoon.”
“That’s almost impossible.”
She shrugged. “My job is to look after the welfare of the baby. Sorry, Beau.”
Beau looked into Macy’s worried eyes and he knew he had to pull out all the stops. “May I have a copy of the note?”
“Give me a minute.” Joanne shifted the papers again and walked into an office.
“You think you can get something done today?” Macy asked, her voice anxious.
“I’ll try, but Zoë’s not going anywhere for a few days. That’ll give me plenty of time. It’ll just be a lot more paperwork and I’d rather get it done now.”
“Me, too.” Macy glanced toward Zoë.
Joanne came back and handed him a copy. “You have two hours. That’s all I can give you.”
Beau strolled away with the note in his hand. He needed a miracle. In his truck, he called Liz.
“See if you can locate Judge Brampton. I’m on the way to the office.” Judge Roland Brampton was known for his fairness and being a diligent advocate for children’s rights. If Beau had a chance of getting the guardianship paperwork done today, it would be with Roland.
“He’s going to love being bothered on a Saturday.”
“Just do it, Liz.”
As he arrived at his outer office, Liz was on the phone. In a minute she followed him into his office.
“The judge’s wife said he’s playing golf this morning.” She laid a piece of paper on his desk. “That’s his cell if you have nerve enough to call him.”
“Did his wife give you his cell number?”
“Of course not.” She lifted