Ready-Made Family. Cheryl Wyatt
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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