Читать книгу Ready-Made Family - Cheryl Wyatt - Страница 11

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.”