Читать книгу Ready-Made Family - Cheryl Wyatt - Страница 13

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 Harker, but you can call me Glorietta. May I call you Amelia?”

Amelia stared at the hand, then the business logo on Harker’s shirt and blinked rapidly. “You’re the one from DCFS.”

Retrieving her hand, Miss Harker nodded and sat on the side of Amelia’s bed opposite of where Reece snuggled in a recliner asleep. “You remember me from before? I wondered, because you were pretty out of it that first day.”

She eyed Harker as if undecided whether the woman was friend or foe. “I remember bits and pieces.” She nailed Harker’s gaze head on. “You gonna try to take my baby away?”

Harker’s hand settled on Amelia’s. “I lost a baby to a forced adoption at age fifteen that has haunted me just as long. Now, you tell me, do you think I hold even a remote interest in ripping a child from a capable mother’s arms?”

A tense silence stretched between them. Amelia didn’t speak.

“I am interested, however, in helping you get on your feet. I am a social worker of sorts. I have access to resources you may not be able to tap into on your own. That is my interest.”

“That’s it? No other motivation?”

“That’s it. No other motivation other than to help you. So you can better care for Reece and have a more stable future for the both of you. Your parents certainly don’t seem to have an interest in helping at the moment.” A look Ben interpreted as annoyance drew Harker’s sculpted eyebrows down.