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Chapter Four

What had he done? As Mark allowed the social worker to usher him and Shannon into the hall, he braced his hand on the door frame to steady his head. With six words that had surprised him as much as they had everyone else, he’d done a cannonball dive into a situation that should have been wrapped in crime-scene tape or marked with a sign that said Keep Out. Still, the more he considered his knee-jerk suggestion, the more it seemed like a perfect solution for everyone. Him included.

“What was that all about?” Miss Lafferty said after she closed the door, shutting the interview room off from the squad room. She carried the thick, brown file under her arm like a football.

“Yeah. What were you thinking, saying something like that?” Shannon’s eyes were almost as wide as they’d been earlier when Blake had shown up on her doorstep.

“Now, hear me out.” But Mark didn’t rush to offer a profound explanation. He was figuring that out as he went. Because it was impossible to focus on anything with Shannon looking at him like that, he averted his gaze and spoke directly to the state worker.

“Well...I’m a state trooper.” He swallowed. Now, that was stating the obvious. His gaze slid without his permission toward Shannon, who was shuffling her feet, but he redirected his attention to Miss Lafferty.

“Anyway, I’ve already been through an extensive background check. I’ve been fingerprinted, too. An experienced professional like you, Miss Lafferty? You could get someone like me certified as an emergency placement foster parent with both hands tied behind your back.”

The woman shook her head, his flattery failing to sway her. Shannon was probably doing the same thing behind him, but he wouldn’t allow himself to check. He pressed on, determined to convince them both. He was surprised by how important it had become to him to win the argument.

“Divorced. No dependents. I live alone. I couldn’t have less complications for doing something like this.”

“Except not having certification,” Miss Lafferty pointed out.

“But you can make it happen. You know you can.”

Again, she shook her head. “I’m not saying I can’t get it approved, Trooper Shoffner. But I have to know. Why do you want to do this?”

Good question. Should he tell her that he was drawn to Blake, who reminded him so much of his former self, from the insolent slouch to that practiced smirk? Or he could admit that by becoming the boy’s temporary guardian he could prove once and for all that he’d left his own delinquent past behind. Both excuses were valid, and neither was as bad as confessing that he might have volunteered, at least in part, to play the hero for Blake’s desperate mother. That he couldn’t bear to admit.

“Haven’t the system and the adults in this kid’s life failed him enough already?” So he’d sidestepped the question altogether. That he’d also deflected the attention back to Shannon only confirmed what a coward he was.

This time he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her. She stiffened at his jab, but, to her credit, she continued to look right at him. She didn’t even point out that he’d dodged the question better than a politician would on the campaign trail.

“Yes, the boy has had a tough time of it,” Miss Lafferty said. “Although I must tell you that some of his foster parents have been good ones.”

“Some? But not all?” Shannon searched the other woman’s face, as if hoping for assurances that they all knew wouldn’t come.

“Most. Not all.”

Mark braced his hand on the doorjamb again, this time to hold his frustration in check. The kid deserved better than that. All kids deserved better.

“Let’s face it. Blake has been bounced around the system for years. He’s the real victim in this mess. I don’t know about you, but I can’t turn my back on him.”

“No one is suggesting that we do that,” Miss Lafferty said.

“Sorry. That wasn’t fair.” Mark shook his head, taking hold of his emotions. “What I mean is if we can prevent the system from failing the boy again, then I think we should try. Even if it’s only for a while.”

Shannon looked back and forth between the police officer and the state worker, her thoughts colliding in a barrage of pipe dreams and practicality, wishes and reality. She still couldn’t get over that Trooper Shoffner had offered to give Blake a home. Whether it was a good idea or not, she wasn’t sure. This was the same man who’d vacillated between looking at her like a defendant at sentencing and comforting her with words like You couldn’t have known. Between announcing that she’d failed Blake and offering him a home when she couldn’t.

He had offered, though, which was more than most people would have done. Part of her resented his intrusion into their lives. But it was the other part that unnerved her. The one that was tempted to go beyond just being grateful that he’d offered. The one that was tempted to see him as her personal knight in state police blue or something. She couldn’t be thinking something like that. She’d learned the hard way never to put her trust in a guy, no matter how desperate she was.

“You don’t have a lot of options,” Mark said, breaking the silence. “I know Blake doesn’t.”

Shannon swallowed. She couldn’t allow this to be about her. It had to be about whatever was best for Blake. The police officer realized it, and he’d known nothing about her son two hours ago. As the person who’d been missing Blake all of his life, how could she have failed to recognize it?

“Thank you,” she managed. She didn’t care how sour and frightening those words tasted in her mouth. She would do whatever was necessary to help her son.

Miss Lafferty stared at the file in her hands for several seconds and then, as if she’d come to a decision, she looked up and nodded. “So tell me about the experience you’ve had working with troubled youth, Trooper Shoffner.”

“None.”

She had her pen poised to write, but she stopped and studied him. “Other children, then? With those of which ages have you had the most experience?”

“Look. This will go faster if I tell you that I haven’t worked with children. But I can figure it out.”

“None?” Shannon couldn’t keep the squeak out of her voice. “Ever?” Before, she’d been annoyed by his meddling, and now she was worried that he wouldn’t get the chance.

Miss Lafferty lifted a brow. “You’ve got to be—”

“I may not have experience working with kids,” Mark said to interrupt her, “but I can relate to the boy in that room better than either of you can.”

The state social worker lifted her chin and stared at him. “How is that?”

Mark bent his head, blowing out a breath. “I was just like him.”

“What do you mean?” Miss Lafferty asked. “A foster kid? An angry teen with a juvenile record?”

“A runaway?” Shannon couldn’t help adding.

“All of the above...except for the foster kid part.” At their questioning gazes, Mark held his hands wide. “Every family needs a black sheep. I was ours.”

Although he chuckled as he said it, the shadow that passed over his face gave Shannon a glimpse at the pain behind his words. Something tightened inside her belly. She was painfully aware of how a person’s past could follow him, but she couldn’t let herself wonder how the trooper’s history played upon his present. She had enough trouble in her own life without prying into his.

“Still, I worry that your lack of experience with troubled teens would make this too hard on you,” Miss Lafferty said.

“I have that.”

Only when the other adults turned to her did Shannon realize she’d said those words aloud.

“Well, it’s true. I have plenty of experience with troubled teens. I could help him out. Offer some tips.”

But Mark was already shaking his head. “Thanks. But I can handle it.”

“Really. I can help. I have about twelve girls at Hope Haven at any given time.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

She crossed her arms. “I doubt that.”

His jaw tightened, and he stared at her until she looked away. “You’ve known Blake for two hours, and now you’re an expert on him?”

“I never said that. I only said I know about troubled kids.” Shannon pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying more, but this time she couldn’t stop the words from coming. “You can judge me all you want. Even without the whole story. But know this. I have loved my son every minute of every hour of his life, whether he was with me or not.” Though her eyes burned, she refused to cry again. “I had planned to find him when he turned eighteen. Whether he realizes it or not, he needs me.”

“You’re right about that.”

At the intrusion of Miss Lafferty’s voice, Shannon regretted that she’d lashed out, but she still couldn’t help wondering how the officer would have answered if given a chance. Why did she care? Why had she allowed him to get under her skin?

“Blake’s going to need you both.” Miss Lafferty waved away their arguments. “Neither of you can handle this alone. But together... Well, it just might work.”

Shannon met Mark’s wary gaze with her own cautious one, worrying now that working with him would be a bad idea.

“You.” The state worker pointed at Shannon. “Whatever you were planning to do when you met him in four years no longer matters. Blake is here now, although as yet we haven’t proved he’s your son. Even after that, it’s going to be a long, tough road before you can reestablish a legal connection to him. You’ll need a lot of help—including mine—to make that happen.”

Shannon drew her brows together in confusion, but Miss Lafferty must have been satisfied she’d made her point because she dismissed her.

“And you, Trooper. You’ve offered to take in this boy, but you have zero experience working with kids like him, except for yourself. That doesn’t really count. I can help you receive emergency certification, if you pass the home visit, but you’ll need additional help while you’re catching up with the training hours.” She indicated Shannon with a wave of her arm. “She knows how to handle kids like Blake, and she’s willing to share some of the lessons she’s learned with you.”

When he shook his head, Miss Lafferty nodded hers.

“I realize you didn’t have time to really think about this before you volunteered, but did you consider that your job won’t allow you to be home 24/7, though Blake needs regular supervision?” She crossed her arms. “Didn’t think so.”

Mark opened his mouth as if to respond, but then he closed it again.

“In addition to welcoming her suggestions, I recommend that you hire Miss Lyndon to stay with Blake when you’re working and he’s out of school.”

Shannon held her breath as the possibility dangled there before her, almost within reach. A regular schedule with Blake. Time to love him. Time to explain. She was so caught up in the prospect that she didn’t realize at first that the room had become quiet. The others were watching her, waiting.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I wanted to know if your work schedule is flexible enough for you to help Trooper Shoffner out.”

“Oh. Sure. I’ll just switch shifts with Katie, the other social worker.” She shot a glance at Mark, but he pointedly looked away from her. “I won’t take any pay for it, though.”

“Then it’s settled,” Miss Lafferty said with a nod.

Mark said nothing. He stood with his legs in a wide stance and his arms crossed, an intimidating posture that probably had criminals laying their weapons at his feet.

Miss Lafferty pursed her lips. “Bottom line. Either you agree to work together for Blake’s sake, or I will be forced to recommend placing him at the children’s center.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Fine by me.”

Shannon could only nod. Was there really a chance that all of this could work out?

“Great. Trooper Shoffner, you’ll provide a temporary home for Blake until Miss Lyndon’s maternity can be established and legal matters are settled. And Miss Lyndon, you’ll provide after-school supervision and parenting support.” She held her hands wide and smiled as if she’d just solved all the world’s problems. “That will work out fine...at least until a more permanent placement is located.”

Shannon’s breath caught. Of course it was only temporary. She knew that. So why did this interim plan seem so incredibly brief now?

But Trooper Shoffner and Miss Lafferty had moved past the subject, as if it wasn’t worth even a pause. Mark had made some suggestion about Blake doing community service with him before his juvenile court date to encourage the judge’s leniency, and the state worker agreed it was a good idea.

“We should do it right on Hope Haven’s grounds.” Mark’s gaze darted to Shannon. “The place looks like it could use some work. Cracked gutters. Ripped screens. Broken concrete.”

Shannon’s cheeks burned. “Well, money’s tight right now. Nonprofits, you know. There’s not even room in the budget for repair supplies. I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I’ll get donations for that,” Mark said, as if fund-raising wasn’t a constant challenge for charitable organizations.

With some of the details in place, they returned to the interview room, where Blake slouched low as though it didn’t matter to him what had happened outside that door. And what was about to happen with his life. Shannon didn’t buy his indifference any more than the others should have accepted her own mask of certainty. Now shell-shocked, that was exactly what she was.

As if providing a home for Blake wasn’t enough, Trooper Shoffner had volunteered not only to do repairs on the Hope Haven buildings that were falling down around them but also to find a way to pay for improvements.

Still, she couldn’t worry now about her lingering doubts over all the plans they’d made, or even the recurring image of Mark as that knight in the blue squad car with its red spinning light. None of that was important. Not now that Shannon and a ticking clock had been drafted to opposing teams. Mounting a legal custody challenge and building a solid mother-son relationship with a child who wanted nothing to do with her would be challenging enough without adding the pressure of a looming deadline. She had no choice, though, but to tackle both of those monumental tasks before Blake could be placed in another foster home. Possibly somewhere far away.

Seconds ticked on a loudspeaker in her ears. This tiny window of time might be her only opportunity to get to know Blake, to earn his forgiveness. Would he give her the chance? He had to. And she had to make this right with him, had to show him that no matter how wrong her decisions had been, she’d made them out of love. She had to do it...before time ran out.

* * *

“So why’d you do it?”

At Blake’s question, Mark looked up from the kitchen sink where he’d just put the pans in the sudsy water. He didn’t look back at him, but he didn’t pretend to miss the boy’s meaning, either. This was the most civil comment Blake had made all night. The twelve hours of foster parent training the private agency would still require Mark to take would be nothing compared to these three hours of introduction by fire.

Mark took his time drying his hands on a towel. “It was the right thing to do.”

“For me, you or my mother?”

He swallowed, and this time he glanced over his shoulder at the boy. Leaning against the kitchen doorway, his arms and ankles crossed, Blake stared right at him. What did the kid know? Had he noticed that Mark hadn’t been able to resist looking at Shannon’s smooth-looking skin, at her full, kissable lips? Had she noticed?

“For everyone,” he somehow managed.

He hoped the finality in his words would put an end to that line of questioning. He tried not to dwell on the way Blake had stressed the word mother, nor on how succinctly he’d encapsulated the situation. And Mark’s uncertainties. Out of the mouths of surly teens....

“Nobody asked me what I wanted.”

“Guess not.”

Mark wasn’t about to ask him now, either. Instead, he dunked his hands in the soapy water and tackled the pan with pasta noodles stuck to the bottom. All night Blake had made it clear that Mark’s three-bedroom rental home was the last place he wanted to be. He’d complained about everything from their dinner of slightly charred hamburgers and boxed macaroni to the bare walls and the basic bed and dresser in the guest room. And if Mark had ever been under the mistaken impression that Blake thought the plan to work at Hope Haven tomorrow was a good idea, then the kid had set him straight about that.

Okay, Blake had a point about the dinner. It hadn’t been Mark’s most shining culinary moment. But he’d been wrong to call the freshly painted two-story a dump. At least it had the bedroom and bathroom locks required for the foster care home visit.

Shutting off the water, Mark glanced over his shoulder again, but Blake was gone, so the opportunity had passed. He probably should have laid down some rules such as that the boy would help him clean up after meals. He should have done many things. Too bad for him he didn’t know what they were.

What had he been thinking, volunteering to become a foster parent? And, worse yet, offering to do work at Hope Haven. He was in so far over his head that his hands wouldn’t break the surface if he held them straight up and started jumping up and down. Just because seeing Blake was like looking at his fourteen-year-old self in the mirror, it didn’t mean that at thirty-three he had any idea what to do with the kid.

The disappointment-filled voices of his parents, of his brothers, of his ex-wife, Kim, even, the same ones that had been whispering in the background all day as he’d arranged details for Blake’s arrival, boomed in his ears now. The wheelchair-bound image of Chris Lawson stared back at him, a permanent reminder of the mistakes that Mark couldn’t take back. If he’d thought that working with one troubled teenager would be enough to prove that he was no longer the guy in that accident, then he’d never considered what would happen if his charity project was a major failure. And right now it looked as if that was exactly what it would be.

When the floor creaked behind him, Mark blinked away the painful memories and turned to find Blake standing there with a stack of plates, cups and silverware in his hands. Mark accepted the stack with a nod of thanks, and then as he returned to the sink, the boy spoke from behind him.

“But you didn’t have to do it.”

“Guess not,” he said again, though this time he had to forcibly keep his voice calm.

He could just imagine Blake staring at his back, trying to understand the angle he was playing with his offer of help. At least the boy, who was more accustomed to people failing to meet their obligations than those volunteering out of true charity, wouldn’t be surprised by Mark’s self-serving purpose. That only made Mark feel guiltier over Blake’s comment, which was the closest thing the boy would give to a thank-you. His chest squeezed with something unfamiliar and a little scary. He was becoming attached, which might have been his biggest mistake of all.

Once the last dish was in the dishwasher, he started in the direction that Blake had taken. He found him in the living room, watching television. Blake patted the spot next to him on the navy corduroy sofa and then gestured toward the brown-and-orange-plaid recliner near the window.

“Your ex must have really taken you to the cleaners.”

His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to remain calm. The boy was baiting him, maybe to step back from the words he’d said before. No matter how much Mark wanted to declare that subject off-limits, he wouldn’t give the kid the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to him.

“Yeah, we get a raw deal in life sometimes,” he said instead. “But I guess you already know about that.”

Blake shrugged, sank back into the sofa that Mark had intended to be only a temporary furnishing and started flipping through the channels.

Finally a Mother

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