prefers to work with us rather than an agency closer to them, we don’t turn them away. The home has to be near enough for us to visit easily, though.”
He nodded. She talked about some of the questions people had asked tonight, and about the fears she thought kept people from being willing to take in children who might—and often did—have problems.
She switched gears when she finished her burger. “Are you going to tell me how you didn’t know you had a brother?”
Reid grunted, no closer to having made a decision about how much to tell her. “I haven’t stayed in touch with my father. Didn’t know he’d remarried. A few months ago, I ran a check on him. Turns out he’s divorced, but they had another kid who stayed with him rather than going with the mother. Caleb. He’s...a mess.”
Anna’s big gray eyes were compassionate. “In what way?”
“Our father was abusive.” He paused, frowning. “Is.”
“I...see.”
Damn it, there she went again. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d said over coffee that scared the shit out of him? The trouble was, she meant it. She saw more than he’d said. And this time he’d set himself up for it.
He reached for a French fry, attempting to look more casual than he felt. “I’m...trying to build a relationship with Caleb. He doesn’t want to trust me.”
“Maybe he can’t.”
“Can’t?” He stared at her, inexplicably angry. “What are you suggesting? That he’s broken and unfixable?”
Like me? The quick thought was unwelcome. If he believed himself to be permanently damaged...maybe Caleb was, too. Maybe he’d found him too late. It was disconcerting to realize how pissed he was at the very idea.
But Anna was frowning repressively at him. “Of course not. I’d never suggest anything of the kind. I’ve seen too many children from horrific homes blossom when they feel safe and loved.”
Damn. She sounded like Paula.
“I hardly know him,” he said. “Love... That’s asking a lot.”
“Can you bring him to live with you?”
“I don’t see that as an option.”
“Why not?” she asked.
He should have known she wouldn’t let it go that easily.
“Aside from the fact I have a job that demands a whole hell of a lot more than forty hours a week?”
“How old is Caleb?”
“Fifteen,” he said reluctantly.
“Unless you live way out of town, he could get himself home from after-school activities, to friends’ houses. He could take on responsibility for putting dinner on the table some nights. He doesn’t need the same time commitment from you that a younger child would.”
His appetite had deserted him. “His father won’t let him go without an ugly court battle.”
“So you’re just going to leave him?” Her spine had straightened and her eyes held the light of battle. Despite the topic and the fact she was judging him, Reid was disconcerted to find his body responding to the fire in her. Apparently, he was turned on by a woman who could take to task not only a crusty desk sergeant, but also a stone-faced police captain.
At least she hadn’t commented on what he’d said—his father. No one he wanted to claim.
“That’s not entirely my decision,” he pointed out. “What I’d like to understand is why Caleb is trying to reject me, too.”
He basked in the way her face softened.
“When you were his age, would trust have come easily to you?” she asked.
He gave a short, harsh laugh. “No.” He’d been with the Hales for a year or more before he felt anything close to that for them. “You’re saying I need to prove myself to Caleb.”
“I’m saying that he’s testing you. He’s pushing you away to see if you’ll go.” She leaned forward a little, as if to underline the urgency of what she was saying. She exuded such intensity, he couldn’t have looked away from her if someone wearing a ski mask had walked in with a gun and told the cashier to stick ’em up. “What you have to do is refuse to go,” she said. “He needs to see you digging in for him. By fighting for custody of him, if necessary, or only by giving him an ear and a refuge.”
An ear and a refuge. Wasn’t that what he’d been trying to offer? He couldn’t be Caleb’s home, although he thought he’d provided an even better one. He was giving everything he could. Pushing himself into places he’d never gone.
“He’s testing me,” he said slowly.
“Without having met him, I can’t say for sure, but that’s my guess.”
“It fits,” he admitted. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
There was more, of course; Caleb had wanted his big brother to wade in with fists flying to rescue him. Eventually, he’d see that this way was better. Safer.
A thought crept into Reid’s head, a follow-up to things he’d been brooding about anyway. Okay, it was possible he had, without realizing it, come to love Paula and Roger, but...would they actually love Caleb? Did they love all the kids they took in? Some of them? None? Certainly, back then Reid hadn’t thought of the word in association with them. His mother was the only person he’d ever been sure loved him—or known he loved, despite the limitations on her love.
Whatever Paula and Roger gave was enough for me.
He was stunned by the voice that whispered, Was it?
No, that was ridiculous. Sure, what kid wouldn’t rather have a normal family? Mom, Dad, sister, brother, cat and dog. The cynic in him thought, Fresh-baked cookies when I came in the door from school, gentle lectures when my grades dropped, a parent in the stands at every football and basketball game. A father who talked openly to me and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder while he listened when I told him my worries. A warm-hearted TV-sitcom childhood. If they existed, he hadn’t seen one up close and personal. Some of his friends seemed to have it good, but who knew what went on behind closed doors? Shame had kept him from telling any of those friends his father beat the shit out of him on a regular basis. He’d never said, My father killed my mother and got away with it. So they might have been keeping quiet for the same reason. Once he became a cop, stable, loving families weren’t the ones he saw.
But that’s what I wanted.
That’s what Caleb wants.
A sound escaped him, one even he didn’t know how to label. Glimpsing Anna’s startled expression, he snapped his guard back into place. She’d seen too much already. He knew better than to lay himself out naked like this.
“That helps,” he said, sounding easy, but for a residual roughness in his voice. “Thank you.”
She studied
