deposited his shopping bags in the trunk and locked it as Miss Harker pulled up. Reece scuttled closer to him and eyed Harker with deadly intent. Ben buckled in the booster, Reece, then Bearby, even though he felt silly. He picked up Reece’s coloring pages as Miss Harker drove them around to follow the ambulance. Chatter would smooth things over.
“You draw these?” He spread pages across the seat.
“All except one.” Reece pulled it from the bottom. A caricature drawing of Bearby holding Reece, both clad in the outfits they wore today.
Wow. “Where’d you have this done?” Outstanding artist.
“Mommy drew it. She draws all the time when she has paper. Isn’t she good?” Reece’s face lit.
“Real good. The best I’ve seen.” He pulled up another paper. This one’s tone seemed different than the rest, drawn in bright pastels. This drawing had a black face with a red frown and huge gray tears. “What’s this one about?”
“For when I felt sad about being a mistake and I didn’t have Bearby to love me.” She grew quiet and solemn.
“You’re not a mistake, princess. You’re a child of God and a treasure to Him.” Wanting to push back whatever dark cloud loomed, Ben slid the page under the seat and held up the caricature. “This really looks like cartoons of you and Bearby.”
“Speaking of cartoons, what’s your favorite?” Miss Harker asked from the driver’s seat, probably to distract her and build rapport. The channel of conversation switched to cartoons, and Ben settled back to listen. And pray. While they talked, questions popped through his mind like automatic weapon fire.
What kind of person would ignore this beautiful gift from God and make her think she was a mistake? Didn’t they know how many couples want children and can’t have them?
Ben thought of his team leader, Joel Montgomery, in the process of adopting another child because of his wife Amber’s infertility. And Ben’s parents, who’d tried for years to have another child after him before conceiving his brother. Though Hutton had MDS, Ben’s parents cherished him. Something Ben hadn’t done until recently.
He’d always been embarrassed about his brother being different before. Now, he was ultraprotective of him, and he wanted to bring Hutton to Refuge so his parents could realize their dream of a year of world travel.
How could he have treated his brother like a sore thumb growing up?
Who in Reece’s life would do something like that?
Ben stared through the ambulance windows, where IV fluids dripped through tubes he knew were attached to both of her emaciated arms. What kind of mom was Amelia North?
From the signs he’d noticed, a good one. Something had caused them to leave in a hurry. But what had led to her poor state of health today? Ben didn’t know. For the struggling single mother’s and little girl’s sakes, he aimed to find out.
He didn’t want any child to go through the hurt he’d put his brother through. Hurt he didn’t know if Hutton had ever fully recovered from. He still didn’t trust Ben fully, which was why Ben’s insides twisted that he couldn’t be at the airport for Hutton as he’d promised.
He prayed Joel would find Hutton before he wandered off somewhere in a state of confusion and panic. A personal code of duties wouldn’t let him leave Reece until he made sure she was okay. Her mother’s problems were life-threatening, sure, but hopefully only temporarily so.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Ben helped Reece out and handed her Bearby. “The police officer obtained your grandparents’ phone number and will notify them about your mom.”
Nothing could have prepared him for the horror striking Reece’s face. “Oh, no! You didn’t call them! They’ll hate Mommy and for sure think she’s bad now. If they take me, Mommy’ll hate you for callin’ the cops! Why did you? Grandpa and Grandma won’t help her. They’ll just yell and take me from her like they said!” Terror oozed from sodden eyes.
Why would they want to take Reece from her mother? Was she unfit? Or did the grandparents have issues not conducive to child rearing? What if they were cruel, and Ben telling Officer Stallings about them would cost Amelia custody?
Ben couldn’t have felt worse if a bullet whizzed through his ribs. Tumultuous questions blew through him like three hundred MPH winds—threatening to bow him sideways.
Questions that demanded answers.
For Reece’s sake, he would not rest or relent until he had them. He didn’t walk away from something like this. Didn’t turn his back on defenseless ones who cry out that something’s wrong and they can’t make it right. When someone couldn’t fight for themselves, Ben would do it for them. Had always been that way, took up for those who couldn’t take up for themselves.
Except his own brother.
But he had a second chance to make things right. Nothing could mess that up. He refused to let anything get in the way of taking over care of Hutton in his downtime. He’d figure out plans for what to do with Hutton during missions.
Wonderment stole over Ben as he studied Reece. So much like Hutton. Childlike. Dependent. Unconditionally loving. Reaching for normalcy. In need of security. Protection. Nurturing. His heart expanded then squeezed. This child had wiggled her way in it just that fast. When she’d burrowed beneath his arms and chosen to cling with trust that he had a feeling didn’t come easy, she’d embedded herself deep into his heart.
Compassion dropped Ben to his knees to place steadying hands on her moping shoulders. “Reece, listen, we had to call someone. I didn’t have a choice.”
Hurt and betrayal spun like violent hurricanes in the gulf of angry eyes. Like lightning reaching to earth, it jabbed across the space separating them, leaving regret smoldering in the carnage.
“Reece…”
Dark clouds of accusation hovered. Any trace of vulnerability fled her face. Except her bottom lip, which quivered like palm trees in a high wind as it fought to form words. “I thought you were mine and Bearby’s friend. If they come, they’ll take me away. If they take me from Mommy, Bearby and me will never, ever like you again…
“And neither will Mommy.”
Chapter Two
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.
