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.”
Chapter Three
Ben held his tongue when Reece stirred. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, yawning. The transformation in Amelia mystified him.
Her face lit with an incalculable amount of love when she scooped up the girl as if she were a long-sought-after, newly found treasure. “Hey, Reece’s Pieces. Have a good nap?”
Reece hugged her mom back, then scuttled beside her to eye the tubing in Amelia’s arm. “Is that the medicine that fixed your electric lights, Mommy?”