Child Wanted

As she grew closer, Ethan noticed more details about the striking woman. Arched brows above thick lashes that surrounded vivid blue eyes. Sleek nose, high cheekbones, full lips. And a trickle of endearing pale copper freckles dotting the top of each cheek.

She had one of those faces you would see on a fashion magazine and know that a masterful hand had utilized an abundance of airbrush skills. But this woman hadn’t been airbrushed. In fact, other than a soft sheen of pink gloss on her lips, she didn’t appear to wear any makeup at all.

Honestly, he wouldn’t have thought anything could take his mind off his potential adoption, and he rarely paid attention to any woman after how badly he’d been burned in the past. But then again, he was a healthy, single, thirty-year-old man, and he appreciated a pretty woman when he saw one.

Pretty?

No.

Beautiful. Very beautiful.

And from the way she glanced away when their eyes met, she had no idea.

* * *

Lindy’s heart lodged in her throat, her skin bristled and, for a moment, she feared she’d go into shock in front of all the adults who seemed way too close. Too close to Lindy.

Too close to her son.

Jerry. He’d grown so much, but she felt certain those were the eyes she’d loved, the cheeks she’d kissed, the little mouth that curved up at the edges when she’d tickled him and he released those precious baby belly giggles that she’d adored.

He wasn’t smiling now. His eyes weren’t full of life. And he was no longer a baby.

Moreover, he looked...as lost as she felt.

Jerry.

Was this her son? And if he was, how would she ever explain why she’d been gone so long? How did you tell a four-year-old that his mommy never wanted to leave him? How would a four-year-old understand the difference in guilty...and innocent? How could he comprehend that, though a jury had been convinced she was a murderer, they had been so very terribly wrong?

A blond-haired girl with Daisy on her shirt ran toward Lindy. “Can I have one of your bags? Rose got the last one from Mr. Ethan.” She pointed to the man seated on the park bench nearest Lindy.

Even sitting down, he gave the appearance of tall, dark and—without a doubt—handsome. The kind of handsome that would make most women do a double take. Or simply stare. Lindy jerked her attention away from the man and back to the boy.

“That’s Mr. Ethan,” Daisy continued. “What’s your name?”

Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze from the little boy to the girl. “Lindy,” she managed, then, still getting accustomed to using her maiden name again, she added, “Lindy Burnett.”

“I like that name.” Daisy bobbed her head for emphasis and sent blond pigtails swinging.

“Thank you.” Lindy liked the name, too, much more than Melinda Sue Flinn, which would undoubtedly spark recognition. And, most likely, disdain.

“So, can I have one of your bags?” Daisy asked.

“Sure.” Lindy handed her the brown sack and then asked the little boy that she believed to be her son, “Do you need some more, too?”

He looked at her, his head tilting for a moment, then his attention turned to the adults gathered around the fountain. And he held his ground.

“He’s a little shy.” The guy on the nearest bench glanced toward Jerry. “Maybe you can put the bag on the edge by the fountain?”

Her chin wobbled and she felt instantly stung, but she reeled her emotions in and placed the bag where he’d indicated. Then she moved to a vacant park bench to watch the boy she’d dreamed of holding each and every day since he’d been taken from her arms.

Take the bag, sweetie. Come on, please.

She knew she couldn’t let this group know who she was, because they were certainly affiliated with the children’s home that currently had custody of Jerry. But she needed to connect with her son. Some way. Somehow.

And she had to get him back.

Jerry studied the bag from where he stood, but when an excited black goose with a bright red beak waddled toward it, he quickly put his small feet into action. When he reached the sack, Lindy leaned forward so that she was merely a few feet from the boy.

“Hey there.” She studied those clear blue eyes, remembered the first time they’d looked at her, when the nurse had held him close to her face in the delivery room and she’d felt a love like she’d never known before. A connection. A bond that couldn’t be separated by space, or time...or prison walls. “What’s your name?” She knew this was her little man, but she wanted to hear him say it, needed to verify what her heart had already confirmed.

He took the bag, held it for a moment as he looked at her, and then returned to the other side of the fountain to toss his bread.

What had happened to him since she’d been away?

Dear God, please. I need to know. Is he mine? Is that my Jerry?

Her features tight with emotion, she turned toward the man—Ethan—sitting on the adjacent bench and for the first time noticed the woman at the other end. It was easy to understand why she hadn’t noticed her before, with the way he captured attention. But Lindy didn’t want to notice the dark, wavy hair, the warm brown eyes that looked so kind, so appealing. Or the smile that seemed so sincere. She’d fallen prey to that kind of deception in the past and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

So she focused on the woman. She looked to be mid-thirties, with pale blond hair, and was dressed in a crisp white blouse and navy slacks. She seemed intent on surveying the little boy now timidly tossing bread to the geese. She was, no doubt, the social worker assigned to the case.

That explained why she was here, but how did Ethan fit into Jerry’s world? And what about the couple with the two girls? Were they the ones she’d heard about, the “good home” that her son would have when the adoption went through?

Lindy could have asked several questions to try to put the pieces together, but instead she asked the one she most needed to know. “Is he okay?”

Ethan released an audible breath, his full lower lip rolling in before he answered, “He will be.” His head moved slowly up and down, affirming his resolve. He sounded so certain, so determined, that Lindy wondered how he could be that sure. Because she didn’t see any way Jerry would be okay without his mother.

And she would never be okay without her son.

The social worker glanced at her bag, then added, “He’s recently been placed at Willow’s Haven, the children’s home nearby, and he’s still adjusting to the new environment. His name is Jerry.”

Jerry. Adrenaline burned through her at the mere mention of his name. She’d found him. This was her little boy. Her son. Right here. Merely feet away after so many minutes, hours and days—three long years—staring at the walls of a four-by-eight cell and dreaming of seeing him again, longing to hold him again. But the odds were against her, and she had to maintain her composure to have any chance of spending time with him now.

The attorney’s words from this morning’s conversation echoed through her thoughts.

Your son’s adoption may have already been finalized, and if that’s the case, it’ll be even more difficult for you to obtain custody again through a reverse adoption, where the court basically reverses the decision and returns the child to his biological parent.

Lindy swallowed thickly, looked toward her little boy and silently prayed. Please, God, You know how much I need him in my life. And You know how much he needs me. “So is he—Can he be adopted?”

The woman placed a hand on her bulging red satchel. “That’s our goal. I’m Candace Yost, the social worker assigned to Jerry’s case. Yes, eventually he can be adopted. And I feel certain he’ll have his forever home this time.” She looked fondly toward Ethan.

A shiver of fear inched down Lindy’s spine as the man between Lindy and the social worker—and between Lindy and her son—turned toward her and displayed a smile that typically melted a female’s heart, the kind that had once melted Lindy’s.

Not anymore. The only male she cared about now was the four-year-old on the other side of the fountain.

“I’m Ethan Green,” he said, “and I want to adopt Jerry.”

She looked beyond this Ethan Green, who with a simple introduction had become her biggest adversary, and instead focused on Jerry, now feeding the geese. “I do, too.”