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Child Wanted
Renee Andrews
A Mother’s Second ChanceLindy Burnett can hardly believe it: She’s found her son. In the three years they’ve been separated, Lindy has thought of nothing else but her little boy. But Jerry doesn’t remember her—and he’s about to be adopted. His would-be father, schoolteacher Ethan Green, would do anything for the child—except give him up. Ethan has no idea of Lindy’s connection to the boy, but there is no denying the connection Ethan feels to her. His painful past makes him hesitant to trust her, but their mutual love for Jerry might be strong enough to help them find their way home…to each other.Willow’s Haven: Where families find each other


A Mother’s Second Chance
Lindy Burnett can hardly believe it: she’s found her son. In the three years they’ve been separated, Lindy has thought of nothing else but her little boy. But Jerry doesn’t remember her—and he’s about to be adopted. His would-be father, schoolteacher Ethan Green, would do anything for the child—except give him up. Ethan has no idea of Lindy’s connection to the boy, but there is no denying the connection Ethan feels to her. His painful past makes him hesitant to trust her, but their mutual love for Jerry might be strong enough to help them find their way home...to each other.
“So, did y’all catch anything, Jerry?” Lindy asked.
“No, ma’am,” he said, “but Mr. Ethan said we’re going to get some Popsicles anyway.”
Her gaze moved from Jerry to Ethan, and he saw a hint of appreciation in her eyes that went straight to his heart.
“Yeah, sometimes those fish do play hide-and-seek,” she said, “but I’m hoping they won’t play so well the next time.”
“Me, too,” Jerry said, nibbling the end of his Popsicle.
“I got you a peach one,” Ethan said.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. “But thank you.”
Jerry glanced at Ethan, and then watched Lindy as she tried hers. “Do you like it, Miss Lindy?”
She nodded. “I like this,” she said, giving him a tender smile. “I like this very much.”
Ethan watched her, eating his Popsicle and sitting beside his future son, and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the Popsicle. She, like Ethan, enjoyed the feeling of sitting on the porch with a little boy, spending time together on a beautiful early summer day.
And he found himself suddenly wondering if what she liked so much about this moment included him.
RENEE ANDREWS spends a lot of time in the gym. No, she isn’t working out. Her husband, a former All-American gymnast, owns a gym and coaches gymnastics. Renee is a kidney donor and actively supports organ donation. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys traveling with her husband and bragging about their sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren. For more info on her books or on living donors, visit her website at reneeandrews.com (http://www.reneeandrews.com).
Child Wanted
Renee Andrews


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
—Ephesians 4:32
This book is dedicated to the ladies who lunch: Connie, Gay, Linda and Marie. Life is so much better when I get to spend time with all of you!
Contents
Cover (#u8238c454-519c-55d4-82d1-267ec73e853b)
Back Cover Text (#u276e560a-6359-51c7-aaee-d28a8ea36e02)
Introduction (#ubadd93ef-4f7f-527f-ad72-5a15efe6753e)
About the Author (#u0f69ee3d-1ac3-53b1-9c1a-8620eee6908a)
Title Page (#u693d363b-3815-5ba5-b67c-e03db000b2f9)
Bible Verse (#ufe35bed8-2158-5364-b285-83aaef8ba110)
Dedication (#u3ebc6338-fb9f-51aa-be22-036ef63d5d87)
Chapter One (#u5dd65ed2-7d03-5e9e-9d80-0b814144f75e)
Chapter Two (#u1be40f02-62f0-542a-99bf-a3978f15ee5b)
Chapter Three (#ud57ef981-0a1d-57aa-bfcd-0e7757fe71ff)
Chapter Four (#u79ebb221-8a21-5684-84ca-caace833b3ac)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ubf17a766-3d5e-5513-a423-67f7de17765a)
“Jerry, this is Mr. Green.”
Ethan Green crouched to eye level with Jerry Flinn as Mrs. Yost, the social worker, introduced the four-year-old boy to the thirty-year-old man. “Hey, Jerry. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
Talk about an understatement. Every day for the past three years, Ethan had prayed for the sandy-haired, freckle-faced child. He was fisting his hands in the fabric of his navy T-shirt as he edged backward, his eyes darting from the social worker to Ethan to the couple that ran the children’s home in this tiny town of Claremont, Alabama, where Jerry had been placed merely three days ago.
Ethan recognized the panic, the terror, pushing through his future son’s veins. He wanted to run. Or cry. Or both. But he also wanted to be tough. Be strong. Control the fear.
Ethan knew each of these emotions firsthand.
God, please help me know what to do, what to say, to gain his trust.
“Hey Jerry, I got some bread for you and your friends to give the geese.” Ethan held up the brown lunch sacks of stale bread that he’d purchased at one of the stores on the town square. He knew the twins belonging to Brodie and Savvy Evans, the couple that ran Willow’s Haven, weren’t technically Jerry’s “friends” yet, since he’d only met Rose and Daisy three days ago, but Ethan wanted him to know that they would be. It was important for Jerry to understand that he would have friends and that he now had people who cared about him in his life.
Like Ethan.
“You got bread for us?” Rose hurried toward Ethan with Daisy at her heels. If their names weren’t on their pink and yellow T-shirts, he’d have never been able to tell them apart.
“I sure did.” He handed a bag to each girl and then waited for the little boy to approach him. Instead of moving toward Ethan, however, Jerry merely watched Rose and Daisy dart past him, their laughter filling the air as the squawking geese began a rendition of follow the leader, or rather, follow the bread sacks. Rose flung a piece behind her, and several headed for it, then she and Daisy tossed more on the opposite side.
The geese waddled beyond the girls to get to the scattered pieces. And Jerry held his ground, red tennis shoes rooted in place and hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.
“Jerry, I got a bag for you, too. Don’t you want to feed the geese?”
He looked at the girls and then the sack in Ethan’s hand. He slowly nodded.
Ethan said a quick prayer of thanks. “Okay then, here you go.” He extended the bag, but Jerry merely looked at it, still not budging.
“I’ll put the sack right here.” Ethan placed the paper bag on the concrete edge surrounding the three-tiered fountain that designated the center of Claremont’s town square. “And then I’m going to sit and watch you feed the geese, okay?”
Jerry’s gaze fixed on the bag.
Ethan walked away from the bread and sat on the opposite end of the park bench from the social worker. “You may want to get it soon—” he forced a little laugh “—or those geese may go after it without you.”
Daisy giggled from the other side of the fountain. “Yep, go on, Jerry. You need to get your bread and start feeding them before they eat all of ours!”
Jerry shot a glance toward the girls, surrounded by geese, then to his bag, and then to Ethan. Small shoulders lifted as he sought the courage to step toward the sack. Easing closer, he snagged it as if he thought Ethan planned to grab it first, before Jerry had a chance.
Maybe that was the type of thing he was used to, but that wasn’t the way things were—not anymore.
“Great.” Ethan gave him a thumbs-up. “Now you can feed those hungry geese.”
As if his words were an invitation, the geese transferred their focus from the girls to Jerry.
The little boy’s blue eyes widened, hinting at obvious fright at the onslaught of the noisy animals.
Ethan knew better than to rush toward the child, so he instead leaned forward on the park bench and spoke soothingly. “It’s okay, Jerry. Just toss a few pieces away from you. You can even throw some in the fountain if you want. They’ll probably get wet trying to get the bread.”
Undeniably frightened, Jerry plunged his fist into the bag, grabbed a handful of bread and flung it into the fountain. As predicted, the geese headed into the splashing water, dipping their heads beneath the surface and wiggling their backsides in an effort to get the sinking and bobbing bits of bread.
Rose and Daisy jumped up and down, clapping and laughing at the spectacle. But Jerry clamped his mouth together. Was he afraid to smile? Had he gotten in trouble for laughing or smiling in the past? He also kept peering toward Ethan and Brodie, the only men near the fountain, as though expecting some sort of reprimand for tossing the bread.
Ethan scrubbed a hand down his face, at a loss for how to handle the situation. As an eighth-grade English teacher, he interacted with adolescents on a daily basis and attempted to provide a fatherly example to the kids in his classes. But he’d never spent a lot of time with four-year-olds, particularly ones who had been so abused that they feared the majority of adults.
Which was exactly why Ethan wanted to adopt Jerry. Every little boy deserved a father he could count on, someone to care for him and protect him. Ethan could do that for Jerry. He wanted to. He’d prayed to be able to.
But, in all of his anticipation for how this first meeting would play out, he hadn’t considered the extent of the boy’s fear.
If Gil Flinn weren’t a dead man, Ethan would have a hard time fighting the impulse to make him pay for the trepidation in his little boy’s eyes. And if Melinda Sue Flinn weren’t behind bars for killing him, he’d let her know exactly what he thought of a mother who’d stand by and allow her husband to abuse their son.
“He’ll need time.” Mrs. Yost jotted another note on her tablet and then slid it in the large red bag that appeared to hold enough files for at least twenty children. “He’s been through so much, not only with what happened with his birth parents but also another upheaval with his first long-term placement in the system not working out.”
Ethan nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. He felt even more empathy toward the sad little boy.
“But the good news is,” she continued, “based on his past experience with other placements, he’ll adapt to his new surroundings within a few days. He’ll still be a little downhearted every now and then, but I believe, given everything I’ve learned about you, that you would understand what he’s feeling probably better than anyone else.”
Ethan’s jaw flexed involuntarily. She had no idea.
“The previous couple who wanted to adopt Jerry didn’t understand how to handle his disconnect with the family unit. Children who have been through that type of emotional trauma need extra care to build trust. We tried to convey that prior to them taking Jerry into their home, and they had felt certain that it would be a good situation, but—” her mouth curved down at the corners “—it was more difficult than they expected.”
Ethan didn’t think much more of the couple who’d turned the boy away than he did Jerry’s biological parents. But now wasn’t the time to judge. Now was the time to let Jerry know that all adults wouldn’t necessarily disappoint him. Or hurt him. “I understand what he needs. Someone who will love him unconditionally. Someone who will actually care.”
Rose and Daisy attempted to get Jerry to join them on the other side of the fountain. “Come over here.” Rose crooked a small finger. “Watch the way they follow the bread into the water. It’s so funny.”
Jerry took a timid step toward the girls, then tilted his head toward their parents, standing a few feet away, and froze.
“It’s okay, Jerry.” Brodie took his wife’s hand and led her away from the twins toward a wrought iron bench on the opposite side of the fountain. “You can play with Rose and Daisy. We’ll sit here and watch you feed the birds.”
Savvy shoved her shoulder into the side of his arm. “Geese, Brodie. They’re geese.” She laughed, and the girls joined in, their happy giggles filling the air.
Jerry blinked several times, watching the joy between the family, and then furrowed his brow. He squeezed his hand so hard around the top of the bag that his tiny knuckles turned white, then he dropped his head and dragged one shoe across the soft earth.
Ethan’s heart clenched in pain for the boy. And apparently the social worker’s did, too, because she whispered, “God, please help him.”
From the night he’d heard Jerry’s story on the news, Ethan had wanted the little boy. He knew what Jerry had gone through, and he knew what the child needed. Love. Time. Patience. Protection. Things that had never been given to Jerry before.
And things that had never been given to Ethan.
“Mr. Ethan, we’re out of bread.” Daisy darted toward the bench, and Rose followed.
He had one more sack. “I have another bag that y’all can share.”
Rose’s lower lip puckered. “But Jerry is out of bread, too, and that won’t be very much for all three of us.”
“Rose, don’t be greedy,” Brodie called from the other side of the fountain. “Say thank you.”
“I have two bags.”
Ethan didn’t recognize the soft, feminine voice, and when he turned to see who’d spoken, he was taken aback by the stunning woman walking toward the group.
She moved shyly and slowly, yet gracefully. She wore a white lace-trimmed blouse topped with a sheer pale pink cardigan and a long floral skirt that nearly reached her white sandals. Strawberry blond hair caught the afternoon sunlight and tumbled freely in red-gold waves past her shoulders.
Ethan waited to see if anyone would introduce the lady, but they all seemed as surprised by her appearance as he was.
“I have some bread that they can have,” she repeated. “If that’s okay.”
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.”
* * *
Lindy’s jolt at realizing her little boy was merely feet away had affected her ability to choose words wisely. She’d spoken the truth. She wanted to adopt Jerry. More precisely, she wanted to regain custody of her son. Thankfully, she hadn’t made that statement, or the looks of surprise on both their faces would more likely have been looks of horror.
“You...want to adopt Jerry?” Ethan’s question smacked Lindy with the same rousing force as the water from the fountain hit those determined geese. It woke her up and made her realize her error—and also caused her to look at the man who reminded her of the husband who’d hurt her so badly. The man who intended to adopt her child.
Her. Child.
She needed to rectify her mistake, or she might not get a chance to spend more time with Jerry and find a way to have him in her life again.
“I meant that I would also like to adopt a child.” She prayed they couldn’t hear the wobble in her voice brought on by this landslide of emotions. After quickly organizing her thoughts, she explained, “I—wouldn’t be able to adopt right now, though.”
The truth of that statement slammed her with the same intensity as Nika’s fists in the prison yard, when Lindy had mistakenly crossed paths with the inmate known as the Agitator. Or Gil’s fists on practically every night of their marriage.
Lindy pushed the horrid memories away and watched her son, so quiet and withdrawn, the way he’d always been when Gil was at home and he was afraid of his daddy’s temper. Even at just fourteen months, he’d known to be fearful of his father. But when it’d just been the two of them in the house, when he’d been alone with Lindy, he’d laughed, smiled, played.
Would he now be consumed by sadness forever?
She wanted to hold him, hug him. But he hadn’t recognized her, hadn’t known his mother at all.
And why should he? Not only did she look different now, but he’d been a baby when she left. Now he was a little boy. The three years apart might as well have been ten.
He didn’t know her.
The social worker cleared her throat. “Why wouldn’t you be able to adopt, Lindy?” Her tone was gentle, as though she knew the agony tormenting Lindy’s soul.
Lindy wanted to sprint the few feet to Jerry, pick him up and run. She wanted to go somewhere where she could take the time to show him that she loved him, and that she’d never, ever stopped loving him. But that would only make things worse. She needed to find a better way. A right way. A legal way.
Swallowing, she explained, “I couldn’t adopt a child now because I’ve...had a tough time over the past few years. I don’t have a family, or a job, or even a place to live.” Her stomach pitched at the truth. “I don’t have anything to offer a child.”
The couple on the other side of the fountain had started walking toward them and must have overheard her statement, because the woman moved toward Lindy’s bench and sat down. “That can’t be true,” she said softly. “Because the main thing kids need in their lives is love.”
Throughout her years at the prison, Lindy had taught herself not to cry. Crying was a weakness, and she couldn’t let the other inmates see her as the weakest. Consequently, she’d believed she no longer possessed the ability to release her tears. But they slipped free now, thick, wet drops edging down her cheeks.
Lindy wiped them away. “I don’t know what has me so upset.” The lie stung. She knew exactly what had her upset. Her son was here, right in front of her, and she had no idea what to do to get him back.
Forgive me, Lord. And help me now. Show me how to have Jerry in my life again. She was still trying to work her way back toward trusting God. Though she’d learned in the prison ministry that He’d never leave her, she still wondered where He had been the night the police had torn Jerry from her arms and charged her with her husband’s murder.
“Here.” Ethan moved toward her, a white handkerchief extended from his hand.
To ignore the offering might make the others wonder what she had against the man, so she took the soft white fabric and swiped at her cheeks. A crisp scent, earthy and masculine, filled her senses. She fought against inhaling deeper. She didn’t want to like this man, or the way he smelled, or the fact that, unlike any man she’d ever known, he still carried a handkerchief. “Thank you.”
The woman next to her, who now had an arm draped around Lindy’s shoulders, echoed her thoughts. “You carry a handkerchief?”
Ethan smiled. “I teach eighth graders. You know, the age when every girl gets her feelings hurt by another girl at some point in the school year. It never hurts to have a handkerchief handy.”
He taught school. And seemed nice. How would Lindy ever convince a court that she should have Jerry instead of this man?
Because she knew from past experience how a man could sway her opinion with his gorgeous good looks, or his swoonworthy charm. Gil had fooled the public—and Lindy—into believing he was a great catch and a good guy...and then had been the exact opposite behind closed doors.
“Here.” She attempted to return the handkerchief, but Ethan shook his head.
“You keep it. Like I said, I go through them rather quickly, and I have plenty more.” Another charming smile, showing off straight white teeth amid a tan face, threatened to knock her senses off balance. “Seriously, keep it,” he said.
Lindy didn’t have the wherewithal to argue, so she nodded. “Thanks.” Then she caught sight of Jerry, easing toward the fountain with the last bits of his bread.
“Look at that one with the bread on his back,” one of the twins said, giggling and pointing.
Jerry followed the direction of her finger and nodded. Lindy felt a sliver of hope. He was interacting with other children and, for a moment, didn’t look quite so sad.
She so wanted to see him smile.
“You said you need a job and a place to stay, right?” the lady beside her asked.
“Yes.” She’d stayed in cheap—very cheap—hotels over the past week, but after buying the little used car that she’d needed to get to Claremont and purchasing a limited supply of clothing, she’d depleted almost all of the money she’d saved when she’d been married to Gil. Lindy was glad she’d been trying to save for a vehicle back then, or she wouldn’t have had anything beyond the ten dollars of “gate money” she’d been given when she was released.
“Well, I happen to know that my grandparents are looking for help at their sporting goods store.” She pointed behind Lindy. “I’m Savvy Evans, but my maiden name is Bowers, and my grandparents’ store is over there. Bowers’s Sporting Goods. I actually worked there before we started the children’s home, and let me tell you, you won’t find any better people to work for.”
“Of course, she’s a little prejudiced, but it’s the truth.” The man beside her grinned. “I’m Savvy’s husband, Brodie Evans.”
Lindy couldn’t believe this turn of events. “You think they might hire me?” She’d already considered the difficulty of finding employment. If there were any sort of application process, or even a request for references, she didn’t have a prayer.
Savvy nodded assuredly. “Of course I do.”
God, I’m trying to learn to trust You, but how are You going to pull this off?
Savvy continued to smile, and Lindy was struck by how much the offer meant to her. “We were planning to go over there and talk to my grandparents about our new fishing program after we leave the fountain. That’s what this position would involve, primarily working with the new Fishers of Men program that we’re starting for the kids at Willow’s Haven. Why don’t you come with us and talk to them about the job?”
Lindy couldn’t remember the last time anyone had offered to help her, if ever. Then she thought about the man who’d just given her a handkerchief when she cried. The same one who wanted to adopt her son—and take Jerry away from her permanently.
He looked at her now, and an instant awareness inched through her, the sensation that she’d been noticed by an extremely handsome man. Which was quickly followed by the memory of the last time an attractive man had noticed her. Then married her. And hurt her. Repeatedly.
“Why don’t you go with us?” he asked, as though he thought she might want encouragement from him.
She didn’t. In fact, she wanted him to leave, to get away from her and, more important, from her son.
“I wanted to go there anyway, to see what Jerry and I will need for the time we’re going to spend together this summer. As much as I’ll admit I have no clue about fishing, I’m still excited about learning to fish with him.” He displayed another smile that punched her in the heart. He would be spending time with Jerry this summer.
But so would she.
She turned to Savvy. “I’d like to talk to them about the job.”
“Awesome! Let’s go.” Savvy smiled broadly. So did Ethan.
But Lindy could only pray. Pray that God would give her this chance to be around her little boy on a regular basis. She needed to get to know him again and show him that she loved him while the attorney figured out the best way for her to regain custody.
And if that meant spending time with Ethan Green, so be it.
Chapter Two (#ubf17a766-3d5e-5513-a423-67f7de17765a)
Ethan walked with the group toward the sporting goods store and considered how he’d arrived in Claremont this morning with one goal: to begin the process of adopting Jerry and showing this little guy that someone would care about him, someone would love him unconditionally, never abandon him and take care of his every need.
In other words, he wanted to be the kind of father that he’d never had, to a boy who was so much like himself.
Because of Ethan’s own past, he’d always been drawn to those who’d been hurt or mistreated. That was why he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who’d pierced his heart with her story.
She wanted to adopt a child but didn’t think she had anything to offer. She had no family. No job. No home.
What had happened to Lindy Burnett?
And how could Ethan help?
They reached the sporting goods store, and the twins darted inside to see their great-grandparents, Brodie and Savvy following. But Jerry didn’t join the group. Instead, he peered at the window display, which featured a bright green pedal boat suspended in the air and fishing gear propped on a sea of blue fabric.
Candace, Ethan and Lindy stopped near the boy as he placed his palms against the window and examined the items.
“What do you think of all that?” Ethan asked. “Pretty cool, huh?”
Jerry’s small fingers curled in as he moved his hands together to bracket his eyes and catch a better view. “Yes,” he said, then he jerked his head toward Ethan and quickly added, “sir.”
While Ethan was glad Jerry had finally spoken to him, he still glanced to the social worker and wondered if she was thinking the same thing—that the little boy had apparently gotten in trouble in the past for not addressing adults with respect.
What kind of trouble? Ethan wondered. And at whose hand? Who had caused the fear in those bright blue eyes? The last family he’d lived with had wanted to adopt him then decided against it, but Jerry had been in several short-term placements before he’d ended up with them. Undoubtedly, at least one of those homes had put this fear in the boy, because Jerry would’ve been too young to have worried about saying “sir” to Gil Flinn.
How many people had already hurt this child?
Lindy’s mouth turned down at the edges, and then she slowly crouched next to Jerry at the window, her long floral skirt gathering around her as she spoke to the doleful boy. “That green thing is called a pedal boat,” she said softly. “I always thought it would be fun to try one, but I’ve never had the chance.” She pulled at the edges of her pink cardigan as she leaned against the brick building and looked directly into Jerry’s eyes. Ethan was thrown once again by the sheer beauty of the woman, particularly as she spoke so tenderly to the boy. “Do you think it’d be fun, Jerry?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, but then shook his head. “No.” He paused. “No, ma’am.”
Lindy’s lower lip trembled, and Ethan stepped closer.
“You don’t think that’d be fun, Jerry?” he asked.
Another emphatic shake, and Ethan wondered what had just transpired in the boy’s head. Why had he changed his mind so quickly? More fear?
Lindy released a heavy breath that reflected Ethan’s feelings. She looked pained, as if she felt as much agony over the child’s situation as Ethan.
Did she?
“Why don’t we go in the store, Jerry, and see what else they have, okay?” Candace prompted, placing a palm against Jerry’s back to guide him away from the window.
Ethan stepped ahead to open the door for his future son. “Want to head inside, Jerry?”
Still staring at the pedal boat, he shook his head, as though answering a silent question, then he eased away from the window and entered the store. Candace followed, while Ethan held the door.
But Lindy remained crouched near the window. Her petite features were drawn, and a heavy tear slid down her left cheek. She made no effort to wipe it away, and Ethan watched as it moved past her jaw and then trickled down the slender column of her throat.
I don’t have a family, or a job, or even a place to live.
Like Jerry, the attractive woman’s world had been upended.
But how?
She slowly stood and discreetly brushed the side of her hand along the path the tear had taken. “He wants to be strong, but he’s scared.”
Ethan thought the same thing, because he knew from experience. But how was she so sure? What had happened in her world? He released his hold on the door and allowed it to close, not wanting Jerry to overhear his words. “I have to wonder how I—or how any adult—will ever gain his trust.”
She chewed her lower lip and then swallowed. “It’ll take time, but I have to show him he can trust again.”
“You have to show him?” Ethan asked. Why would she think that was her responsibility?
“We,” she corrected herself. “We—adults—have to show him that he can trust again.”
The door opened, and Savvy peeked out. “Hey, my grandparents are eager to meet y’all.”
Daisy stuck her head out near Savvy’s hip and peered up at her. “Mom, come look at the new pink and purple life jackets they’ve got.” She tugged on the hem of Savvy’s shirt. “They’re girl colors, and one even has flowers on it.”
Savvy grinned. “I should go check those out.” She looked at Lindy and raised a finger. “Something to note, sporting goods stores aren’t just for guys anymore.” Then she smiled, and left them alone again.
“You may want to bring that up when you’re interviewing for the job,” he said, trying to lighten things and put her more at ease before she talked to the owners.
Lindy blinked, her long lashes still damp as she nodded. “Thanks, I will.”
Ethan suddenly recalled the last time he’d wanted to help a beautiful, troubled female. He’d only meant to give Jenny comfort and be a friend to her after she’d lost her parents. But he’d ended up falling for his friend. They’d grown closer, and both proclaimed love. Planned to be together forever. Gotten engaged. And then he’d lost his fiancée and his best man, when she’d left Ethan for Sean.
No doubt Lindy Burnett needed someone to care about her, someone to help her, maybe even someone to love her. But Ethan could only go so far. He could be kind. He could attempt to help. But he couldn’t let himself fall in love.
He could also pray for her and ask God to give her the job she needed, the child she wanted, the life she desired. That was what he could do, what he should do.
What he would do.
And he’d maintain the reins on his heart, the way he’d vowed to do after Jenny had left him two days before their wedding and married Sean six months later.
He opened the door again. “Ready to go get that job?”
She stepped through the entrance, Ethan trying not to notice the way her freckles looked more copper up close, or how her strawberry waves swayed against her shoulder when she moved, or that she smelled like sweet honey.
God, help her get this job. Help her adopt a child. Help her have a family again. Help her find love. And, God, help me keep my mind on Jerry...and off her.
He entered and turned away from Lindy, who was already speaking to Savvy about the potential job, and looked for the boy who would hopefully be his son soon.
Ethan perused the immaculate store, impressed with the amount of inventory. The floor space wasn’t large, yet Savvy’s grandparents had organization down to an art, with each section identified by sport. Football, basketball, soccer and baseball composed the front left side. Supplies for outdoor activities, such as kayaks, tents and fishing gear, filled the front right. The back of the store held items for golfing, tennis, track and so on.
“Look at this, Jerry. What do you think?” He selected a tiny leather T-ball glove from one of the wire baskets hanging along the left wall. Growing up, Ethan had enjoyed baseball. In Alabama, they kept the sport going year-round, which had worked for him, since he was always moving from one foster home to another. He didn’t have to learn a new activity, and by high school, he was known for having a pretty good arm. Pretty good swing, too, truth be told.
“Want to try it on? I can show you how it fits over your hand, and maybe we could go to a field around here and learn to catch some baseballs.” Ethan’s blood pumped fiercely, excitement palpable as he imagined this summer and all the days he and Jerry would spend at the local park. “Doesn’t that sound great?”
The little boy looked glumly at the glove and said nothing.
Candace knelt beside him and offered him a smile. “Jerry, would you like to play baseball sometime with Mr. Green? You can tell us if you don’t want to, or you can tell us if you do.”
Ethan could almost see himself in the scene before him, a tiny little boy listening to his social worker trying to sort out what was going on in his mind. They’d all been so nice, but he’d never had the courage to tell them the truth. What did he want? A real home. To stop moving every year. Or every month. He’d wanted a dad who loved him and cared for him. And a mom who wouldn’t stand by while his father beat him until, at merely six years old, Ethan could no longer stand.
“I don’t want to play baseball.” Jerry’s soft words weren’t delivered to Candace, but to Ethan.
He didn’t want to play baseball. That ruined Ethan’s vision, but still...he’d answered Ethan. Not Candace, but Ethan.
“Okay, then, we’ll do something else,” he said, regrouping his plans for father/son time. No baseball, no problem. He already knew they would be fishing together, since the Fishers of Men program was planned for every child at Willow’s Haven. Ethan had hoped, though, that they might find something in common that he had some sort of experience with. But in any case, he indicated the fishing items on the opposite side of the store. “We can go look at the fishing gear with Rose and Daisy if you want.”
Jerry didn’t answer, but he nodded. Another step in the right direction.
Ethan and Candace led him toward Brodie and the girls, who were checking out kid-sized fishing rods displayed in a bright yellow bucket. Savvy had taken Lindy to the back of the store to talk to her grandparents about the potential job. He watched as Savvy made introductions, and Lindy’s hand moved back to her throat as she gave them a watery smile.
How could someone so stunning have so little confidence?
“We’re excited about the Fishers of Men program,” Brodie said. “We weren’t sure we’d be able to get enough mentors from the community, but one announcement at church and a few flyers placed at the businesses around the square led to plenty.”
Ethan turned his attention from Lindy’s interview to Brodie. “Yeah, it seems like a great way for folks to spend time with the kids.” And Jerry was looking at the fishing gear with interest, which was better than the baseball glove fail.
Brodie examined the white price tag on a fishing rod. “Learning to fish and enjoying God’s creation—a terrific way to bond with the kids. It was Savvy’s idea, of course.” He picked up the rod, weighed it in his hand and grinned. “She’s always coming up with ways to involve the community in the kids’ lives.”
“Sounds like so much fun,” Candace said, tilting her head toward Jerry and pulling a red fishing rod from the yellow bucket.
Ethan didn’t know the first thing about fishing. Nothing. He’d never had anyone take him to a lake or teach him to put one of those reels on the rod or even show him how to bait a hook.
But Jerry, holding the red fishing rod, looked at him now as though waiting for someone to offer to do something with him...the same way Ethan had always prayed for someone to spend time with him.
Seriously, God? Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen. But me? I haven’t got a clue. You know that. Why not baseball?
Yet Ethan found himself asking, “You want to be my fishing buddy for the summer, Jerry?”
Jerry looked at the rod, and then at Ethan. “Yes, sir.”
No, it wasn’t his sport of choice, but Jerry actually wanted to fish...with Ethan. Ethan wanted to pick the kid up, swing him around and cheer, but they weren’t anywhere near that point. Yet. Instead, he took a deep breath and prayed that he wouldn’t stink too badly at fishing. Okay, Lord. Here we go. “Well, all right, then.”
Candace smiled. “A perfect opportunity to bond, don’t you think?”
“I do.” Ethan couldn’t disagree, even if he wondered how many other adults would be watching him. He’d have to pray no one caught the process on video. He could just imagine his students having a field day with Mr. Green’s botched fishing experience.
“Some of my best memories growing up are from fishing with my friends.” Brodie grinned. “I remember one time John Cutter hooked my ear on a cast that went wrong.” He touched his right ear. “Still got the scar from that one.”
Ethan winced and instinctively cupped a hand over one ear. “I hope we don’t make those kind of memories, Jerry, don’t you?”
Jerry squinted up at him, and gave him something that resembled a grin.
Ethan’s pulse tripped, and his heart soared. Fishing. If that was what it took to make Jerry happy and able to trust him, then that’s what Ethan would do. “So I guess I’ll need to start purchasing some of this fishing gear?”
“You can, or you can just rent the equipment for the summer, whatever works best. Savvy’s grandparents do provide a fifty percent discount to folks participating in the program, so if you think you may want to keep fishing after it’s done, that’d be a great deal.”
Ethan didn’t want Jerry seeing anything they did together as short-term, so he quickly answered, “That’s what we’ll want.”
“I thought you might.” Brodie leaned down to help Rose and Daisy, who’d managed to get two fishing rods locked together. “Savvy’s grandparents have a list of recommended supplies. Why don’t you go get a copy and find out when all of the gear we’ve requested for the program will be available in the store? They were supposed to hear from the supplier this morning.”
“Sounds good.” Ethan left the group and worked his way through circular racks of life jackets and hip waders to find Savvy and an older gentleman filling a square purple bin with small tackle boxes.
“These will be great for the kids,” she said, then noticed him approaching. “Hey, Ethan, this is my grandfather, James Bowers. Granddaddy, this is Ethan Green. He’s the man I told y’all about, the one who wants to adopt the little boy who came to Willow’s Haven a few days ago.”
“That’s wonderful, son.” Mr. Bowers extended a hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ethan could get used to the friendliness of this town. Birmingham was a friendly place, too, but with a population of 200,000 compared to Claremont’s roughly 4,500, it lacked the everyone-knows-everyone feeling of Claremont. And Ethan found that he liked it, a lot.
“Everything going okay up front with the kids?” Savvy asked.
“Yes, but I wanted to see about getting a list of supplies for the Fishers of Men program.” He spotted a small blue lifejacket and thought it’d probably be Jerry’s size. He’d need to add that to the list. They wouldn’t need it for fishing on the bank, but if they ventured out on a boat, he’d need one. He thought about the pedal boat and Jerry’s apparent fear. And the fact that Lindy had picked up on it, too.
Maybe she had that kind of intuition—a mother’s intuition.
But she didn’t have children. She’d said she had no family.
“Ah, right. The list for the Fishers of Men program,” Mr. Bowers said. “The printouts are in the office. Ask Jolaine to give you a copy. She’s in there talking to our newest employee.” He grinned, and Ethan did, too. Lindy had apparently gotten the job she needed.
“The office is back there, far right corner,” Savvy said, gesturing with her thumb over her shoulder.
“Thanks.” Ethan headed for the office, but slowed when he got close and heard Savvy’s grandmother and Lindy talking.
* * *
Lindy already adored the woman sitting across from her. Jolaine Bowers reminded her of her own grandmother, the one who’d raised Lindy and shown her the true meaning of unconditional love.
“So like I was saying, I had just said amen after asking God to get us some help for the summer, and then you came walking in,” Jolaine said.
The way she looked at Lindy now, her blue eyes radiating compassion, proved she wasn’t questioning whether Lindy would be a good employee or judging her or wondering about her background. “Isn’t that something, the way God works?”
Lindy wanted to simply agree and be done with it, take the job and spend her summer with Jerry until she got her son back for good, but that seemed way too easy. “Mrs. Bowers, I appreciate this opportunity. And I really need and want the job, but I have to be honest. You haven’t said anything about me filling out an application, and you should know that I don’t have any experience. In fact—” her voice hitched “—there are no real reasons you should hire me.”
Savvy’s grandmother leaned forward in her weathered brown desk chair, watching Lindy with undeniable kindness, as if she were sitting with her own granddaughter. “Honey, which part of me praying for you, and then you walking in didn’t you understand?” She placed her hand on top of Lindy’s as she spoke, and the warmth of it radiated up Lindy’s arm and straight to her heart.
“Mrs. Bowers, I can’t tell you how much your trust in me means, especially since you just met me.” Truthfully, Lindy couldn’t understand why the couple would have that kind of faith in a woman they didn’t know.
“Sweetie, my trust is in God, and He hasn’t steered me wrong. He sent you here today, I’m certain of it.” She gave Lindy an exaggerated wink.
In spite of what Lindy had learned about God from the prison ministry, she still wasn’t certain how much He could actually do. Or how He could keep her past from crippling her future. And her past would come out, along with the fact that, even though she was innocent of murder, she hadn’t protected her child. But regarding this position, she had no one to vouch that she’d be a good employee. Her grandmother had passed away six months after Lindy had been convicted. “I don’t have any references.”
“God sent you. That’s the only reference I need. And from what Savvy said, you don’t have a place to stay in Claremont yet. Is that right?”
Not only did she not have a place to stay, she didn’t have much of anything else either. She’d need more clothes for sure, but she’d seen a cute little consignment shop on the other side of the square that might have decent clothes at a price she could manage. “I don’t have a place to stay,” she admitted.
“Well, then, I meant to tell you that part of this job includes staying on-site, in case we have any after-hours deliveries and things like that. We have a little apartment upstairs where you can live, so that you’ll be here to help us out for those kinds of things.”
Lindy couldn’t help but ask, “Mrs. Bowers, was that a part of the job before you knew I needed a place to stay?”
“Now, sweetie, I know you’re not trying to talk me into fibbing,” she said, tilting her head in a “don’t go there” gesture that melted Lindy. “It’s a part of the job now, and that’s what matters. And the place isn’t anything fancy, but it’ll do.”
Lindy swallowed thickly, nodded and felt another batch of tears coming. She’d gone three years without a single droplet, and now the floodgates had opened.
The woman pointed a finger at Lindy. “Hey, now, we don’t allow tears in here. That’s cause for firing, you know.” Then she laughed, which sounded more like a teenager’s giggle than a grandmother’s. “Just kidding. Let me find you a tissue.”
“It’s okay. I have this.” Lindy held up Ethan’s handkerchief, wiped at her face and again smelled that crisp masculine scent that reminded her of the man who seemed so perfect. She finished dabbing at her face and put the handkerchief away. “I’ll be fine. I just haven’t had anyone be this nice to me in...a while.” Except for the heart-stoppingly handsome man who had given her the handkerchief...and who wanted her son.
“Well, then, we both had prayers answered today, I’d say.” Mrs. Bowers peeked around Lindy. “Oh, hello. You must be Ethan. Savvy told us about you, and how you’re planning to adopt that precious little boy.”
Lindy turned, surprised to find him behind her and wondering how much he’d heard. She hated the way her heart tripped over itself at the sight of the good-looking man, the same way it had fluttered the first time she’d seen Gil Flynn. When would she ever learn? She was in no place to think about romance. In fact, the only thing she should be thinking about—focusing on with every fiber of her being, rather—was her son.
Ethan cleared his throat, one corner of his mouth lifting as though he knew how his mere appearance affected her heart rate. “I apologize for interrupting, but Mr. Bowers said you would have the supply list for the Fishers of Men program, and it looks like I’m going to need to purchase some fishing equipment for me and Jerry.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Bowers clasped her hands together. “Well, isn’t that nice?” She shifted toward the desk and moved stacks of papers and files and sports magazines aside. “You know that you do have the option to rent the equipment, if you’d rather not have that kind of investment in it.”
“Brodie told me, but to tell you the truth, I don’t want Jerry to see anything I do with him as temporary. I want him to know I’m here to stay.” The other side of his mouth joined in for a full, pulse-skittering grin.
But Lindy was nowhere near smiling in return, especially after hearing he planned on a long-term commitment...with her son.
Mrs. Bowers, however, grinned broadly. “That’s so wonderful!” She withdrew a sheet of paper from a manila folder and handed it to Ethan. “Here you go then. We’ve got a bunch of kids signed up from Willow’s Haven, and the church is still matching them with mentors, but we should have all of our supplies in the store and ready to get started by Monday.” She handed the file to Lindy. “You’ll be the main one running the program, so I might as well give you this.”
Lindy accepted the folder, opened it and glanced down at the list of supplies, which included a fishing schedule at the bottom of the page.
“So we fish twice a week?” Ethan must have noticed the same thing.
“You do. Either Monday and Wednesday, or Tuesday and Thursday. You’re welcome to come on Fridays and Saturdays, too, if you want, but we don’t open on Sunday. That day is for the Lord,” Mrs. Bowers said, then turned her attention back to Lindy. “And you’ll be helping them with supplies, manning the store at the fishing hole while they’re all fishing, that type of thing. It isn’t a difficult job, but you’ll be busy.”
“I see that,” she said, still scanning the schedule, “but that’s okay. I like being busy, and I sure need the work.”
Mrs. Bowers gave her another wink and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You’re gonna be a pro at this, I can tell.”
“I hope so,” Lindy said, praying that she would also be a pro at interacting with her son and proving that she deserved him in her life again.
Mrs. Bowers tapped the paper. “They have forty-eight kids at Willow’s Haven. We’ve divided them into two groups, so you’ll have twenty-four who come Monday and Wednesday with their mentors, and then the others come Tuesday and Thursday. And like I told Ethan, they all have the option of fishing on the weekends, too, if they want. That may be more work hours than you had intended.”
“It’s fine,” Lindy said. More than fine, because she’d be showing the court that she could earn an income while also getting more time with Jerry. “In fact, it’s perfect.”
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Bowers clasped her fingers beneath her chin as though Lindy really had been the answer to her prayers.
And maybe she had.
Lindy leaned forward and hugged the lady. “Thank you, Mrs. Bowers. This—this is perfect.”
“No. Thank you, dear.”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Well, since I’m going to be mentoring Jerry, I guess we’ll be seeing each other on a regular basis, too.”
Lindy’s stomach roiled. “I guess we will.”
Chapter Three (#ubf17a766-3d5e-5513-a423-67f7de17765a)
Lindy unpacked an assortment of fishing tackle on Monday morning, her skin bristling with nerves about the day ahead. Surely she’d interact with Jerry, and hopefully she’d hear from the attorney about starting the process of getting her son back in her life. The two things she’d yearned for—prayed for—throughout the weekend.
But she’d also see Ethan Green. And she certainly hadn’t yearned for that. He was too appealing and way too charming. The kind of guy a court would believe had Jerry’s best interests at heart and could supply his every need.
And the kind of guy who might be a bad parent behind closed doors, the way Gil had been.
“Would you mind putting a bunch of those colorful sponge fish in the new display out front? I want the Willow’s Haven children to see some of their choices in the window before they enter the store.” Mrs. Bowers smiled. Lindy realized she did that quite a lot. She hadn’t seen a lot of smiles, if any, over the past three years. She attempted one in return, but she feared it came out as timid as she felt.
Thankfully, the woman didn’t seem to notice. She pointed toward the checkout counter. “There’s a new box over there by the cash register if you want to use those. Sound good?”
“Sure, I’d be happy to.” Lindy scooped up the box and carried it to the front, climbed around the curtain separating the display from the store and opened it to view a rainbow of soft sponge fish that the kids would use to practice casting. She withdrew a bright red one and squeezed it between her thumb and forefinger. Jerry had always preferred his red toys as a baby. His red rattle. His red plastic truck. She suspected he’d select at least one red fish for his practice bait.
She placed the squishy fish near the window, then began situating the other colorful sponges in and around the seams of aqua blue tulle that created the “water” in the window. The kids were due to arrive in an hour, and she, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Bowers, had been busy all morning getting everything ready.
So intent on making the area look nice for Jerry and all the other Willow’s Haven children, Lindy didn’t notice anyone enter the store, or she’d have been marginally prepared for the startlingly handsome man with an equally shocking husky voice who suddenly joined her in the tiny space.
“Can I help?”
Lindy dropped a fistful of fish, so that a clump of the vibrant bait covered one of the seams and looked more like a multicolored loofah than individual fish. But what woman would be able to concentrate—or hang on to those miniature sponges—with Ethan Green this near? He was tall, dark and dangerous. Maybe not dangerous to everyone, but definitely to Lindy, since he planned to adopt her son.
She prayed the new attorney, Ted Murrell, would take her case and that she could get away from—and get Jerry away from—this intimidating man.
“Sorry.” His mouth inched into a crooked grin that somehow made him even more appealing. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I assumed you heard me enter.”
But the goosebumps traveling up her arms had nothing to do with his sudden appearance and everything to do with how the mere presence of the mesmerizing male made her pulse race.
When would she ever learn?
Lindy moistened her lips, gathered her composure and accepted the fact that the man working his way into the display window had no intention of leaving. “No, I didn’t hear you. I—had my mind on other things.” Like wondering if red was still her little boy’s favorite color. And praying that she could somehow get a court to pick her over Ethan.
“I get that way sometimes, lost in my thoughts, usually when I have one of my students on my mind. So many kids growing up in broken homes, you know, and they bring that with them to the classroom.” He shrugged and reached for a handful of fish. “Sometimes I’m the only father figure in a kid’s life. I know I’m the teacher and not the dad, but it’s still a big responsibility, having that kind of impact in a child’s world.”
Lindy found her hand in the box at the same moment that he reached inside. Their fingers brushed, and she yanked hers out without capturing a single fish.
He noticed, studying her hands, now clenched against her stomach, and then looking at her with confusion...and speculation.
Don’t ask why I’m so jittery. Don’t. Ask.
Except for the prison guards and, on rare occasions, her state-appointed attorney, she hadn’t been around any men over the last three years. And she feared this one more than any other because he was eerily similar to the male who’d fooled her so well—and hurt her so deeply—in the past. Charming. Disarmingly good-looking. And appealing in an “I could be your very best friend and also an absolutely amazing husband” kind of way.
Before he could mention her nervousness, she tried to get the conversation back on track. “It’s nice that you’re a father figure to those kids.” She picked up the discarded fish and placed them sporadically around the fabric. “Is that what made you want to adopt Jerry?”
Of all the kids needing a good home, why had he selected her son?
His eyebrows dipped and his mouth eased to the side as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. Had she said too much? Could he tell how badly she wanted to know why he’d picked her kid?
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. That was probably too personal of a question for me to ask.” She pushed the fabric of her skirt aside to place more of the fish in an empty space, ignoring the way his eyes studied her, making her feel as though he somehow sensed the torment in her soul.
She needed her son in her life, and this magnetic man was her biggest obstacle.
God, please help me.
He took a deep breath, let it out and answered, “I’ve wanted to adopt Jerry for three years now, ever since I saw his story on the news.”
Lindy’s pulse accelerated so quickly she could feel her blood pushing in her veins, but she managed to hang onto the sponge fish and quietly asked, “His story on the news?”
“You may have seen it—” he shrugged “—or not. I made a point to watch for it each night after I heard about what happened. He was just over a year old and had been abused. I couldn’t stand the thought of a child being hurt, beaten by his father.”
“Bless his heart.” Though anyone would make the same statement, no one would mean the words as much as Lindy. She hated that Jerry had been hurt, and she’d done her best to stop it.
She just hadn’t been strong enough.
“I decided that I wanted to take care of him, to adopt him. I wanted to be the kind of father to him that he never had.” He lifted a shoulder. “I missed him this weekend. I just met him, and I missed him already. Hard to believe, huh?”
“Yes.” Did she believe him?
“I went back to Birmingham for the weekend,” he said.
“So you aren’t staying in Claremont?” If he was driving back and forth from Birmingham, a two-hour drive each way, he’d have less time to spend with Jerry.
“Oh, no, I’m staying here for the summer.” He scooted backward to rest against the wall, settling in as though he planned to chat a while. “I just had to go get my things from my house.”
Lindy pushed her back teeth together to fight the urge to frown. He wasn’t driving back and forth each day. And he owned a house. A place where Jerry could live that probably had a neighborhood filled with potential friends, a big backyard where he could play and maybe even keep a puppy, and was undoubtedly located in a good school zone.
The kind of place she’d always wanted to live with her son.
She, on the other hand, was staying rent-free in a small room above the sporting goods store. Free, until you get on your feet, Mrs. Bowers had said.
How long would that take? And would the court believe she could ever get on her feet? Would anyone trust her to take care of her son?
The first attorney she’d contacted after being released had homed in on the fact that would hurt her the most in court. Regardless of whether or not she abused Jerry, she hadn’t stopped Gil or reported him to the authorities. Lindy knew she should have, but she also knew that he would have killed her if she did.
Then who would’ve protected Jerry?
That attorney had turned her case down, but the one from this morning had sounded as though he was considering representing her.
Ethan shifted his large frame against the wall, and Lindy found her attention focusing on his broad shoulders, the hard plates of his chest, visible in spite of his shirt, and biceps that didn’t appear to have come from merely lifting papers in a classroom.
More goose bumps traipsed across her skin. She was so easily captivated by this beautiful man.
“I hadn’t planned on staying here for the summer,” he admitted, while Lindy tried to focus more on his words and less on his appearance. “I actually thought I could pick Jerry up last week, take him home and foster him until the adoption finalized. I went through the ten weeks of fostering certification classes and everything, but then the social worker and the state decided I should spend more time with him first, so he doesn’t end up going through another placement that doesn’t work out.”
She was glad she’d been focusing on his words; she hadn’t heard anything about a prior placement for her son. “What do you mean, another placement that doesn’t work out?” She knew very little about what had happened to her baby over the past three years, but this hint at Jerry’s past didn’t sit well with her. What had happened to him?
“The previous family decided they didn’t want him.” Ethan shook his head. “Gotta tell you, it’d probably be a very good thing if I never meet that couple who’d decided not to keep him.”
Lindy’s stomach instantly churning, she turned to face him as he tucked more fish in and around the blue water. “Why didn’t they want Jerry?” She’d assumed he’d always been in homes like Willow’s Haven. Of course, Lindy had only learned bits and pieces about Jerry’s location from the state social worker who’d had pity on her after she’d been released from Tutwiler Prison. She’d had to put the woman’s cryptic clues together to even find out where the state had placed him. But she’d found him. And now she had to figure out how to get him back in her life permanently.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” The concern in his tone sounded sincere. “Apparently, he wasn’t as social as they’d have liked, and he cried too much.” In his left hand was a fish, and Lindy watched as his right one curled into a fist.
Was he like Gil?
“I don’t have any sympathy for people like that, turning their backs on a child because of what he’s been through, as if he could control his past. Kids need someone they can count on.”
Lindy swallowed. “Yes, they do.” And Jerry could count on her. He could. If only a court would agree.
Ethan leaned a few fish against the corner. “I couldn’t wait to get back to Claremont and see Jerry this morning. I think that’s why I showed up so early.” He grinned. “And to help a lady in need with her window display.”
“I don’t need anything,” Lindy said quickly. Too quickly, from the way his eyebrows inched up and his mouth flattened. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I could’ve handled it, but I appreciate the help.”
A lie. An outright lie. But it was out there, and Ethan didn’t look as suspicious, so she let it stand.
Sorry, God. I’m out of my element here, and I’m clearly slipping.
A tap on the window caused both of them to turn toward a little redheaded, freckle-faced boy who was waving, while his mother stood behind him, also waving at the pair in the window. Lindy held up a hand, and Ethan did, as well. Then the two passed by the store and headed toward an old-fashioned barber shop, complete with a red-and-white-striped pole by the entrance.
“Maybe I’ll take Jerry there for a haircut one day, since we’ll be in Claremont for the summer. That’ll be some good father-son bonding, too.” He picked up a green fish and held it toward Lindy as he spoke. “I sure hadn’t planned on spending the summer fishing. Don’t know the first thing about it.” He shrugged slightly and gave an easy grin. “But it’ll be fun learning with my little man.”
His references to her son bothered her immensely, but she did her best to hide the emotion and prayed again that Ted Murrell would take her case, in spite of her inability to pay him anytime in the near future.
A group of children darted across the grass in front of the fountain, and Lindy leaned toward the window. “Is that them?” she whispered anxiously, then felt more anxious being in closer proximity to the man beside her. She cleared her throat and scooted back, glad that he didn’t seem to notice.
The cluster of six or seven kids entered the Tiny Tots Treasure Box, the toy store on the opposite side of the square.
Ethan checked his watch. “We still have twenty minutes until eleven, but I’m anxious to see them, too. Really looking forward to spending time with Jerry again.”
“I saw him yesterday.” She wasn’t sure why she divulged the information, but she’d started now, so she’d finish. “At church. I went to church with Mr. and Mrs. Bowers, and all of the Willow’s Haven kids came together.”
He put the fish against the window and nodded. “Candace mentioned that they all go to Claremont Community Church, and I plan to attend, as well. I couldn’t yesterday, of course, since I was in Birmingham. How did he seem? Did you get a chance to talk to him? I thought he started coming out of his shell a little on Friday.”
His concern seemed so genuine that Lindy was momentarily taken aback. Did he already care about Jerry? Really care?
But then she remembered the doting-father act that Gil put on in public.
“I didn’t get to talk to him.” The words hurt, because she’d hoped to communicate with her little boy, but the Willow’s Haven children all sat together, and Mr. and Mrs. Bowers had kept her busy meeting all of their friends after the service until the bus filled with children had returned to the home.
“Right. I’m sure there were a lot of people at the service. Not sure why I thought you would have talked to my little man.”
The “my little man” thing hurt, but she didn’t want him to think she didn’t care about Jerry. “I would have, but I didn’t get the chance.”
“Well, we’ll both see him—and all of the other kids from Willow’s Haven—soon, won’t we?”
Soon? She’d been counting the minutes. “Yes, we will.”
Scanning the display, he asked, “Do you have fishing rods that go with these practice fish? Maybe we could put a few against the sides so the kids can see them.”
Lindy had been so wrapped up in thoughts about her son and trying to avoid the effect Ethan Green had on her senses that she nearly forgot why they were sitting in the store window. “We have several boxes in the back. I’ll go get one.”
He held up a palm. “Let me. You have a lapful of fish.” He pointed to her fish-covered skirt and then moved the curtain aside to exit the display area.
Lindy hadn’t realized what she’d done, but she’d been so determined not to accidentally touch him again that she’d grabbed an abundance of fish from the box, rather than risk slipping her hand inside...and finding his.
God, I’m struggling here. I need Your help. She thought of her little boy, placed in a home where he wasn’t happy and where the parents didn’t soothe him when he cried. And please help Jerry to be okay. And let me help him, Lord. Let me have him in my life again. I need him. I need him so very much.
“Found them.” Ethan entered the display area holding one of the boxes filled with child-sized rods and reels. But with the box of fish already centering the display, there was hardly room for the man and the additional props.
“Maybe I should put them out on my own. It’s getting a little crowded.” Lindy reached for the box of fish so she could move it toward her, and her hands met the cardboard edge at the same moment as his. But this time, his palms covered hers, and when she jerked her attention to his face, he looked at her as though wondering just how badly she wanted to remove them.
* * *
Ethan had been trained to spot children who had been abused. In fact, he’d been required to view an extensive video series on the subject that had made him extremely uncomfortable. However, he had been able to spot the signs more clearly after learning what to look for.
But even though his training had been geared toward abused children, he didn’t miss the signs in adults, as well. And he knew without a doubt that Lindy Burnett, at some point in her life, had been abused.
“Lindy, are you okay?” He asked the question as softly as possible, in the same tone he’d use with one of his students, because the beautiful woman across from him, her strawberry hair tumbling forward and those vivid blue eyes filled with an agony that couldn’t be disguised, seemed more fragile than any student he’d ever approached with questions of abuse. And Ethan realized that he hadn’t merely missed Jerry this weekend; he’d missed this intriguing woman, too.
In fact, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t also shown up early because he knew she’d be here in the store, and that he might have a chance to spend time with her, like this. But there was something troubling the gorgeous lady, and in spite of knowing he shouldn’t get too close, Ethan wanted—needed—to help.
She blinked, cleared her throat, and then slowly slid her hands from beneath his. “I’m fine.” She made a sound like a combination of a cough and a hiccup, then repeated herself. “I am fine.” She looked away to place more fish on the opposite side, or to hide her face so he couldn’t see too much, with those long, strawberry tendrils tumbling forward.
He knew he shouldn’t be so concerned with this striking lady. Past experience had taught him that the more he cared, the more he’d get hurt when yet another woman in his life let him down. But she seemed so very broken. And Ethan couldn’t ignore the need to help someone who’d clearly been abused.
She wasn’t fine; he was certain of that. But he was equally certain that she wouldn’t discuss it with him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
And he hadn’t come to Claremont to determine what was wrong with this troubled woman. He was here for Jerry. Even so, it was all he could do not to reach forward, push those long strawberry curls out of the way so he could attempt to see what she was trying so desperately to hide.
He swallowed, knowing he shouldn’t push. “Okay, then.” Picking up a green fishing rod, he grabbed a yellow fish from the box. Determined to think about his future son instead of the enthralling lady beside him, he threaded the fishing line through the tiny hole in the fish’s mouth. “Might as well get some of these ready to go.” He knotted the line in place. “Maybe Jerry will want this one.”
She jerked her head up to answer, tossing those curls over her shoulder which made her look even more appealing. “He’ll want a red one.”
Ethan laughed, glad that she hadn’t shut herself out of conversation with him completely and also bemused by her statement. What would make her think he’d want red? “You sound so sure of that.”
“I...” She paused, her eyes wide, as though she wasn’t certain what to say. Then she added, “I think little boys like red.”
He shrugged. “Actually, red is my favorite color. Maybe it’ll be his, too.” He started to reach for the red fishing rod, but then his phone rang in his pocket. Withdrawing the cell, he glanced at the display. “It’s Candace, the social worker.” He held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”
Lindy nodded as Ethan made his way out of the display area. “Hi, Candace. I didn’t expect to hear from you today.”
“Ethan.” He heard her regretful tone.
“Did something happen? Is everything okay with Jerry?”
“Listen, I don’t want this to disappoint you, or in any way change your mind about your desire to adopt Jerry, but I have some news. And, well, it really shouldn’t affect anything, because I feel certain that the state will uphold the parental rights termination. Terminated means terminated, after all. At least as far as the social workers are concerned.”
His chest tightened. She was talking about the little boy he’d missed all weekend, the little boy he wanted so badly that it hurt. “What is it, Candace?”
“It’s Jerry’s mother, Melinda Sue Flinn. There were some—” she paused “—new developments in her case.”
“New developments?” he asked, his mind reeling. How could that be? “She was tried and found guilty of murdering her husband. Her rights were terminated. And I am adopting her son soon. What kind of new developments? Tell me the court didn’t change the termination of rights.”
“No, that didn’t change, and I’m totally under the impression that it won’t. I have no reservations in saying that she shouldn’t ever get her rights back. She didn’t protect Jerry, and I will gladly testify to that in court if I need to.”
“Then what changed?” Ethan couldn’t imagine what would classify as a new development when a wife had been tried by a jury and found guilty of murdering her husband. She’d been sentenced to time in Tutwiler Prison. “Candace, I need to know. What happened?”
“Ethan, her conviction was overturned. She was released last week. Melinda Sue Flinn is free, and—” she hesitated “—she wants her son back.”
Chapter Four (#ubf17a766-3d5e-5513-a423-67f7de17765a)
Lindy listened as Ethan’s voice lowered, and his shock escalated.
“What do you mean, she’s free?” He’d obviously taken a few steps away from the window display, but because he was the sole customer in the store and because Lindy strained her ears to hear, she didn’t miss a whispered word. “She was tried and found guilty of murder, Candace. Sentenced to Tutwiler for life. How could the state release her now?”
A cold, bitter frisson shimmied down Lindy’s spine at the mere mention of that horrid place, as did a trickle of fear that Ethan could be very close to finding out who she was. Surely the social worker hadn’t figured that out.
“A confession? What kind of confession?” He sounded almost as shocked as she had been when she heard the unexpected news, that her best friend had stabbed her in the back to save her own husband, Gil’s former business partner. Marsha’s testimony about the abuse, as well as how Lindy had confided that she had to get out of the marriage one way or another, had convinced the jury she was guilty. But Marsha had lied. And no one, not even Lindy, had suspected that Paul had murdered the man who had once been his best friend.
Lindy forced her hands to keep moving, situating the fishing rods, placing the fish, anything to control the urge to bolt from the store, find Jerry and take him as far away from Claremont—and Ethan Green—as possible.
But where would they go? And how long would she last with no money and no one to help them? Besides, she didn’t want to run from the law; she never had.
She simply wanted her son.
Ethan’s thick exhalation echoed beyond the fabric barrier forming the back of the display. “No, I understand. I was just caught off guard.” A pregnant pause caused Lindy’s palms to sweat while she wondered what Candace said on the other end. She brushed her hands against the soft fabric of her skirt and took a deep, calming breath.
Don’t panic. Surely they haven’t matched Lindy Burnett to Melinda Sue Flinn. She closed her eyes. Not yet. Please, God, not yet.
“Why do you think this won’t affect the adoption?” His voice, a bit softer now, seemed farther away.
Lindy glanced down at her soft watercolor skirt, the blues and mints and pinks that had caught her eye when they were displayed in the window of Consigning Women making her nauseous now. And she saw that she’d bunched the pretty fabric within her palms and formed a few noticeable wrinkles. But she didn’t care—her focus was on Ethan’s conversation that could very well change her life.
The boiled egg and buttered toast she’d eaten for breakfast threatened to make a hasty exit as he expressed her deepest fears.

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