Child Wanted

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.