Adopted Son. Linda Warren

Adopted Son - Linda  Warren


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and having children of your own? Your adoptive parents were married. I’m not clear on why they didn’t have kids of their own, though.”

      “Ma had a miscarriage early in the marriage and the doctor couldn’t stop the bleeding. He ended up doing a total hysterectomy.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

      “She worked in an office for a while then Pa was asked by the FBI to help nail a firearms dealer from Mexico. When they captured the guy in El Paso, he had his five-year-old daughter with him. He’d kidnapped her from her mother in South Carolina. Pa said the little thing was frightened to death and he became attached to her. He talked CPS into letting him take her home to Ma where he knew she would get special care. Ma kept her for three days comforting her and letting her know she was safe. The mother was so grateful to have her daughter back. Ma said after that she knew what she wanted to do and they helped hundreds of kids over the years, including Eli and me.”

      “I’ve heard the stories.” Beau leaned forward. “But I still don’t understand completely why, to you, taking in foster kids is exclusive of marriage and having your own kids.”

      “The marriage thing just hasn’t worked out for me.” Tuck twisted his empty beer bottle, knowing he had to share parts of his life for Beau to understand him. “Have you ever seen a two-year-old who’s been hit so hard that his jaw broke into four pieces and punctured his eardrum?”

      Beau shook his head.

      “Have you ever seen a four-year-old who’s had a pot of boiling water poured over him because he wouldn’t mind?”

      Beau winced and shook his head again.

      “Have you ever seen a six-month-old baby girl malnourished and with cigarette burns all over her body?”

      Beau held up a hand. “Stop. You’re going somewhere with this, so please just get there.”

      “Those three cases are vivid in my memory. When the grandmother in Arkansas was finally awarded full custody of the six-month-old, she didn’t even resemble the battered baby that had come to live with us. Ma rocked and sang to her and doctored her burns. Eli and I did, too. She was a laughing, happy child and we were sad to see her go. But there are so many kids like that, Beau. The violence and abuse never stops. I just would feel selfish bringing more children into the world when there are so many who need someone.”

      Tuck looked at his friend. “I’ve had these goals of taking in foster children ever since I witnessed how one person can change a life. Ma and Pa did it every day. I learned everything about life from them. I feel its something I have to do. I feel it’s something I need to do.” With his thumb, he peeled the label off the beer bottle. “I like being with a woman just as much as the next guy, but I haven’t found anyone to change my mind—or anyone to share my goals. Eli says it’s a mind-set because of the circumstances of my birth, but it’s much more than that.”

      Beau eyed him with a strange look on his face. “You feel very deeply about this.”

      “Yes. Brady needs someone and I can be that someone.”

      “You’re a better man than me. I don’t think I could give up so much.”

      Tuck shrugged. “I’m different. I guess I’ve always known that.”

      “And you wish your friends would stop trying to change you.”

      “No. I know they care about me and I need that, too.”

      “Well, Tuck, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re granted custody of Brady Harper.”

      “Thanks, Beau. I’d appreciate that.”

      “And I sincerely hope that one day you find a woman to share your incredibly selfless dream.”

      Tuck grinned. “Ah, a romantic.”

      “You bet,” Beau said. “I just want you to be happy.”

      “Helping Brady would make me happy.”

      Beau patted his shirt pocket, searching for a pen. “Do you have the caseworker’s name? I’d like to find out all I can about Brady—to make our case as strong as possible.”

      Tuck handed him a pen and gave him the information. They walked out together. “I’m really happy about the baby, Beau. Give Macy my congratulations.”

      “I will and thanks.” They shook hands and hugged briefly. “You’re a rare man, Jeremiah Tucker, and I’m proud you’re my friend. I’ll call as soon as I have any info.”

      Tuck swallowed back emotions as he slid into his vehicle. He sat for a moment savoring that bond of friendship. Backing out, he reached for his phone and called Sergeant Scofield. He wanted to go by the trailer and look for the stuffed dog so Brady could have it when he woke up. The sergeant gave permission and Tuck went by the station for a key.

      Darkness had fallen by the time Tuck arrived at Brady’s so-called home. He saw the yellow police tape that surrounded the trailer. Getting out, he noticed the dogs were gone but the vans were still parked in the yard. There was an eerie quiet about the place.

      He went up the steps and unlocked the door. As he flipped a switch, a light came on. Good. The electricity hadn’t been turned off yet. A distasteful odor greeted him. It was indescribable. Death came to mind. He shook off the feeling, glancing around.

      Clothes, trash, junk and broken dishes cluttered the floor. He kicked some of the mess out of the way and walked to the spot where he’d found Brady. The toy was lying in the place Brady had sat. Tuck hadn’t even noticed it before.

      Picking up the stuffed dog, he saw it was filthy, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Brady had the toy when he woke up. Tuck locked the trailer and drove to the hospital. It was late, but he went anyway.

      Outside the ward, a nurse stopped him. “I’m sorry. Visiting hours are over.”

      He introduced himself and explained about the stuffed animal. “His grandmother said he takes it everywhere and even sleeps with it. Brady will probably be less upset when he wakes up if he has the dog.” He showed her the toy. “It’s filthy, but I’m not too sure if it can be washed or not.”

      She eyed him for a second then took the dog. “Usually all stuffed animals can be washed. We have a washer and dryer here so I’ll wash it and Brady will have it by morning.”

      Tuck hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but nurses had a lot to do and she might forget.

      “Don’t trust me, huh?”

      Tuck looked into her honey-brown eyes and realized she was flirting with him. She was attractive, with short brown hair and a slim figure, but tonight he wasn’t interested.

      “By the way, my name is Jennifer.”

      “It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer.” He motioned to the toy in her hand. “I just want Brady to have the dog.”

      “He will, Ranger Tucker. I promise.”

      “Good. I’ll be back in the morning.”

      “I’m looking forward to it.”

      Tuck nodded and walked off wondering if he was losing it. A beautiful woman, a willing smile and he didn’t act on it. What was he looking for? He suddenly saw green eyes and an uptight expression.

      Grace.

      Why couldn’t he get the woman out of his head?

      THE NEXT MORNING Tuck was at the hospital early. Opal was at the nurses’ station so he slipped in to see Brady. He was still lying on his stomach, but in a different direction and he had on a diaper and a gown. The dog, all clean, was tucked under his arm.

      He stood there staring at this little boy whose life might become a part of his own. Suddenly he wanted that more than anything—to love him, to make sure he never went hungry


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