Ready-Made Family. Cheryl Wyatt

bed opposite of where Reece snuggled in a recliner asleep. “You remember me from before? I wondered, because you were pretty out of it that first day.”

      She eyed Harker as if undecided whether the woman was friend or foe. “I remember bits and pieces.” She nailed Harker’s gaze head on. “You gonna try to take my baby away?”

      Harker’s hand settled on Amelia’s. “I lost a baby to a forced adoption at age fifteen that has haunted me just as long. Now, you tell me, do you think I hold even a remote interest in ripping a child from a capable mother’s arms?”

      A tense silence stretched between them. Amelia didn’t speak.

      “I am interested, however, in helping you get on your feet. I am a social worker of sorts. I have access to resources you may not be able to tap into on your own. That is my interest.”

      “That’s it? No other motivation?”

      “That’s it. No other motivation other than to help you. So you can better care for Reece and have a more stable future for the both of you. Your parents certainly don’t seem to have an interest in helping at the moment.” A look Ben interpreted as annoyance drew Harker’s sculpted eyebrows down.