Finally a Mother Page 4

  “We’ve met.” Shannon shook Trooper Davison’s hand.

  He studied her for a few seconds and then nodded. “I remember. A suspect was harassing one of the girls. A real Dad-of-the-Year. But Trooper Shoffner here will have a better story about his visit to Hope Haven.”

  Mark frowned as his fellow officer patted him on the back. “Have I mentioned that Mr. Wilson believes Miss Lyndon is his birth mother or that Miss Lyndon does not dispute the claim?”

  “What?” Trooper Davison asked.

  “Excuse me?” Trooper Vincent chimed.

  The officers looked from Mark to Shannon and back to Mark again.

  The female officer pressed her hands together. “Clearly we don’t have the whole story, so we’ll let you get back to it.” Already, she started backing away from the door, with the other trooper copying her exit.

  “Is there a problem in here?”

  Another uniformed officer stood just outside the doorway, blocking their exit in the already cramped space. He had eyeglasses and a boyish face that made him look like a teenager, but from the way the three other officers straightened at his appearance, he was in charge.

  “No, Lieutenant.” His jaw tightening, Trooper Shoffner shot an annoyed look at his fellow troopers and then gestured to his superior officer. “Everyone, please meet Lt. Matt Dawson.”

  He made another round of introductions and gestured toward the other troopers. “They were just leaving.”

  “Uh, he’s right,” Trooper Davison said. “We have to get back out on patrol.”

  Lt. Dawson nodded. “I’m sure the residents of Michigan will appreciate your diligence.”

  Once they had disappeared down the hall, the lieutenant turned back to Mark. “I assume you have this under control, Trooper Shoffner?”

  “Yes, sir.” But as soon as the officer stepped away, Mark pursed his lips, and his hand thudded on the desktop. “That went well. New guy perks.”

  Something was going on with Trooper Shoffner at work, but she had more important things than that to worry about right now. Out in the squad room, the state worker was still on her cell phone.

  “How do you think she’s doing?”

  “I’m sure she’ll find something soon.” Mark looked far less certain than his claim.

  “...and thanks so much for your time,” the woman said before ending the call.

  As the state caseworker reentered the interview room, Shannon held her breath. Something was squeezing her heart from the inside out. She’d felt pain like this only once before. The empty receiving blanket. The void in her arms. She’d just found Blake, and he was being taken away again. Would he be placed far away so she wouldn’t have the chance to get to know him? How could she earn his forgiveness if she couldn’t be near him?

  “I’ve been making some calls,” Miss Lafferty began, “but unfortunately, we’ve been unable to find a foster placement for Blake this morning—”

  “What about an emergency placement?” Mark asked.

  “I’ve tried that, too, but our numbers are really high right now, and with Thanksgiving just days away... Well, even our emergency homes are...unable to house him at this time.” As she sat in the only available chair, the woman’s gaze shifted to Blake, but then she looked away.

  Shannon’s pulse thudded in her ears. How dare they turn away her son? But her breath caught as another idea sprang into her thoughts, eclipsing the righteous anger in its wake. Was it possible? Could there be a chance?

  She took a deep breath, grasping for calm. “So you’re saying that Blake has no place to go?”

  The state worker shook her head. “Of course not. There’s a spot for him at the Community Children’s Center.”

  “You can’t take him there!”

  Even Shannon heard the shriek in her voice, so she didn’t try to convince herself that the others had missed it. Blake and the trooper shot questioning glances her way. The caseworker stared at her with wide eyes.

  “I mean, that’s not...er...the most appropriate placement for him.”

  “It would be a temporary placement, of course,” the social worker said with a sigh.

  Mark pushed back from the desk, gripping its edge with both hands. “Wait. Community Children’s Center is where we incarcerate teens, isn’t it?”

  Miss Lafferty nodded. “Yes, but it’s also an emergency placement location for teens who’ve been removed from their homes for various reasons.”

  “You put them together? In the same facility?”

  At Mark’s incredulous look, the woman blanched. “Well, the boys and girls are kept separate at all times, and—”

  “I mean, those serving juvenile sentences and the victims of abuse or neglect,” he pressed.

  Miss Lafferty opened her mouth as if to offer another explanation, but she clicked it shut. “It’s not a perfect solution. But sometimes it’s the only option we have to keep the children safe.”

  “Safe?”

  A hard edge had come into the officer’s voice, but Shannon had no time to debate the advisability of placing juvenile offenders with victims of neglect or abuse. Right now she had to protect her own child, the son she’d failed to shield before.

  “The center isn’t Blake’s only option.”

  The other two adults turned to stare at her.

  “Well, it isn’t.” No longer able to sit, Shannon sprang from her chair and paced toward the door. When she turned back, Miss Lafferty was shaking her head.

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying. Wait.” The woman stopped and studied her. “You’re not suggesting...”

  “Of course I am. I’m Blake’s mother...his biological mother. And I am a licensed social worker with a master’s in social work, so I could easily receive emergency foster parent certification. I could become his temporary guardian until I—”

  “Miss Lyndon,” the woman said to interrupt her. “I understand that this has been an emotional day for you and Mr. Wilson, but this...”

  Miss Lafferty offered one of those placating smiles that Shannon had used herself with parents enrolling their pregnant teens at Hope Haven. She promised herself never to smile at them that way again.

  “You haven’t thought this through. You work and live in a center for pregnant girls, not the most appropriate place for an adolescent boy.”

  “We have a few details to work out, but—”

  That annoying smile was enough to stop her. Shannon crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You have to know that it isn’t as easy as that,” Miss Lafferty continued. “There is no proof yet that Mr. Wilson is even your child.”

  “Of course he’s my son. I knew his name was Blake, and he had the letter, and he looks just like—”

  She stopped herself and jerked her head to see Blake glaring at her, accusation clear in his eyes. Yes, she had a lot to explain to him about his birth father, among other things, but if she didn’t fight right now, she might never have the chance.

  “I understand that you’re convinced, but the state will need more proof.” The woman cleared her throat. “Not to mention the courts.”

  The last had Shannon tearing her gaze away from her son. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Even if we can prove that Mr. Wilson is your biological child, then there’s that whole matter of your completing a voluntary release of parental rights. You don’t have any—”

  “I was fifteen years old!”

  “Why do you talk about me as if I’m not sitting right here?” Blake shouted.

  He came out of his seat, and although the trooper stood as well and stepped between them to stop the boy if he approached, Mark made no attempt to restrain him. Even he had to realize that Blake had every right to be angry.

  Blake pinned the state worker wit
h his stare. “You talk about me like I’m a piece of property.”

  He pointed at Shannon.

  “And you.” He paused, his jaw flexing as he gritted his teeth. “You didn’t want me then, and you don’t really want me now. You just feel guilty because you sent me to live with...them.”

  Her tears came instantly, and Shannon didn’t bother trying to stop them. “No. You’re wrong. I always wanted you. They just wouldn’t let—”

  “I don’t want your excuses.”

  “They’re not excuses. Please. Just let me explain.”

  “I don’t want to live with you. I don’t want anything to do with you!”

  A sob broke loose before Shannon could stop it. The world was crushing her with its unforgiving weight. She’d waited a lifetime to be reunited with Blake. She’d dreamed of it. Prayed for it. Now her chance to even get to know him was slipping away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Worse than even the prospect that he would be placed far away from her, if he was sent to the children’s center, he might spiral further into delinquency. Would he be lost to her forever?

  Miss Lafferty slowly stood. “Many details will have to be taken care of in the coming weeks. For now, I will put in another call to Community Children’s Center.”

  Mark turned to her. “There’s another option.”

  The woman pressed her lips together, losing her patience. “Trooper Shoffner, you called me in to assist here. It’s kind of you to be concerned, but this is a complicated situation, and you aren’t aware of all of the legalities in it. Now, please allow me to do my job.”

  “I said, there’s another option.”

  With a long-suffering sigh, the woman met his gaze. “And what might that be?”

  “The boy can stay with me.”

  Chapter Four

  What had he done? As Mark allowed the social worker to usher him and Shannon into the hall, he braced his hand on the door frame to steady his head. With six words that had surprised him as much as they had everyone else, he’d done a cannonball dive into a situation that should have been wrapped in crime-scene tape or marked with a sign that said Keep Out. Still, the more he considered his knee-jerk suggestion, the more it seemed like a perfect solution for everyone. Him included.

  “What was that all about?” Miss Lafferty said after she closed the door, shutting the interview room off from the squad room. She carried the thick, brown file under her arm like a football.

  “Yeah. What were you thinking, saying something like that?” Shannon’s eyes were almost as wide as they’d been earlier when Blake had shown up on her doorstep.

  “Now, hear me out.” But Mark didn’t rush to offer a profound explanation. He was figuring that out as he went. Because it was impossible to focus on anything with Shannon looking at him like that, he averted his gaze and spoke directly to the state worker.

  “Well...I’m a state trooper.” He swallowed. Now, that was stating the obvious. His gaze slid without his permission toward Shannon, who was shuffling her feet, but he redirected his attention to Miss Lafferty.

  “Anyway, I’ve already been through an extensive background check. I’ve been fingerprinted, too. An experienced professional like you, Miss Lafferty? You could get someone like me certified as an emergency placement foster parent with both hands tied behind your back.”

  The woman shook her head, his flattery failing to sway her. Shannon was probably doing the same thing behind him, but he wouldn’t allow himself to check. He pressed on, determined to convince them both. He was surprised by how important it had become to him to win the argument.

  “Divorced. No dependents. I live alone. I couldn’t have less complications for doing something like this.”

  “Except not having certification,” Miss Lafferty pointed out.

  “But you can make it happen. You know you can.”

  Again, she shook her head. “I’m not saying I can’t get it approved, Trooper Shoffner. But I have to know. Why do you want to do this?”

  Good question. Should he tell her that he was drawn to Blake, who reminded him so much of his former self, from the insolent slouch to that practiced smirk? Or he could admit that by becoming the boy’s temporary guardian he could prove once and for all that he’d left his own delinquent past behind. Both excuses were valid, and neither was as bad as confessing that he might have volunteered, at least in part, to play the hero for Blake’s desperate mother. That he couldn’t bear to admit.

  “Haven’t the system and the adults in this kid’s life failed him enough already?” So he’d sidestepped the question altogether. That he’d also deflected the attention back to Shannon only confirmed what a coward he was.

  This time he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her. She stiffened at his jab, but, to her credit, she continued to look right at him. She didn’t even point out that he’d dodged the question better than a politician would on the campaign trail.

  “Yes, the boy has had a tough time of it,” Miss Lafferty said. “Although I must tell you that some of his foster parents have been good ones.”

  “Some? But not all?” Shannon searched the other woman’s face, as if hoping for assurances that they all knew wouldn’t come.

  “Most. Not all.”

  Mark braced his hand on the doorjamb again, this time to hold his frustration in check. The kid deserved better than that. All kids deserved better.

  “Let’s face it. Blake has been bounced around the system for years. He’s the real victim in this mess. I don’t know about you, but I can’t turn my back on him.”

  “No one is suggesting that we do that,” Miss Lafferty said.

  “Sorry. That wasn’t fair.” Mark shook his head, taking hold of his emotions. “What I mean is if we can prevent the system from failing the boy again, then I think we should try. Even if it’s only for a while.”

  Shannon looked back and forth between the police officer and the state worker, her thoughts colliding in a barrage of pipe dreams and practicality, wishes and reality. She still couldn’t get over that Trooper Shoffner had offered to give Blake a home. Whether it was a good idea or not, she wasn’t sure. This was the same man who’d vacillated between looking at her like a defendant at sentencing and comforting her with words like You couldn’t have known. Between announcing that she’d failed Blake and offering him a home when she couldn’t.

  He had offered, though, which was more than most people would have done. Part of her resented his intrusion into their lives. But it was the other part that unnerved her. The one that was tempted to go beyond just being grateful that he’d offered. The one that was tempted to see him as her personal knight in state police blue or something. She couldn’t be thinking something like that. She’d learned the hard way never to put her trust in a guy, no matter how desperate she was.

  “You don’t have a lot of options,” Mark said, breaking the silence. “I know Blake doesn’t.”

  Shannon swallowed. She couldn’t allow this to be about her. It had to be about whatever was best for Blake. The police officer realized it, and he’d known nothing about her son two hours ago. As the person who’d been missing Blake all of his life, how could she have failed to recognize it?

  “Thank you,” she managed. She didn’t care how sour and frightening those words tasted in her mouth. She would do whatever was necessary to help her son.

  Miss Lafferty stared at the file in her hands for several seconds and then, as if she’d come to a decision, she looked up and nodded. “So tell me about the experience you’ve had working with troubled youth, Trooper Shoffner.”

  “None.”

  She had her pen poised to write, but she stopped and studied him. “Other children, then? With those of which ages have you had the most experience?”

  “Look. This will go faster if I tell you that I haven
’t worked with children. But I can figure it out.”

  “None?” Shannon couldn’t keep the squeak out of her voice. “Ever?” Before, she’d been annoyed by his meddling, and now she was worried that he wouldn’t get the chance.

  Miss Lafferty lifted a brow. “You’ve got to be—”

  “I may not have experience working with kids,” Mark said to interrupt her, “but I can relate to the boy in that room better than either of you can.”

  The state social worker lifted her chin and stared at him. “How is that?”

  Mark bent his head, blowing out a breath. “I was just like him.”

  “What do you mean?” Miss Lafferty asked. “A foster kid? An angry teen with a juvenile record?”

  “A runaway?” Shannon couldn’t help adding.

  “All of the above...except for the foster kid part.” At their questioning gazes, Mark held his hands wide. “Every family needs a black sheep. I was ours.”

  Although he chuckled as he said it, the shadow that passed over his face gave Shannon a glimpse at the pain behind his words. Something tightened inside her belly. She was painfully aware of how a person’s past could follow him, but she couldn’t let herself wonder how the trooper’s history played upon his present. She had enough trouble in her own life without prying into his.

  “Still, I worry that your lack of experience with troubled teens would make this too hard on you,” Miss Lafferty said.

  “I have that.”

  Only when the other adults turned to her did Shannon realize she’d said those words aloud.

  “Well, it’s true. I have plenty of experience with troubled teens. I could help him out. Offer some tips.”

  But Mark was already shaking his head. “Thanks. But I can handle it.”

  “Really. I can help. I have about twelve girls at Hope Haven at any given time.”

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  She crossed her arms. “I doubt that.”

  His jaw tightened, and he stared at her until she looked away. “You’ve known Blake for two hours, and now you’re an expert on him?”

  “I never said that. I only said I know about troubled kids.” Shannon pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying more, but this time she couldn’t stop the words from coming. “You can judge me all you want. Even without the whole story. But know this. I have loved my son every minute of every hour of his life, whether he was with me or not.” Though her eyes burned, she refused to cry again. “I had planned to find him when he turned eighteen. Whether he realizes it or not, he needs me.”