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payments be a problem?”

      “Shouldn’t. You can phone the billing department tomorrow during business hours and make arrangements.”

      After the nurse left, Ben tugged out his cell phone and offered it to Amelia. “Here, use this if you want.”

      She stared at it as if he’d presented a scorpion.

      He flipped open the phone. “Dial, then press that green button to talk. Red hangs up. I have unlimited minutes. No sense paying for calls when you can use my phone for free.”

      The fight grew evident in her face as she eyed his phone then the one by her bed. He wished he could tell her he knew how hard it was to be the one needing help. But he wanted to spare her dignity and protect Reece from understanding the gravity of the dire situation she and her mom were in.

      He set the phone on the table. “I’ve got to meet someone and grab a bite to eat. I’ll be back tomorrow morning if that’s okay. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

      Her eyes fluttered with apprehension. So vulnerable.

      Maybe if he wasn’t present, she’d feel better about using the phone. Besides, he needed, wanted to spend time with Hutton.

      He handed her a note card with his alternate phone number, the Refuge Police Department’s number and the number of the lone car garage in Refuge scribbled on it. “Here, in case you need to reach me, Refuge PD and the garage to check on your car. I pulled strings with law enforcement to get it worked on until you can prove ownership and get it out of impoundment.”

      Looking overwhelmed, she took the card. “How can I prove it’s mine? I don’t have a title. I bought it from my parents.”

      “Then they’ll have to fax a title and vouch for you.”

      Though her eyebrows drew together into a discouraged frown, a determined glint entered her eyes. “Thank you.”

      Ben waved goodbye to Amelia, Reece and Bearby, then slipped out, leaving the phone without a backward glance. It was his personal cell anyway. He had his military phone on him. He’d call Joel, talk to Hutton. See where they planned to meet and buy them some grub.

      He figured Amelia would find a way to be gone one blink after her doctor said the words, whether her car was ready or not. He’d do his best to be here before then. He at least wanted to say goodbye. At best, do more to help, which is what he intended to talk with her about.

      At the door, Ben peered over his shoulder and found Amelia staring with half apprehension, half hope.

      Trapped in the moment, his mind scrambled for words. “If you need anything before tomorrow, feel free to call.”

      Even if she were still here in the morning, would she let him help? He might have a fight on his hands. So be it. One thing he loved more than skydiving was chasing a challenge.

      And something told him Amelia North fit the bill.

      Chapter Four

      Amelia wanted to crawl under the covers and die. Well, not die, exactly. Just disappear for a good five minutes. She hated handouts. Hated to be the one burdening people. But the guy was right. No need spending money she didn’t have just because pride trumped common sense.

      Speaking of common sense, what kind of crazy guy would leave his phone with a complete stranger? Definitely, this Ben character was cut from a different mold than any other guy she’d encountered.

      And what on earth did he want to talk to her about tomorrow? Multiple scenarios hulked through her head, all confrontational. Dread settled in for what he would say when he saw her next. Probably found something else to scold her about.

      Well, she could escape and evade all that if she could get out of here and get to her job.

      Ugh! But then there was the problem of the doctor wanting her to follow up days after releasing her. If she went against medical advice, that would not only be unsafe healthwise, but an insurance company might decline her as a client once she got caught up enough to afford premiums for her and Reece.

      Dialing Refuge’s police department, Amelia asked what she would need to verify ownership of the car. They repeated the information Ben told her and stated they’d given her the benefit of the doubt and towed it to the local garage.

      Towed. That meant it wasn’t drivable.

      Amelia shook off discouragement and phoned the garage. No answer. She tried again. No answer. Maybe they weren’t open on Sunday. Then how could police have dropped the car off?

      She called a third time. After ten rings, a garbled answering machine sputtered on. She left a message after the closest thing resembling a beep. That no one answered, and that the garage answering machine sounded like it needed transmission fluid—or worse, a complete overhaul—didn’t make her feel good.

      A knock at the door broke into her thoughts. “Hello, Miss North. It’s Doc Callahan. You decent?”

      According to her dad, that was debatable. She adjusted her blankets. “Yes. Please come in.” And let me outta here!

      The room curtain parted and he entered. “Nurse Bailey notified me that you’d awakened.”

      Ben’s phone rang. A number appeared on the face. “Excuse me a minute. That’s the car garage.”

      He nodded and flipped through her chart.

      Amelia pushed the button Ben showed her to answer. “Hello?”

      “Thiz Eagle’s Nest Vay-hicle Repair-a-returnin’ yer call.”

      “Yes, I own the car that police escorted there after it was assaulted by a light pole today.”

      A hearty chuckle crossed the line. “Yessum. She’s here. Perty banged up though.”

      “When do you anticipate it being ready to go?”

      Amelia’s gut clenched at the ensuing silence. Then weird chomping came across the line. Then a belch and more silence.

      “We-ell. I don’t rightly know if she’ll ever be ready to go. If there’s a possibilty of ’er a pullin’ through a tall, I’d say yer lookin’ at two weeks…minimum.”

      Maybe deep breaths would calm her racing heart and make it stop doing gymnastics in her chest. The feeling made her lightheaded again. And nauseous. She eyed her IV, hoping it would hurry and right her…whatever-those-things-were-called. “Then I’d best let you go so you can work on it.” A little nudging couldn’t hurt, right?

      Another chuckle. “I don’t work on Sundies,” the hillbilly-sounding mechanic said. “Check back’n a day or two or three when I’ll know more.”

      “Thank you.” Heavyhearted and light-headed, Amelia hung up and faced the doctor.

      He motioned to Reece, asleep in the recliner. “She down for the night?”

      “Yes. Nurse Bailey brought blankets and pillows. When it’s bedtime, she’ll sleep anywhere. I can’t count how many times I’ve intercepted her face heading for a dinner plate.”

      He chuckled, then his smile straightened as he pulled up a wooden chair and sat beside her bed. Uh-oh. Here it comes.

      “Speaking of food, Miss North—”

      “Please, call me Amelia.”

      “Okay, Amelia. Can we talk candidly a moment?”

      She nodded. At least he didn’t start out yelling. Still, tears sprang to her eyes. “Look, before you say anything, I know I’ve done wrong.” She sniffed, hating that she couldn’t make herself not cry. “I also know as a doctor you have to discuss this with me. But I want you to know up front I’m not anorexic.”

      He nodded. “I believe you. Your lab work and medical examinations don’t show signs of long-term starvation.

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