Adopted Son by Linda Warren Page A

disturbed Grace.
    “Maybe some. We keep a very loose diaper on him to prevent any pain we can. And we keep the sores medicated and we change his diaper frequently. Brady’s been through a traumatic experience, but he has a real friend in Ranger Tucker. Tuck is here first thing in the mornings. He comes on his lunch hour and he comes after work and stays to put Brady to bed.”
    Grace noticed she called him Tuck. How close were they?
    “They said your clients were here this morning,” Jennifer went on. “But I haven’t seen them tonight.”
    Grace slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you for letting me see Brady. I appreciate it.”
    “As you can tell, I’m partial to Tuck and I will be testifying for him.”
    “Yes. I can see that. Good night, Jennifer.” Grace quickly walked away before she smacked Jennifer with her purse. She wasn’t a violent person, but she was suddenly filled with a desire to pull Jennifer’s hair out by the roots.
    She needed chocolate, the more the better.
    Rounding a corner, she spotted a vending machine. Digging in her purse, she found her wallet and pulled out a dollar. She inserted it into the slot and made her choice. Oreo cookies, for sure.
    The machine took her money and gave her nothing. Damn. She beat on the glass with her fist. Nothing. She pulled off her shoe and gave it a good whack. The machine groaned and spit out three bags of Oreo cookies.
    She sank to the floor, leaning against the machine. Did she just hit the machine with her shoe? Her expensive shoe? She examined the leather and discovered the shoe was fine.
    And so was she.
    Letting down her hair had released a new Grace. She was sitting on the floor, probably a dirty floor. Still she made no effort to get up. She was taking tiny baby steps, even though they seemed gigantic to her. But they were steps she was willing to take, needed to take.
    Ripping open one bag, she removed a cookie and twisted off the top, licking the icing in the middle. When she and Caroline were kids they had perfected a routine of eating an Oreo and dunking it in milk. Sometimes they’d race to see who could eat a cookie the fastest. Caroline always won because she wasn’t afraid to get milk all over her. Grace ate fastidiously, not wanting to get crumbs or milk on her clothes.
    Even at that age, she was repressed.
    What had made her that way?
    Her thoughts went back to her childhood. When Grace was born, Stephen Whitten had wanted a son. From as early as Grace could remember, her father had said, “You’re my son, Grace. I know you’ll make me proud.”
    And she had tried to be that son in every way that counted. She excelled in school and she didn’t rebel or get in trouble like Caroline. Her father didn’t like it when Caroline got dirty, so Grace stayed extremely clean and neat. Caroline’s room was a disaster area. Grace’s was immaculate.
    Although Caroline rebelled at times, she still tried to fit the mold her father had planned for his girls. Caroline got her law degree, but after a year in the Whitten Firm she bolted for freedom. She pursued her love of photography and was now a great photographer. Their father was not pleased, but Caroline stuck by her decision.
    On the other hand, Grace had become the chosen daughter, the good daughter. She’d told Caroline many times that she was happy in her career. Lately that wasn’t true. So much of her life was based on material profits, gains and wealth.
    But at what price to her personal well-being?
    She thought of the lady asleep by her sick child in Brady’s ward. Grace wondered if she slept there every night. Did she ever leave her child? Grace pulled up her knees, munching on an Oreo. Real love. That’s what life was all about—being there for another person no matter what.
    Grace wanted that—to experience a love that strong.
    She heard a noise and glanced up to see Jeremiah staring down at her.

CHAPTER SIX
     
    T UCK TURNED THE CORNER and stopped dead in