Читать книгу: «Ben's Bundle of Joy»

Chapter One

Deep within the still, peaceful confines of the old church, he thought he heard a baby’s soft cry. Glancing up, Reverend Ben Hunter decided he must be imagining things. He was alone in the church, alone with the brilliance of stained-glass windows on a crisp, sunny October morning, alone with his own unvoiced thoughts and unanswered prayers. It was too early in the day and way too quiet for any of his overly protective members to be paying a visit to the sanctuary of The Old First Church of Fairweather, Minnesota.

At least he hoped so.

Ben liked being alone. Not that he minded having to deal with his congregation and their joys and concerns on a daily basis, but he craved the peace and solitude of his private early-morning devotionals here in the church that he’d called home for the past three years. But was this really his home? Would it ever be?

He didn’t get a chance to ponder that particular prayer request. The cry came again, this time impatient and almost angry, but still soft, like the mewling of a kitten.

Lifting his athletic frame off the aged pine pew in the middle of the small church, Ben shook his head as he followed the sound toward the back. “Not another kitten. Emma, Emma, when will you stop trying to push pets off on me?”

He knew the church secretary, Emma Fulton, meant well. Emma was a social butterfly. She liked being the center of attention, and she liked having people and pets around all the time. So, naturally she thought Ben needed the same in his life—for companionship. Which meant she was constantly trying to fix him up with either blind dates or abandoned animals. Ben didn’t know which was worse—the setups never panned out because he usually never heard from the ladies again, and because he couldn’t turn the animals away, he was slowly collecting a small zoo. At least the animals took a liking to him, even if none of the single women in town did.

“I can’t take any more strays, Emma,” he said, his voice echoing over the cream-colored walls and vaulted, beamed ceiling of the antique church. He half expected the plump secretary to jump out from behind a pew, singing one of her favorite hymns. As he reached the back of the church, though, Ben stopped and stared into the sturdy cardboard box someone had left on the pew. This was no ordinary stray.

This one was human. A baby. A tiny newborn baby lay kicking and whining in the box, mounds of blankets encasing the ruddy little body.

“Well, hello there,” Ben said, glancing around to see if anyone would come out and lay claim to the infant. “How did you get here, little one?”

This time the baby’s cry grew louder, more demanding. Not sure what to do, Ben reached down and lifted the infant out of the box, careful to keep it wrapped in the protective blue blankets someone had left with it. As Ben lifted the child, a note fluttered out from the folds of the blanket.

Sweeping a hand down to catch the note, Ben held tight to the baby in his arms. “Let’s see what this says.”

Carefully Ben balanced the wiggling bundle in his arms, so he could unfold the note and read it over the cries of the baby.

“‘Reverend Ben, this is Tyler. He is one month old. I know you will take good care of him.’”

Stunned, Ben dropped the note back into the empty box, then stared blankly down at the little baby boy in his arms.

“Tyler?” The infant answered him with a lusty cry.

“You’re probably hungry…and wet,” Ben said as he shifted the child in his arms. “And I don’t have any food or diapers.” Then, in spite of his concern, he smiled. “But I certainly know someone who does.”

Sara Conroy glanced up just in time to see the tall man with the baby coming directly toward her. The man, handsome in a gentle kind of way, seemed frantic in his efforts to calm the screaming baby. Sara watched, somewhat amused, as he looked up, his incredible blue eyes latching on to her as he headed down the center of the tidy, colorful classroom. He walked carefully so as to avoid stepping on crawling toddlers in his haste.

“Where’s Maggie?” the man asked, his tone breathless in spite of the deep tremor of his voice. “I need her, right now.”

Sara raised a hand, then tossed back her shoulder-length curly red hair. “Hold on there, Daddy. What’s the problem?” Automatically she reached out to take the baby from him.

“This…” the man said, gladly handing the infant over to her. Scissoring a hand through his curly brown locks, he said, “I found him…in the church…a few minutes ago. He’s hungry—” here he wiped one hand down the side of his jeans “—and very wet.”

Spurred into action, Sara glanced over the baby in her arms. “You found him?”

Ben let out a long sigh. “Yes. Someone left him on a church pew. I heard him crying—” He stopped, his gaze shifting from the baby to Sara’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m Ben Hunter. And you must be Maggie’s replacement.”

“Sara Conroy.” She nodded, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “Calm down, Reverend. He won’t break, but we do need to check him over. And we’ll have to call social services, of course.”

“Why?” Ben watched as she gently settled the bawling baby down on a changing table, then moved her hands expertly over his little, thrashing body.

“Well, this child was obviously abandoned,” Sara explained, concern for the baby evident in her words. “We have to alert the proper authorities.” She automatically handed him a sanitized baby wipe to clean his hands.

Ben relaxed a little, then leaned into a nearby counter. “You’re right, of course. There was a note. His name is Tyler and someone seems to think I can take care of him. Is he…is everything all right?”

“I think so,” Sara said. At his doubtful look, she added, “I was a pediatric nurse back in St. Paul. He seems healthy—no fever, no signs of exposure or respiratory problems, but we should have a doctor check him out, just the same.”

Ben threw the wipe into a trash can. “I’ll call Morgan Talbot. He’s the local favorite with all the kids.”

Sara nodded. “Yes, I met Dr. Talbot just the other day.” Glancing over her shoulder to make sure the other children in her care were safe, she buzzed one of the aides. “Abby, can you bring me a warm bottle of formula from our extra supplies?” Then, while Ben called Dr. Talbot, she changed the baby’s soiled diaper and found an extra set of flannel pajamas the day-care center kept on hand in a clothes bin. “We’ll get him fed and quiet, at least. He’ll probably sleep the morning away, poor little fellow.”

After hanging up the phone, Ben watched as Sara Conroy went about her work, amazed at how calm and collected she was. Even with a baby in her arms and children pulling at her long denim skirt, she still managed to somehow keep everything under control. Within minutes, she had Abby entertaining the older children while she sat in a cane-backed rocking chair and fed little Tyler.

“You look right at home here,” he said a few minutes later as Sara laid the contented Tyler down in a nearby bassinet.

“I love children,” she said, her expression growing soft as she gazed down at the baby.

He couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked with her red hair glinting in the bright sunshine that streamed in through the big windows. She had a serene smile, and her eyes were every bit as green as a Minnesota spring, but there was something else about Sara Conroy. She had attitude. Big-city attitude. He could see it in her stance, in the way she carried herself—a little self-assured, a little hard-nosed and tough, maybe a little cynical and wary, and a whole lot weary. Sara Conroy would not take anything off anybody, he imagined.

Even a small-town minister who hadn’t quite found his footing and certainly didn’t want to part with his heart ever again.

“Well, you don’t have to stare,” Sara said, causing Ben to quickly glance away and then back, a grin on his face.

“Sorry, it’s just…you’re not from around these parts. St. Paul, did you say?”

“Yeah, but last time I checked, St. Paul women look and act pretty much the same as other women, especially when a handsome man keeps staring at them.”

He actually blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s…it’s just been one of those mornings. First, finding the baby, then finding…you. Not your typical Monday morning.”

She lifted a slanted brow. “You were expecting Maggie, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I forgot she’s out on extended maternity leave. Doctor’s orders. She can’t risk losing that baby.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Sara said, motioning for him to come into the little office just off the nursery. Turning as Ben followed her, she settled down in the desk chair and smiled up at him. “Have a seat. Less noise in here. We can talk while Abby reads to the children.”

“Is that really why you’re here?” he asked, surprising himself and Sara. “I mean, why would you give up being a pediatric nurse to work in a church day-care center?”

Sara took her time in answering. “I guess that’s a fair question.”

“But none of my business?”

“No, no.” She held up a hand. “It’s okay, really. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“Then you don’t have to talk about it.”

But she needed to talk about it and he seemed like a good listener. Being a minister probably made him an expert listener. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he was intriguing in his shy, quiet way, and handsome in a rugged, unpolished way. Completely opposite from Steven.

Not wanting to dwell on her ex-fiancé and his many flaws, Sara shrugged then said, “My mother died recently. She had Alzheimer’s and it was up to me to take care of her in her final days. Once it was all over, I realized I needed a break, something less stressful. Maggie suggested I come here, to take her place for a while.”

He leaned back on a table. “I’m sorry about your mother. That must have been very hard on you.”

“It was,” she replied, some of the brightness leaving her eyes. “It wasn’t easy, watching her deteriorate right before my eyes. But…we always depended on each other. She didn’t have anyone else. It was up to me.”

Ben reached out a hand to touch hers. “Sounds like you did need a break. Maggie is good at suggesting things like that. She cares about people.”

“She saved my life,” Sara said, then instantly regretted it. “I mean—she called me at exactly the right time. I was on my last legs. Just exhausted.”

“Physically and spiritually,” Ben added, his blue eyes filled with compassion and understanding.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Refusing to give in to the luxury of self-pity, Sara stood up. “But I’m doing okay. I’m all settled in out on the lake and I do love the peacefulness of this place. Less hectic than the big city.”

Ben lifted off the table to follow her out into the long, colorful nursery. “But not nearly as exciting?”

Sara’s little bubble of a laugh magnified her dimples.

“What’s so funny?” Ben asked, captivated.

“Well, Reverend, I’d say my first morning here has been rather exciting, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I guess it has.” He glanced down at Tyler’s pink face. “He’s a handsome baby, isn’t he?”

“Beautiful,” Sara said, the word filled with awe. “I wonder why someone would abandon him like that.”

“I don’t know,” Ben replied. “And why with me, of all people?”

Sara gave him another direct look, again taking her time to answer. “Because, like the note said—whoever left Tyler with you thinks you can take care of him. And I think maybe they’re right.”

“You think that—based on me rushing in here to hand this baby over to the first person I could find?”

“I think that—based on the concerned expression on your face when you brought him, the way you handled him and the way you looked down at him when we finally got him settled. I’ve worked with a lot of parents and children, Reverend, and it’s taught me to be a pretty good judge of character.” She lifted her head, then folded her arms over her leaf-patterned sweater. “Besides, Maggie has already sang your praises. And that’s good enough for me.”

Her smile was full of confidence and assurance. But Ben didn’t feel so confident or so assured. “We’ll have to see about all of that,” he said, looking up to see Dr. Morgan Talbot weaving his way through the toys and toddlers in the room. “I don’t want to disappoint you, or Maggie, but I’m not sure I’m up to taking care of an infant.”

Sara grabbed Ben’s shirtsleeve. “You’re not thinking of sending him away, are you?”

Ben hesitated, then whispered. “I just thought foster parents might be better equipped—”

Sara shook her head. “They left the baby with you. You can’t send little Tyler away without even trying to help him.”

Morgan came in, smiled at them, then went right to Tyler’s bed. “Well, well, Reverend, let’s have a look at your little bundle of joy.”

Ben glanced at his friend, then back to the red-haired, obviously determined woman flashing green fire at him. “I just don’t know—”

“I’ll help you,” she offered, shocking herself in the process. “I’ll help you with Tyler. You should keep him here, surrounded by people who care, until we can decide what to do about him. I’m sure social services will agree.”

Ben could only nod. She certainly seemed determined to keep the baby nearby, but he wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t so sure at all. This was just one more burden, one more test, and he didn’t think he could bear up underneath much more.

But Ben knew that God didn’t always send His answers in the easiest, most convenient packages. Sometimes they came in the form of crying babies and red-haired women with attitude. Whether you wanted them to or not.

“The baby is in good shape,” Morgan told Ben later as they both stood over the bassinet. “He looks completely healthy to me.”

“That’s a relief, at least,” Ben said, one hand automatically touching the tiny fingers of the sleeping infant.

“What are you going to do about him?” Morgan asked, a faint smile on his lips.

“That’s a good question.” Ben let out a sigh, then glanced around the empty nursery. Sara and Abby had taken the other children outside for some fresh air before lunch and nap time. “I don’t think I’m qualified to care for a baby.”

“Someone obviously thought you were.”

“Well, that someone obviously wasn’t thinking this thing through.” He shook his head, then turned to stare out the window where the children toddled here and there on the miniature playground equipment. “I’ve got a meeting with a woman from social services in a few minutes, to decide. Sara seems to think I should keep Tyler here for a little while at least.”

“Sara?” Morgan glanced in the direction of his friend’s gaze. “Oh, that Sara. She comes highly recommended, you know. A friend of Maggie’s, I believe, from college. And fast becoming a friend of Rachel’s, too. My wife met Sara after church yesterday when she went over to visit with Maggie.”

“She’s nice enough,” Ben admitted, his eyes on the smiling woman sitting in a pile of leaves, surrounded by children. He had to smile when she let one of the toddlers drop leaves on top of her head. As she shook her long, wavy hair and laughed, the varying shades of red and orange foliage merged with the brilliant auburn of her shining curls. “Maybe she should take Tyler. She was a pediatric nurse, and she seems to love her work here.”

“They didn’t leave Tyler at her door, friend,” the doctor reminded him. “They left the baby with you.”

“So you’re casting your lot with Sara?”

“I’m casting my lot with you, Reverend. I trust you to do what is best for this child. And for yourself.”

Ben whirled to stare at his friend. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” Morgan grabbed his wind jacket and started for the door. “You’ve just seemed…well, a bit restless lately, Ben. Like you’re not quite settled.”

“I don’t know that I am settled. Every time I think I’ve won the congregation over, something comes up and I’m right back in the middle of a dispute.”

“Give them time,” Morgan told him with a friendly hand on his arm. “Some of these members have been in this church for well over thirty years. They are definitely set in their ways.”

Ben nodded. “And dead set against me and my newfangled changes. Last week, someone complained because I played the guitar during the service. Said he liked the pipe organ just fine, thank you very much. You’d think after three years—”

“Yeah, you’d think,” Morgan said, grinning. “Three years is not much time, considering Reverend Olsen was their minister for most of his life—and thankfully, he never attempted to play any instruments. You’ve at least got him beat in that particular talent.”

“He was a very patient man,” Ben said as he waved Morgan out the door. “I’ll be all right. Finding a baby at my door has just thrown me for a loop. Hey, tell Sara I’m going to wait in here for the police and social services.”

“Okay.” Morgan gave him a salute, then called, “How about a game of one-on-one this afternoon? I think it’s my turn to win.”

Ben nodded. “Okay, hoops on the church court, right after work.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Ben turned back to the sleeping baby, taking the time to enjoy the quiet that had fallen over the usually noisy room. He closed his eyes and stood there for just a minute, a silent prayer forming in his heart. Lord, show me what to do.

Then he lifted his head, his gaze searching out the intriguing woman who’d already issued him a challenge. Sara glanced up at him, waved, then grabbed a cute little blond-haired girl and lifted her onto the tiny swing. Soon she had the child going back and forth in an arc of rainbow swirls. They sure made a pretty picture.

So pretty, that Ben had to look away. He’d often thought he’d have a family one day, but it wasn’t meant to be. He was alone again, with not a sound to disturb him.

Except for the faint, rhythmic breathing of the baby someone had left in his care.