Ben's Bundle of Joy
“I can change all of that easily enough,” Erickson stated, the threatening tone in his words leaving no doubt that he would do just that.
“But you won’t,” Ben said, his own stance just as rigid. “You wouldn’t do that to an innocent child, would you?” When the man didn’t answer, he added, “Sir, you can do what you want to me, you can blame me for Jason’s problems, too, if that makes you feel better. But don’t do anything to jeopardize Tyler. He’s very young and very alone right now, and if you interfere, he’ll just be snatched away again. Do you really want that on your conscience?”
His words seemed to calm the older man. Richard Erickson looked up then and realized they weren’t alone anymore. The manners set in immediately. As he lifted a hand to Sara in greeting, his whole expression softened.
“I’ve got too much to deal with as it is,” he said at last, his voice low now. “But I’m warning you, you’d better watch your step. And you’d better hope I find my son soon.”
“I’ll pray for that day and night, just as I’ve been doing,” Ben told him, meaning it. “If you need anything—”
“I don’t.” With that, Erickson nodded to Sara, then turned and headed out the door to his luxury sedan.
Sara took one look at Ben and headed straight to him. “You should sit down.”
He didn’t argue with her. Instead, he fell down into Emma’s softly padded desk chair, sighed long and hard, then ran a hand through his hair with a groan of frustration. “Sorry you had to witness that.”
Hoping to lighten the somber mood, Sara said, “Do you always win over your members in such a sure way?”
“Every last one of them,” he told her, some of the tension leaving his face. Then he looked up at her. “Mr. Erickson doesn’t like me very much right now. His youngest child, and only son, Jason, ran away from home earlier this year, and he blames me for it.”
“You?” Shocked, Sara leaned against the corner of the desk, near him, her long khaki skirt rustling as she crossed her legs. “I thought your job was to save souls, not alienate them.”
“Yeah, me, too, but it doesn’t always go that way.”
“Want to talk about it?”
He looked up at her again, taking in those glorious red curls and her mysterious green eyes. She had a few freckles scattered across her pert nose, but the rest of her skin was porcelain white and looked creamy soft. She wore a short, green-and-brown striped heavy cotton sweater that only brought out the red of her hair and the green of her eyes. And brought out the warmth in his heart.
“That’s supposed to be my line,” he told her by way of an answer.
“Which means you probably don’t ever have a chance to vent your own frustrations, right?”
“I have plenty of chances,” he replied, his hands resting on the arms of the chair as he leaned back to admire her. “I can talk to God anytime.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Did you just snort? Are you scoffing at me?”
“I’m not snorting or scoffing at all,” she said, then smiled. “Okay, maybe I’m a little cynical right now. I know, I know—God is always there. But you look like you could use a real friend right now, a human friend.”
“And you’re offering to be that friend?”
“Yes, I guess I am.” She pushed away from the desk, leaving a trail of flower-and-spice perfume in her wake. “You know, Emma told me that you wanted me to join you for a slice of her famous pumpkin bread—insisted I come right on over here.” She headed into the kitchenette. “But I can’t leave the babies with an aide for long. Now, do you want to talk to me about this or not. Time is precious.”
Ben shook his head, laughing as he managed to finally get up out of the chair. “It will take a long time to explain what you just heard and saw.”
“Well, sorry. Gotta go.” She had her slice of bread and was already headed out the side door. “I guess you’ll just have to bring Tyler out to the lake, for dinner at my place tonight. Say around six-thirty?”
Ben almost fell back into the chair again. This woman was different, that was for sure. And full of intriguing surprises. “Miss Conroy, are you asking me for a date?”
“No, Reverend Hunter, I’m just telling you I’ll fix you dinner.”
He tipped his head to one side, his smile changing into a grin. “That Emma—look what she’s done now.”
“Oh, you didn’t really invite me for breakfast?”
“No, but I’m glad you came by.”
“So, does that mean you’ll come for dinner?”
“I didn’t know nurses could cook.”
“We’re pretty handy with a microwave and a few written instructions,” she said, giving him an impish smile.
“I’ll be there,” he told her as he walked her down the short hallway.
“With Tyler?”
“With Tyler,” he said, then added, “if Richard Erickson doesn’t have him taken away before sundown.”
She heard the humor in his voice, but saw the concern in his eyes, too. “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”
“He would and he could. The man is very bitter right now and he’d do just about anything to have me removed from this church.”
“We’ll just have to say a prayer that he doesn’t follow through on his threats, right?”
Ben grabbed at his chest, an expression of mock surprise on his face. “You—you’re going to pray for me?”
“Hey, I still talk to God on occasion, even if I don’t think He’s really listening.”
Ben touched her arm then. “He always listens, Sara. You have to know that. After all, He sent you to rescue me this morning, didn’t He?”
“That was Emma’s doing,” she said, acutely aware of the clean, fresh smell of baby lotion mixed with aftershave that lifted out around him. “And remind me to thank her later.”
“Are you sure it was all Emma’s doing?” he countered, holding the door for her, but not letting her pass just yet.
“No, I’m not sure of anything right now, except that I need to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight, Rev.”
Ben watched her walk across the yard toward the day-care center, her straight skirt swishing, her long booted legs carrying her on her merry way. He didn’t know if God had sent Sara to him, but she had come just in time, he decided.
Because she was right. He could use a friend. He was blessed with several well-meaning friends here in the church and he appreciated how Emma and Betty stood by him and fought for him, but he needed someone to share quiet moments with, someone he could really open up to and talk with. And Sara Conroy fit the bill—almost too perfectly.
Yet, she’d set the ground rules, and as long as they stuck by them, they’d both be okay. She was willing to be his friend, and she was willing to help with Tyler. Surely there could be no harm in that.
Ben decided he did need her help—he needed Sara to show him how to be a good surrogate dad to Tyler. And he wouldn’t lose Tyler. Richard Erickson’s threats had made Ben even more determined to keep the baby safe and near. Somehow he had to show Jason’s bitter father that he was fit to take care of the little baby, and fit to take care of this congregation, too.
And somehow he hoped God would hear all of their prayers and show Jason Erickson the way back home again.
Chapter Four
“So, because you stepped in and tried to counsel this boy, his father now blames you for his running away?”
Sara held her fork on her plate, her gaze falling across Ben’s troubled face. He’d just told her, between bites of salad and spaghetti, about Jason Erickson and his prominent, immensely wealthy family.
“That about sums things up,” Ben replied as he snagged another crusty piece of French bread then dipped it into the sauce on his plate. “And maybe Mr. Erickson is right.”
“I see,” Sara replied, laying her fork down to stare over at him. “So now you’re beginning to blame yourself, too? Ben, from everything you just told me, it sounds as if you did all you could to help this boy. It’s not your fault he felt forced to run away from home.”
Ben dropped his bread on his plate, then sat back in his chair with a long sigh. “But did I cause this? I’ve asked myself that same question over and over in the last few months. I encouraged the boy to come out of his self-protective shell, to open up to me, and I also encouraged him to get involved with the church basketball team—something his father apparently didn’t approve of at all.”
“But you have to remember that by doing those things you opened up a whole new world to Jason. It sounds as if he needed an outlet—precisely to keep him out of trouble and give him some confidence, and you gave him that outlet.”
Ben gave a little nod of agreement and straightened up in his chair. “He loved the game and he had a natural talent for it. But he’d been struggling in school and I’m afraid all the practices and the heavy schedule did make matters worse. I tutored him, but—”
“But—nothing,” Sara said, getting up to refill their water glasses. As she walked by the coffeepot, she flipped the On button and started a fresh brew for later. “Something else must have triggered his leaving. I can’t believe a few bad grades would make him do something so desperate.”
Ben leaned back in his chair again, and Sara watched as he surveyed the quaint little kitchen decorated with various antique cooking utensils and dozens of potted plants which she hoped she could keep alive through the winter.
“His grades had actually improved a little. And he was trying so hard to please his father and still maintain his own identity. I just wish I knew what really happened.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“In April of this year. He came by the office to do some homework, but his mind wasn’t on it. He seemed distracted, worried. I tried to find out what was wrong, but he wouldn’t talk and I just thought he was nervous about the history test he had the next day.” Rubbing a hand across his chin, he added, “But I’ve talked to him on the phone a couple of times since then. He won’t contact his parents, so I’ve tried to encourage him to let me help him, but he refuses to tell me what’s going on. I should have tried to help him, make him tell me what was wrong, way back when I had the chance.”
“You had no way of knowing,” Sara said as she set a plate of cookies on the table, then indicated to Ben to take one. “Emma sends her love along with her special tea cakes.”
That perked Ben up. “I’ve had her tea cakes,” he said as he snared one and bit into it. “Mmm, good.”
“Let’s take these delicious cookies and our coffee into the den,” Sara told him, hoping to take his mind off Jason. “That way we can check on little Tyler, too.”
Ben followed her, carrying the plate of cookies. “He’s sleeping away. I think he likes the fire.”
Sara smiled down at the baby. They’d fixed him up a blanketed bed on a deep arm chair near the fire, safe with pillows all around. “He does look content. You apparently did a good job on your first day as his guardian.”
“I was a nervous wreck,” Ben admitted as he settled down on the matching floral couch, then glanced over at the sleeping baby.
As she sat down in another armchair, Sara had to admit it felt good, having them both here in her new home. It didn’t seem nearly as lonely tonight.
The room was long and narrow, with a dozen or so paned windows that allowed a sweeping view of the lake down below the tree-shaded hills. In the summer, the windows could be thrown open to the fresh country air, but tonight Sara had them shut tight against the approaching chill of winter.
Ben looked at Tyler, his expression thoughtful and hopeful. “I think that’s why I’m determined to help this child—after all of this with Jason, I mean. I let Jason slip away, but maybe this…maybe this is another chance for me, having Tyler to look after.”
Sara’s heart went into another telltale spin. Oh, she didn’t want to feel these things she was beginning to feel. But Ben Hunter looked so sweet, so scared, so lost, sitting there with the firelight reflecting in his blue eyes. Funny, how she’d always assumed ministers just had pat answers for every situation, that they coped above and beyond anything ordinary humans had to endure. But being around Ben Hunter had taught her that even a man of God was still a human being, with feelings and emotions just like anyone else.
Yet, this particular minister did his very best to shield the rest of the world from his own innermost thoughts and torments. Which was why she was worried about him now.
She could tell by the way he talked about the baby, that he was already forming a strong bond with little Tyler. What would happen when the authorities made a decision regarding the baby? What if Ben became too attached to the little boy?
“Ben, you realize you might not have Tyler for very long, don’t you?”
“Oh, sure,” he said, but it sounded hollow in the silent room. “Don’t give me that doubtful look. I know I won’t be able to keep him. But at least while he’s here, I can give him all the love and nurturing that I’ve got.”
“And you’ve sure got a lot, from what I can tell.”
He looked up at her then, his cookie in midair, his expression warm, his eyes questioning. “How do you know that? We’ve only known each other a couple of days now.”
Sara shifted in her chair, wishing she’d learn not to blurt out whatever popped into her head. “Well, you seem to have a good rapport with your congregation, Mr. Erickson aside. And I feel as if I knew you already, before I even met you, thanks to Maggie’s accurate description.”
Yes, Maggie had told her Ben was handsome and sensitive, a good minister. Maybe that was why Sara seemed so attracted to him—she’d come into this with already-high expectations. She shrugged, uncomfortable with the whole conversation. “Emma thinks you hung the moon, and Betty is always singing your praises.”
There. That explained it. Everyone thought Ben was perfect, so naturally, Sara would just assume that he was. She’d been brainwashed, obviously. Surely there was a flaw hiding behind that captivating grin and those incredible blue eyes.
His gaze didn’t waver. “They have both been a tremendous help to me, that’s for sure.”
Because he was staring at her with that bemused, confused expression plastered across his face, because the room was growing exceptionally warm, Sara hopped up. “Want some more coffee or more cookies?”
“No, I want to know why you think I’m such a lovable guy?”
Flustered, she sank back down on the overstuffed chair. “Well, because…you’re a preacher. Isn’t lovable a prerequisite?”
“I suppose, but I’ve known some cold, unlovable ministers in my time.”
Seizing on that, she threw out a hand. “There, you see! You obviously aren’t one of those. You know how to connect with people, draw people out. I’m surprised you’re still single.”
Her soft, mortified moan only made Ben laugh. “You like me, don’t you?”
Sara hung her head, hoping her mop of curls would hide the red in her face. “Of course, I like you. You’ve been a good friend, and you’ve made me feel very welcome here. And since we’ve agreed to share the responsibility of taking care of Tyler—”
“That would naturally make us have to stay in close contact, right?”
“Right—so that’s why I’m just…glad that you’re—”
“Such a lovable guy?”
“Yes, exactly.” She slapped her palm on her lap, her gaze centered on the fire. “It would be hard to maintain a relationship—I mean, a friendship—with someone who was distant and uncaring.”
The bemused expression shifted into something more confident and self-assured. “So, we’ve agreed that we’ll share in Tyler’s well-being, and we’ve agreed that we have some sort of relationship—I mean, friendship—developing here.”
She squirmed, straightened a stack of magazines on the table, then crossed one booted leg over the other one. “Yes, I think we can safely agree on those two things.”
Ben took a bite of his cookie. “Well, I’m glad we got that settled.”
Sara looked up at him at last, and seeing the amusement in his eyes, ventured a nervous smile herself. “I feel like a complete idiot.”
“Why? Because you had to admit you like me? I’m flattered, of course, but I promise I won’t fall at your feet with undying gratitude and embarrass you any further.”
“Thanks for that, at least.” She got up to stir the fire, which was blazing right along with no intent of going out—just like the one burning in her belly. “Ben, I was engaged—”
He sat up, another cookie uneaten in his hand. “Are you about to tell me you’re not ready for anything long-term and heavy?” In spite of the lighthearted nature of his words, Sara sensed the seriousness in his eyes.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m about to tell you. Steven and I were a couple for years, but…for some reason, we never did really make a strong commitment to each other. We tried, but there was my work, and his work, and then when my mother got ill—”
“He didn’t know how to handle it?”
When his tone became just as serious as his gaze, she turned to face him. “No, he didn’t appreciate my long hours at the hospital, and my refusal to put my mother in a home.”
“What happened?”
“He took a job in Atlanta, Georgia, and he gave me an ultimatum. Either come with him, or the wedding was off.”
“So I guess I know the answer.”
“Yep. Same old story, different chapter.”
“You did what you had to do.”
“That’s a rather tired cliché, don’t you think?”
“But an accurate one.”
“I couldn’t leave my mother.”
At the anguish in her voice, Ben dropped the forgotten cookie back on the plate and came to stand by her in front of the fire. “No, you couldn’t do that, and you don’t have to explain that to anybody.”
He wasn’t exactly sure when his hand had moved up to her shoulder, but suddenly he was holding her, hugging her the way he’d hugged hundreds of suffering church members in a time of crisis. “I’m sorry, about your engagement, about your mother. But I’m not sorry you got rid of ol’ Steven.”
“Oh, really?” Because he held her face crushed against his sweatshirt, it came out muffled.
“Really. Because now you have a chance to get to know a lovable, nurturing preacher who needs a lot of help with a little baby boy.”
“And his ego, too, apparently,” she said as she raised her head, her expression dubious.
Ben looked down at her and felt his heart swelling with a certain need, a need that he hadn’t felt or wanted to feel for a very long time. When had this solicitous hug turned into something more intimate, something more…rewarding?
“My ego is fragile,” he said as his gaze touched on her shining, clouded eyes. Too fragile to tell her his own dark fears and secret regrets.
“Then you know none of this can last, right?”
“You mean, Tyler’s being here, you and I being here, together like this?”
“Yes.”
The one word held all the defeat he felt in his soul. Yes, he knew this couldn’t last, and he didn’t really want it to last, did he? This was too close to being perfect; too close to being exactly as he’d envisioned his life so long ago. But he’d envisioned this dream with another woman, and she was gone now. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Sara about Nancy just yet. Because he wasn’t accustomed to baring his soul to anyone other than God, the pain of losing his own fiancée three years ago was his to bear alone.
“Yes,” he echoed, his gaze searching her face, “I know this is all very temporary. I’m not holding my breath, waiting for any sort of commitments, just dealing with what the good Lord has thrown my way.”
“You sound so resigned.”
He backed away then, sweeping a hand through his hair. “Yes, I guess I am resigned. I’ve learned the hard way that sometimes the very things you think you want and need, the things you think you can’t live without…well, sometimes those very things can be taken from you in a heartbeat.”
He glanced over at Sara. The expectant look on her face scared him, forcing him to put a different spin on his own self-pity. “I’ve seen it so many times—losing someone you love is never easy and there are no easy answers. We tend to lash out at God, because we expect Him to give us answers. But, in the end, we have to wait and pray and hope we find our own peace of mind.”
“That’s so true. It was like that when I lost my mother and Steven, too. I felt so alone.”
Relieved that she seemed satisfied with his pitiful ramblings and gentle platitudes, Ben turned back to her then, his words full of compassion and the trace of bitterness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe we should just enjoy our time together and let it go at that.”
“Maybe,” she replied, the one word full of questions.
Ben didn’t miss the disappointment in that one word. He felt that same disappointment in his heart.
But disappointment was so much easier to deal with than real pain.
Ben entered the Book-Stop, a combination bookstore and café located directly on the green in beautiful downtown Fairweather. Intent on finding a book on infant care, he smiled and waved at Frank Wren, the owner, and Maggie’s anxious husband.
“How’s Maggie?” Ben asked as he made his way to the long wooden counter where Frank was taking inventory of some paperbacks.
“Any day now, Reverend,” Frank said in his fast-clipped Minnesota accent. “My wife is ready to have this baby.”
“We’re all praying for you,” Ben told the nervous father-to-be.
But who could blame Frank for being nervous? After trying for five years to have a child, Maggie and Frank had just about given up, and then there had been complications throughout the pregnancy. This child was truly a blessing.
Frank nodded, then replied, “And I’ll do the same for you. How’s your little one?”
Touched that Frank had referred to Tyler as his own, Ben grinned. “He’s amazing. I’ve only had him a week, but I think he’s grown a few inches already. And that’s why I’m here, Frank. I need a book on babies.”
Frank chuckled, then pointed to a row toward the back of the store. “Got lots of those, but, Rev, they don’t make an accurate instruction manual for children. That’s what Maggie is always telling me, anyway.”
“She would know,” Ben said, shaking his head. “She’s certainly helped take care of most of the children in Fairweather. And now, her own. She’ll be a good mother.”
“That I know.” Frank pointed back to the shelf. “C’mon, let’s see what we can find.”
Ben followed Frank’s stocky, fast-walking figure to the back of the store. It was late afternoon and he had to get back in time to pick up Tyler from the church nursery. And see Sara, of course.
Like it or not, he was growing closer to Sara Conroy each and every day. Maybe because she was helping him take care of Tyler, and because they worked in the same building, they just naturally ran into each other. Maybe because he liked her, a lot. Maybe because she was pretty and charming and a straight-talker with no secrets to guard.
Well, maybe a few.
Sara was a complete mystery, a mystery that Ben found himself wanting to explore more and more. So he also found himself coming up with little excuses to visit the nursery.
Well, he had to check on Tyler, didn’t he? The little baby had become a big part of his life. And he looked forward to taking Tyler home each night, to cuddling with him in the big leather chair by the fire, to telling him stories of the Bible and God’s amazing work. A baby, Ben had found out, was easy to talk to, to share secrets with, to open up your heart to. And so was Sara Conroy.
What would he do when they were both gone from his life?
“How ’bout this one?”
Ben looked up to find Frank staring at him, a fat book in his hand.
“That one looks good,” Ben said, not even bothering to read the title. Didn’t he know Maggie was right? There were no concrete answers to raising a child.
“Of course, you have the best book of all already,” Frank told him as they headed back up to the front of the shop.
Still distracted by thoughts of Sara, Ben said, “I do?”