Читать книгу Ben's Bundle of Joy - Lenora Worth, Rachel Hauck - Страница 11

Chapter Three

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In a blur of baby, blankets and bags, Ben Hunter stepped inside the outer reception room to his church office, thankful that the cold morning air didn’t have a hint of snow. That would come soon enough in November. And he couldn’t imagine having to dress a wiggling, tiny baby in a snowsuit. It had taken him twenty extra minutes just to get Tyler in the fleece button-up outfit Betty had thoughtfully supplied.

“Oh, there you are.”

Emma Fulton got up to come around her desk, her blue eyes flashing brightly as she cooed right toward Tyler. “Let me see that precious child, Reverend Ben.”

Ben didn’t hesitate to turn the baby over to Emma. The woman had five grandchildren, so she knew what to do with a baby.

“He had a good night,” Ben said, letting out a breath as he dropped all the paraphernalia he’d brought along onto a nearby chair. “He was up around four, but other than that, we did okay.”

“Of course you did,” Emma said, still cooing and talking baby talk. “Even if the good reverend does look a little tired.” Pointing her silvery bun toward the small kitchen just off her office, she said, “There’s pumpkin bread.”

“Bless you,” Ben replied, heading straight to the coffeepot. “Somehow I didn’t manage to get breakfast.” With a grin he called over his shoulder, “But Tyler sure had his. That little fellow can go through a bottle.”

“He’s a growing boy,” Emma replied as she danced a jig with the baby. “Oh, my, look at that. He’s laughing. He likes his aunt Emma.”

“Well, go ahead,” Ben teased as he came back into the room with a chunk of the golden-brown bread, “tell him you were Strawberry Festival Queen in…what year was that, Emma?”

“Never you mind what year, kid. Just remember who you’re dealing with here.” Her smile belied her defensive tone.

“I always remember who’s the boss around here,” Ben admonished. Then when he heard someone clearing his throat in his office, he turned to Emma. “Visitor?”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She whirled with the baby in her arms. “Finish your breakfast first. It’s Mr. Erickson.”

Ben immediately put down his coffee and the last of his bread. “Maybe he’s heard something from Jason.”

“Don’t know,” Emma whispered, her expression turning sad. “Want me to take Tyler to the nursery for you?”

“Would you mind?” Ben gathered the baby’s things for her. “Tell Sara I’ll be over in a little while to check on him and give her a report about his first night with me.”

“I certainly will do that,” Emma said, getting her smile back in a quick breath, her eyes perfectly centered on the baby.

Ben knew that look. Emma would try to match him up with Sara. Somehow, the thought of that didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should—considering Emma had tried to match him up with every single woman in Fairweather, usually with disastrous results. With Sara Conroy, he couldn’t foresee any disaster, other than the one in which he might lose his heart. And he wasn’t willing to risk that just yet.

As he entered the quiet confines of his office, however, another type of disaster entered his mind. Richard Erickson stood looking out over the prayer garden, his hands tucked in the pockets of his dark tailored wool suit pants, his graying hair trimmed into a rigid style, just the way he ran the local bank and most of this town.

Ben dreaded another confrontation with the man, but his heart had to go out to Mr. Erickson. His only son, sixteen-year-old Jason, had run away from home several months ago.

“Hello, Mr. Erickson,” Ben said, extending his hand as the older man pivoted to stare at him with a look of condemnation mixed with a condescending air.

The handshake was quick and unmeaningful, but Richard Erickson was too polite and straitlaced to behave without the impeccable manners that befit a descendant of the founding family of the town. Ben gave him credit for that much, at least.

“Reverend.”

“What can I do for you this morning? Any word from Jason, sir?”

At the mention of his youngest child’s name, Richard Erickson’s whole demeanor changed. After having three daughters, his son, Jason, had been his pride and joy, and ultimately, the child of which he made the most demands and held the highest expectations.

His expression became etched with regret and pride. “No. I was hoping you might have heard something. He did call you before.”

“You know I would call you immediately if Jason tried to contact me,” Ben told him. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t heard anything since the last call back in September.”

“Are you sure you’d tell me if you did?”

Ben could see the hostility in the man’s brown eyes. It still galled him that this man who contributed so much financially to the church, could not contribute anything emotionally to Ben or his ministry, or to his son Jason, for that matter. Yet Ben didn’t have the heart to tell Richard Erickson that part of the reason his son was missing today was because of Mr. Erickson’s cold, distant relationship with the boy.

Jason had confided in Ben, and he wouldn’t break that confidence. Early on, right after Jason had left, Ben had tried to sit down with Richard and Mary Erickson and explain what Ben had told him. He’d gotten to know the boy pretty well, after serving as coach for the church basketball team.

But the Ericksons would not listen to Ben’s concerns. They had told him in no uncertain terms that they blamed him for interfering in their relationship with their son, that Ben’s influence had put newfangled notions in the boy’s head and caused him to rebel.

Now, however, Ben was their only source of comfort, since Jason had contacted him on two different occasions after running away earlier in the year. For that reason, and for Jason’s sake, Ben swallowed his own resentment and tried to counsel the couple—when they would let him.

Sensing that Richard needed to talk, Ben gestured to a floral armchair. “Please, sit down.”

“I don’t have much time,” Richard said, but he did sit on the very edge of the chair, his back straight, his expression grim. “I just wanted to tell you—if you hear from my son again, you have to let me know. My wife is beside herself—what with the holidays coming up and everything. And all our efforts to track him down have only brought us disappointment.”

“I understand, sir,” Ben said, his hands folded over his heavily marked desk pad calendar. “I will do whatever I can to convince Jason to come home. I hope you realize that.”

“I realize,” Richard Erickson said as he rose to leave, “that my son is deeply troubled and that I hold you partially responsible for whatever brought him to this extreme.” He held up a hand then. “But I do appreciate your efforts on Jason’s behalf, and in light of this new situation, I just wanted to remind you where your priorities should be.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” Ben said, getting up to follow Erickson out of the office. “What are you trying to tell me, Mr. Erickson?”

Richard Erickson stopped at the door, then turned to face Ben, the look in his eyes devoid of any compassion or understanding. “Taking in a stray baby, an orphan? Come on, Reverend, we both know that you have no business trying to take care of an infant. You should be concentrating on taking care of your congregation. I still get complaints about you, you know. And this latest development hasn’t helped matters, not one bit.”

Shocked and angry beyond words, Ben gripped the edge of Emma’s desk in order to regain his composure. “You don’t need to worry about Tyler, Mr. Erickson. I know what I’m doing and I don’t intend to let taking care of this baby interfere with my work here. Rest assured, I know what my responsibilities are.”

“Do you?” Erickson pointed a finger in the air. “If you had concentrated on preaching instead of sports, my son might be here today. But you had to form that basketball team, just to glorify yourself. You had to prove that you were the best in college, so you got these local boys all worked up about basketball and winning. Jason didn’t have any complaints in life until you came along. Then all he could think about was practice. He was neglecting his studies, getting behind in school. He changed right before our eyes. And now you’re planning on raising a baby?”

Ben couldn’t believe the things coming out of Richard Erickson’s mouth. The man had a skewered idea of what had brought his son to such desperate measures.

Hoping to set him straight, Ben said, “Jason had problems long before I came into the picture, sir. If you’d only listen—”

“I’m done listening to you, Reverend. And I have a good mind to call the authorities and tell them what I know about you. You are not fit to raise that baby, and by trying to prove yourself once again, you will fail. And this church will suffer even more for it. Maybe you should have thought about that, before you took on this new challenge.”

Ben looked up to see Sara Conroy standing in the hallway that led to the small narthex of the church. She must have come in from the other side, and from the frozen expression on her face, she’d obviously heard most of their conversation.

Feeling defeated, but refusing to give in to Richard Erickson’s rigid attitude, Ben sighed, then asked God for guidance. The very thought of this man trying to have Tyler taken from him only reinforced Ben’s close bond with the baby. “I can take care of that baby. I have plenty of people more than willing to help me through this.”

“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.

Ben's Bundle of Joy

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