Ben's Bundle of Joy

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.

Chapter Two

“We really don’t have much choice.”

Betty Anderson looked at the crowd of people gathered in her office at The Old First Church Day-care Center, her reading glasses tipped precariously on the end of her pert nose. “I think Ben will make a fine temporary guardian for Tyler.”

“I agree.” The chief of police, Samuel Riley, a short, round man with white hair and a beard that always got him the part of Santa in the church Christmas functions, nodded his head so vigorously that his ruddy double chin rolled up against his chest. “Ben, with all this red tape we have to wade through with social services and child welfare, and given the fact that we’ve never had anything like this occur in Fairweather, I think you’re the best candidate for taking care of the baby at this point—just until we can weigh all the facts and find out exactly what the proper procedure is around here.”

“It would only be for a few days, a week at most,” Betty pointed out. “And, Ben, you know we’ll all pitch in. You can bring Tyler here every day during the week. Sara has already agreed to watch him for you—whenever you need her to.” Her smile indicated she was immensely pleased with Sara’s offer.

“I’ll even go over the basics with you, step by step,” Sara told him, that glint of a challenge in her green eyes.

“I appreciate that,” Ben replied, his eyes touching on Sara Conroy’s face as he sat back in his chair. It was late in the day and Tyler was safe in the infant room with all the other children. But it had been a long and trying day for Ben. Not only had he had to go round and round with the police, but the child welfare office in Minneapolis hadn’t offered up much help, either. The closest available foster family they could come up with was in St. Paul. And everyone agreed that the baby shouldn’t be carted off to the big city—not when he had a loving, supportive community of people right here, willing to help take care of him. The authorities had pulled what strings they could, to keep the child here.