Ben's Bundle of Joy

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.”