Bachelor Father

“No one will ever accuse you of not putting in a full day,” he remarked.

“Hard work is healthy for the body and soul. Besides, rocking babies isn’t exactly what I would call work.” She glanced again at the angelic face peeking out of the pink blanket.

“I think the hospital is fortunate to have someone so devoted to other people’s children. Anyone who comes through that door can see you’re good with kids.”

His compliment warmed her insides. For two weeks she’d been volunteering in the hospital’s child-care center where there had been a steady stream of infants and toddlers who had sat on her lap in the wooden rocking chair. Most of the hospital staff knew that Faith had a talent for quieting even the unhappiest of visitors. What they didn’t know was that she found comfort in tending to them. It made her feel useful and wanted, but more importantly it gave her an identity—something she needed desperately. As long as she was at the hospital she knew who she was. She was the baby rocker.

“I like kids,” she stated simply.

“And it’s obvious they like you, but you’re still entitled to have some time for yourself at the end of the day,” Dr. Carson said.

Faith could have told him that the one thing she didn’t need was free time. Just the opposite was true. The busier she was, the better she liked it. When her hands were occupied, her mind didn’t have time to dwell on what was missing in her life. It was much easier to rock a fussy baby to sleep or calm a toddler having a temper tantrum than it was to be alone with her thoughts.

“I want to stay,” she insisted. “And Mrs. Carmichael will appreciate having the help. She’s always saying we don’t have enough hands even when we are fully staffed.”

To Faith’s surprise, however, when her supervisor heard her offer she said, “That’s very sweet of you to want to stay, Faith, but I think Dr. Carson’s right. You’ve put in enough hours already today.”

“But you’re short one worker,” she reminded her. “What if it gets busy?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen—not with the way it’s snowing. You go home and relax,” Mrs. Carmichael ordered her.

Most people would have been happy to hear such words, but not Faith. She didn’t have a place to call home, just a room at the Carsons’. And work was relaxing for her. No matter how welcome the Carsons made her feel, at the end of the day she was still alone in a strange house with only her troubled mind and its unanswered questions.

Carefully Faith got up from the rocker, holding Emma steady so as not to wake her. As she placed the baby in one of the cribs, she felt a shiver of loneliness. She brought her fingertips to her lips, then blew a kiss in the infant’s direction.

Watching her, Dr. Carson said gently, “There will be more babies for you to rock tomorrow.”

Faith nodded, knowing that what he said was true. The child-care center would be open to parents who wanted a place to leave their children while they visited patients in the hospital. Chances are she would be the one taking care of them—if tomorrow began the same way every day of the past three weeks had begun, with her waking up and not knowing who she was.

Although doctors had been successful in treating her physical injuries from her accident, she still hadn’t recovered from the amnesia that was as puzzling to doctors as it was to her. Memory loss due to trauma was not uncommon, but rarely did it include a loss of identity. She’d been told it was a temporary condition and that her memory would either return suddenly or gradually, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. So far, neither had happened. Her past was a blank canvas and the only life she knew was the one that had started the day Avery and Marie Carson had stopped to help her as she lay unconscious at a roadside rest stop.

From the moment she’d met the doctor and his wife, they had showed her nothing but kindness, taking her into their home, providing her with clothes from a local charity and treating her like the daughter they’d never had. They were good, honest people who hadn’t hesitated to come to her aid when she was desperately in need of help. Faith hoped that if she did have a family somewhere, they would be as generous and as compassionate as the Carsons.

She had to belong somewhere, yet where that someplace was and with whom she shared it remained trapped in a past she couldn’t remember. Even though she hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring when she’d been rescued, she knew she couldn’t rule out the possibility that she had a husband. Or children. That thought always brought an ache to her heart. She didn’t want to think that she could ever forget her own child. Yet until her memory returned, just how much family she did have would remain a mystery.

As she tugged on her winter coat, Mrs. Carmichael mentioned that she had a cart full of children’s books to be taken to the second floor. Faith looked at Dr. Carson and asked, “Would you mind if we dropped them off on our way out?”

“Not at all,” he said with a smile, and held the door for her as she pushed the book cart into the hallway.

Although pediatrics was her favorite unit in the hospital, every time she visited the young patients her throat filled with emotion. This time was no different. As Faith and Dr. Carson made their way through the unit, she noticed a little girl who was being pushed down the long corridor in a hospital bed. When the orderly stopped for a moment to confer with a nurse, Faith found herself staring into an ashen face framed by blond hair. At first she thought she was asleep, but then she saw her eyelids flutter.

Faith automatically smiled, wondering if the girl was even aware of her presence. Slowly the girl’s sleepy eyes opened and stared directly at Faith. They were the color of the blue jays that fed outside the Carsons’ kitchen window every morning, and were trying to focus on Faith’s face. As they did, a hint of a smile parted the parched lips.

“Hello,” Faith said softly.

Small fingers slipped out from beneath the white blanket and reached for Faith who didn’t hesitate to take the delicate hand in hers and gently squeeze it.

“Am I in heaven?” The girl’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Faith exchanged glances with Dr. Carson before looking back at her. “No, you’re in the hospital.”

“And you’re here, too?” The voice remained weak.

“Yes, I work here.”

“Does that mean you can stay with me?” she asked, a ray of hope flickering in her eyes.

“No, I’m sorry I can’t. I’m not a nurse. I work downstairs in the child-care center,” Faith explained. “I rock babies.”

Confusion clouded the blue eyes. “But I want you to stay with me.”

The plea in the tiny voice tugged on Faith’s emotions.

Before she could say another word, the orderly had returned. “Sorry, but we need to get this young lady into her room.” He gave Faith an apologetic look as he returned to the foot of the bed.

“The people here are nice. They’ll take good care of you,” Faith said, but the girl’s lower lip quivered in dismay as Faith released her small hand.

“But I want you to take care of me,” she said in such a pathetic little voice that Faith felt a lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. You’ll be fine,” she said with a smile of encouragement. Then she put her fingers to her lips and blew her a kiss and was touched when the girl returned the gesture.

As the bed rolled away Dr. Carson said, “You were tempted to go with her, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Faith admitted. “She looked so frightened.”

“You were able to chase away that fear—at least for a moment or two. You truly have a gift to make children feel better,” Dr. Carson said with a pat on her arm.

His words were of little comfort. She felt as if she’d let this one particular child down. “She wanted me to stay with her.”

This time Dr. Carson put an arm around her and gave her a gentle hug. “Of course she did. She took one look into your eyes and saw compassion and kindness. It’s true what they say, Faith, that the eyes are the window to a person’s soul. The day I met you yours told me there’s not a mean bone in your body. And watching you interact with children, I’m convinced that I read yours correctly.”

She wanted to believe that what he said was true, that when she did finally remember who she was and what was in her past that she would discover that his trust was not misplaced. Yet there were so many unanswered questions running through her mind.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met you and Marie.” She told him the one thing of which she was certain. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“You make it easy, Faith.”

She forced a weak smile. “I think you’re the kind of person who looks for the good in people. I just hope that someday you don’t discover that…” She trailed off, not wanting to express her fears.

“What? That you’re someone I shouldn’t have trusted?”

“It’s a possibility,” she admitted.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

“But what if…”

Dr. Carson stopped her with a lift of his hand. “We’re not going to talk about the what-ifs. Now let’s get these books to where they’re supposed to be so we can get home. Marie’s got dinner in the oven and we don’t want to be late.”