stop trying to push pets off on me?”
He knew the church secretary, Emma Fulton, meant well. Emma was a social butterfly. She liked being the center of attention, and she liked having people and pets around all the time. So, naturally she thought Ben needed the same in his life—for companionship. Which meant she was constantly trying to fix him up with either blind dates or abandoned animals. Ben didn’t know which was worse—the setups never panned out because he usually never heard from the ladies again, and because he couldn’t turn the animals away, he was slowly collecting a small zoo. At least the animals took a liking to him, even if none of the single women in town did.
“I can’t take any more strays, Emma,” he said, his voice echoing over the cream-colored walls and vaulted, beamed ceiling of the antique church. He half expected the plump secretary to jump out from behind a pew, singing one of her favorite hymns. As he reached the back of the church, though, Ben stopped and stared into the sturdy cardboard box someone had left on the pew. This was no ordinary stray.
This one was human. A baby. A tiny newborn baby lay kicking and whining in the box, mounds of blankets encasing the ruddy little body.
“Well, hello there,” Ben said, glancing around to see if anyone would come out and lay claim to the infant. “How did you get here, little one?”
This time the baby’s cry grew louder, more demanding. Not sure what to do, Ben reached down and lifted the infant out of the box, careful to keep it wrapped in the protective blue blankets someone had left with it. As Ben lifted the child, a note fluttered out from the folds of the blanket.
Sweeping a hand down to catch the note, Ben held tight to the baby in his arms. “Let’s see what this says.”
Carefully Ben balanced the wiggling bundle in his arms, so he could unfold the note and read it over the cries of the baby.
“‘Reverend Ben, this is Tyler. He is one month old. I know you will take good care of him.’”
Stunned, Ben dropped the note back into the empty box, then stared blankly down at the little baby boy in his arms.
“Tyler?” The infant answered him with a lusty cry.
“You’re probably hungry…and wet,” Ben said as he shifted the child in his arms. “And I don’t have any food or diapers.” Then, in spite of his concern, he smiled. “But I certainly know someone who does.”
Sara Conroy glanced up just in time to see the tall man with the baby coming directly toward her. The man, handsome in a gentle kind of way, seemed frantic in his efforts to calm the screaming baby. Sara watched, somewhat amused, as he looked up, his incredible blue eyes latching on to her as he headed down the center of the tidy, colorful classroom. He walked carefully so as to avoid stepping on crawling toddlers in his haste.
“Where’s Maggie?” the man asked, his tone breathless in spite of the deep tremor of his voice. “I need her, right now.”
Sara raised a hand, then tossed back her shoulder-length curly red hair. “Hold on there, Daddy. What’s the problem?” Automatically she reached out to take the baby from him.
“This…” the man said, gladly handing the infant over to her. Scissoring a hand through his curly brown locks, he said, “I found him…in the church…a few minutes ago. He’s hungry—” here he wiped one hand down the side of his jeans “—and very wet.”
Spurred into action, Sara glanced over the baby in her arms. “You found him?”
Ben let out a long sigh. “Yes. Someone left him on a church pew. I heard him crying—” He stopped, his gaze shifting from the baby to Sara’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m Ben Hunter. And you must be Maggie’s replacement.”
“Sara Conroy.” She nodded, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “Calm down, Reverend. He won’t break, but we do need to check him over. And we’ll have to call social services, of course.”
“Why?” Ben watched as she gently settled the bawling baby down on a changing table, then moved her hands expertly over his little, thrashing body.
“Well, this child was obviously abandoned,” Sara explained, concern for the baby evident in her words. “We have to alert the proper authorities.” She automatically handed him a sanitized baby wipe to clean his hands.
Ben relaxed a little, then leaned into a nearby counter. “You’re right, of course. There was a note. His name is Tyler and someone seems to think I can take care of him. Is he…is everything all right?”
“I think so,” Sara said. At his doubtful look, she added, “I was a pediatric nurse back in St. Paul. He seems healthy—no fever, no signs of exposure or respiratory problems, but we should have a doctor check him out, just the same.”
Ben threw the wipe into a trash can. “I’ll call Morgan Talbot. He’s the local favorite with all the kids.”
Sara nodded. “Yes, I met Dr. Talbot just the other day.” Glancing over her shoulder to make sure the other children in her care were safe, she buzzed one of the aides. “Abby, can you bring me a warm bottle of formula from our extra supplies?” Then, while Ben called Dr. Talbot, she changed the baby’s soiled diaper and found an extra set of flannel pajamas the day-care center kept on hand in a clothes bin. “We’ll get him fed and quiet, at least. He’ll probably sleep the morning away, poor little fellow.”
After hanging up the phone, Ben watched as Sara Conroy went about her work, amazed at how calm and collected she was. Even with a baby in her arms and children pulling at her long denim skirt, she still managed to somehow keep everything under control. Within minutes, she had Abby entertaining the older children while she sat in a cane-backed rocking chair and fed little Tyler.
“You look right at home here,” he said a few minutes later as Sara laid the contented Tyler down in a nearby bassinet.
“I love children,” she said, her expression growing soft as she gazed down at the baby.
He couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked with her red hair glinting in the bright sunshine that streamed in through the big windows. She had a serene smile, and her eyes were every bit as green as a Minnesota spring, but there was something else about Sara Conroy. She had attitude. Big-city attitude. He could see it in her stance, in the way she carried herself—a little self-assured, a little hard-nosed and tough, maybe a little cynical and wary, and a whole lot weary. Sara Conroy would not take anything off anybody, he imagined.
Even a small-town minister who hadn’t quite found his footing and certainly didn’t want to part with his heart ever again.
“Well, you don’t have to stare,” Sara said, causing Ben to quickly glance away and then back, a grin on his face.
“Sorry, it’s just…you’re not from around these parts. St. Paul, did you say?”
“Yeah, but last time I checked, St. Paul women look and act pretty much the same as other women, especially when a handsome man keeps staring at them.”
He actually blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s…it’s just been one of those mornings. First, finding the baby, then finding…you. Not your typical Monday morning.”
She lifted a slanted brow. “You were expecting Maggie, right?”
He
