Ben's Bundle of Joy. Lenora Worth

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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

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