Meant-To-Be Baby. Lois RicherЧитать онлайн книгу.
Christian or old, doesn’t make a difference to God. ‘The Lord has set apart the redeemed for Himself. Therefore He will listen to me and answer when I call upon Him,’” she quoted. “That’s what David said in the fourth chapter of Psalms.”
“That’s a verse I need to memorize,” he murmured thoughtfully. “So often I feel like God doesn’t hear me, especially when I see the heartache and devastation in my job. To know that God always listens—that’s comforting.” He stared directly into her eyes. “I’m impressed that you can quote the Bible so easily.”
“Part and parcel of living with Tillie and Margaret.” Victoria smiled. “The Bible is an intricate part of their lives and, by association, those around them.” And you’ve failed to live up to their and your own Biblical principles. A chill ran up her spine. Soon she’d be telling him all of it—“Good night, Ben.”
“Good night.” He continued to study her for several moments. Then he awkwardly wheeled around and thumped across the oak floor, toward his room down the hall.
Victoria waited until she heard his door close before resuming her seat in the armchair, her brain whirling with questions.
How was she going to help the aunts stay at The Haven?
How was she going to raise a baby on her own, with no visible means of support? How was she going to stand seeing the disappointed looks on her aunts’ faces when she told them? She’d already caused them so much heartache when she first came here. Maybe they wouldn’t even want her anymore.
Just how much could their love endure?
Her fingers splayed over her midsection.
God, are You mad at me?
She’d just assured Ben that God always listened, but deep inside her heart, Victoria felt a void, an emptiness she’d never known before. She knew why that was. She’d disregarded the principles she’d been raised on. Maybe God was now leaving it up to her to handle having and raising this baby alone. She was no weakling, but being strong enough for that scared Victoria to her core.
* * *
The next morning, Ben savored the delicious breakfast Adele had prepared.
“Olivia and I have to get back to work,” she’d explained as she shrugged into her coat. “Since Jake plowed out the road last night to take you into the doctor this morning, we’ll get an early start. Olivia has to catch a flight to Ottawa. She works there for the military. I live in Edmonton and I have a catering job scheduled for tomorrow so I have to go, too.”
“Have a good trip,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks. Vic’s still sleeping. I left a note telling her we’ll text later.”
“I hope we see you and Mikey again, Ben,” Olivia added.
“Me, too,” he said, and meant it.
After hugging their aunts and promising to return soon, the two left. Then Jake appeared and said he’d be driving Ben to town. Conscious of his lack of mobility and wearied by the physical strain of getting in and out of the doctor’s office, Ben was glad to return to The Haven.
“The doctor said you’ll be fine?” Margaret nodded when he repeated the diagnosis of rest. “Good. You and Mikey can stay and relax.”
“Thank you. And thank you for watching him while I went into town.” He sipped his coffee, glad the boy had slept in until a few minutes ago.
“I wish the girls could have stayed a little longer.” Tillie cuddled her coffee mug in her hand. “It’s so much fun when they’re here.”
“Maybe, with the right incentive, they’ll come back.” Margaret wore a quirky smile that Ben thought was somewhat cunning.
“What’s the right incentive, Auntie?” Victoria stumbled into the kitchen, trying to smother a gigantic yawn and failing. Ben thought she looked awful.
“My dear, are you ill?” Tillie rushed to Victoria’s side and ushered her to a chair at the table. “Your face is positively gray!”
“I slept in too long. Maybe that’s why I feel a little off this morning,” Victoria admitted.
A little off? Not the way Ben would have put it.
“Coffee might help,” Margaret suggested.
Perhaps he was the only one who saw Victoria almost gag.
“I’ll wait a bit, thanks, Auntie.”
“I’m sorry if rescuing us caused you to be ill,” he apologized.
“It didn’t.” Victoria avoided looking at him. As if to divert attention from herself, she asked Mikey if he’d slept well.
“I had a good sleep,” his nephew said with a grin. “When I waked up, I saw your little light.”
“Auntie Margaret gave me that light after I came here to live.” Victoria smiled at her aunt. “I was older than you are, Mikey, but I still had bad dreams. Auntie said that when I woke up afraid, I should look at the lamp and remember that Jesus was right beside me, protecting me.”
“Like you said to me!” Mikey exclaimed. “I did an’ it worked. I didn’t get ’fraid.”
“I’m glad. Excuse me.” Victoria suddenly burst from her chair and bolted from the room.
“Oh, the poor dear.” Tillie put on the kettle. “I’ll make her some peppermint tea.”
“I’ll get some crackers.” Margaret frowned as she set the packet on the table. “The child is so thin. It’s not healthy.”
“It’s the fashion now and she’s hardly a child.” Tillie smiled as Victoria returned, looking, in Ben’s opinion, even more pasty-faced than before. “All right, dear?”
“Just a flu bug.” She studied his sling. “That doesn’t look like my work.”
“This morning, Jake drove me in to see the doctor who checked it then redid it. He said your work was very professional.” Ben couldn’t help wondering if Victoria actually heard him. She looked as if she was thinking about something else.
“That’s nice.” She smiled wanly before tearing open the crackers. “Too bad the girls had to leave.”
“Yes, it is.” Tillie exchanged what Ben thought was an odd look with her sister.
“We never had a chance to tell them our idea,” Margaret murmured.
“Your—idea?” Victoria suddenly went still. She glanced from one senior to the other before asking in a hesitant voice, “What’s your idea, Aunties?”
“To make The Haven a—a spa. Is that the word, sister?” Tillie looked to Margaret for clarification.
Ben watched Victoria’s eyes widen. She seemed to scramble for a response.
“A spa is a—good idea, Aunties,” she managed to say. “The Haven has a wonderful location. But—well, we don’t have any pools or hot tubs or mud baths or masseuses. You know,” she continued when the aunts looked confused, “the usual spa things that draw people.”
“Oh, no, dear. Spa’s the wrong word.” Tillie frowned at Margaret. “Can you explain?”
“Think retreat,” Margaret clarified. “A retreat for kids. Troubled kids. Foster kids. Like you were, Victoria.”
Ben immediately saw the potential. Acres of land for hikes to wear kids out. Wild animals to observe, room to relax and allow nature’s peace to calm tortured hearts.
“For kids?” Victoria frowned. “But there’s nothing here for kids!”
“There was for you,” Margaret reminded tartly.
“Yes,