Pamela Bauer - Bachelor Father

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.”

“I’M LOOKING FOR Megan Novak. She was admitted early this morning,” Adam told the woman at the hospital reception desk. “I’m her father.”

He wondered why it should still feel awkward to identify himself as a parent. Maybe because his relationship with Megan still felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t expected her to rush into his arms and call him Daddy the first time they’d met. After all, she’d been told she didn’t have a father, a fact that still caused the hair on his neck to rise. He’d missed out on six years of Megan’s life because of Christie’s decision not to tell him she’d had his child.

And he knew that if it hadn’t been for a tragedy, chances were he still wouldn’t know he had a daughter. Adam didn’t understand why, after going through so much trouble to keep Megan’s existence a secret, Christie had named him as her legal guardian in the will. He probably would never know, but the reason was of no consequence at this point. What mattered was that Christie had ensured that, in the event of her death, Megan would have someone who was able to take care of her. He was that someone.

While the lawyers had worked out the legal details of guardianship, Megan had stayed in the small town of Silver Bay in the house she’d shared with her mother and her uncle. She’d said very little to Adam when they finally met for the first time, regarding him suspiciously as she clung to Tom Anderson’s side. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that she would want to live with the uncle she’d known all of her life rather than with a father who was a stranger to her.