by Lois Richer
A soldier or a father?
Maybe he can be both in this Rocky Mountain Haven story
Pregnant and abandoned, Victoria Archer’s focused on helping with her aunts’ foster outreach program—not finding love. But there’s something undeniably charming about Major Ben Adams. Certain he’s not suited for fatherhood, Ben’s searching for a loving home for his recently orphaned nephew. But could he, Victoria and her unborn baby be the little boy’s perfect family?
Victoria’s hand touched her stomach fleetingly.
“You still haven’t told your aunts.” It wasn’t a question.
“Don’t,” she begged quietly, and when it seemed Ben would argue, she turned her attention to Mikey. “Very nice,” she encouraged, hugging his tiny body close for a second before he wiggled away.
“C’n I ski?” he asked suddenly. “’Cause a boy in church tole me he skis with other kids an’ he ’vited me. Maybe he could be my friend?” he said wistfully.
“What a good idea.” Victoria looked at Ben and found him studying her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. “Don’t you think?” she prodded.
“Uh, yeah. Skiing. Sure.” Ben’s gaze held hers for a second, then settled on Mikey. “We could do that, I guess.”
Mikey ran around the room, cheering. Victoria stayed put, staring at her hands, unsettled by the expression she’d seen on Ben’s face and her response to it.
He was a great guy. She liked him a lot. But there could be nothing between them but friendship. She was going to be a mom.
And soon Ben would leave.
Lois Richer loves traveling, swimming and quilting, but mostly she loves writing stories that show God’s boundless love for His precious children. As she says, “His love never changes or gives up. It’s always waiting for me. My stories feature imperfect characters learning that love doesn’t mean attaining perfection. Love is about keeping on keeping on.” You can contact Lois via email, [email protected], or on Facebook (loisricherauthor).
Books by Lois Richer
Love Inspired
Rocky Mountain Haven
Meant-to-Be Baby
Wranglers Ranch
The Rancher’s Family Wish
Her Christmas Family Wish
The Cowboy’s Easter Family Wish
The Twins’ Family Wish
Family Ties
A Dad for Her Twins
Rancher Daddy
Gift-Wrapped Family
Accidental Dad
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MEANT-TO-BE BABY
Lois Richer
And we know that all things work together for good to them who love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
—Romans 8:28
This book is dedicated to Dorothea, who always believed God would make a way.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Deputy’s Unexpected Family by Patricia Johns
Chapter One
“We have to do something.” Victoria Archer cradled her mug against her cheek and surveyed her two younger foster sisters. “This time, we were able to run home in time to help Aunt Tillie and Margaret clean up from that burst pipe. But what happens if—when—they have another emergency and none of us can make it back so fast?”
“It is January in the Canadian Rockies,” Adele agreed in a gloomy tone. “And they’re predicting a storm. If the aunties had an accident—”
“Or got sick.” The awful thought silenced Olivia for a moment. “So what do we do?”
“I need to think about it.” Victoria rose. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Still proving you’re tough enough to take whatever comes, huh?” Olivia shook her head. “Even the weather, Vic?”
“I always think better when I walk,” Victoria defended.
“Wait. How’d you get here so fast, Victoria?” Adele studied her intently. “You live in Vancouver. When we spoke two days ago, you were settling some issue with a hotel in Toronto. Suddenly today you’re here.”
Time for the truth.
“Toronto was a simple fix and my last job with Strenga Hotels. I’ve taken a leave of absence from them. And Derek. He and I broke up.” She hurried on. “I don’t want to talk about that except to say that I’m now free to stay here at The Haven to help the aunts.”
Avoiding their compassionate looks, Victoria pulled her gear off a wall hook: a white parka with a fur-trimmed hood, a thick red scarf, warm double-knit red mittens and knee-high insulated boots. Once dressed, she whistled for Spot and Dot, the two springer spaniels her foster aunts had rescued from a puppy mill three years ago. A glance at her sisters’ worried faces made her smile.
“I really am okay. How about some of your scrumptious chicken potpie for supper, Chef Adele?” she suggested as she grasped the doorknob, eager to escape their pity.
“Perfect for a stormy day.” Her sister began pulling out ingredients. “Be careful, Sis.”
“Always. See you later.” Victoria tucked her cell phone in her pocket and switched on the outside lights before leaving the big stone manor by the back door. The glow of the antique lanterns around The Haven chased away late afternoon shadows and lit a corresponding warmth inside her.
Home. Exhilaration bumped up her heart rate. Home. No Derek to consider. No pressing issue to tear her away from this glorious place. Well, there was that one huge issue looming…
The buffeting wind and whirling snowflakes turned the mountain foothills into a massive snow globe and ended her doubts. She loved The Haven. Her foster aunts’ huge estate encompassed their massive stone home and acres of foothills and forest with the majestic tips of the Canadian Rocky Mountains in the distance.
Victoria smiled as the dogs bounded through the snowbanks, in and out of the spruce trees lining the driveway, chasing each other in circles but always returning to check on her before racing off again.
Yet despite the beauty surrounding her, thoughts of the future plagued Victoria. At the moment, her only certainty was that she would not return to the hotel chain that had employed her for five years. Her leave of absence would be permanent. There was nothing and no one there for her anymore. Derek had made that perfectly clear when she told him she was pregnant with his child.
“You’re the famous fixer, Victoria. You’ve built a reputation in the hotel business by resolving issues with unhappy guests, broken reservation systems, under-functioning staff and a whole lot more. So handle this. Without me.”
And when Victoria said she was keeping the baby, he’d dumped her. It took Derek less than a week to find a new romantic love.
So be it. Now her future would include single motherhood.
Scared, ashamed, embarrassed, worried—those emotions didn’t begin to cover her wildly swinging feelings. But they weren’t all negative. Wonder, amazement, a secret inner—was joy the right word to describe how amazed she was by the thought of becoming a mom?
Unable to make sense of her topsy-turvy reactions and still unsure of how she was going to support herself and her child, Victoria’s tho
ughts veered to the immediate problem. What to do about the aunts. Moving Tillie and Margaret from The Haven, the home where they’d lived since retiring from the mission field twenty-five years ago, away from the friends they cherished and the land they adored—it was unthinkable. But how could they stay?
Lost in thought, Victoria finally roused to the dogs’ frenzied barking. When they didn’t return despite repeated calls, she knew something was wrong. She stopped to listen, trying to pinpoint their yelps through the whistling wind.
Over there. She climbed a steep hill, reached the summit, gazed around her and then caught her breath. The dogs stood guard beside—a child?
While she descended the hill, Victoria tried to fathom out the situation. She saw no adult, no vehicle, nothing to indicate where the child had come from. When she got closer, she realized the child was a young boy, and he was crying.
“Hello,” she asked, squatting beside him. “I’m Victoria. Are you hurt?”
“Those dogs bited me,” he sobbed and held up his arm to show her a tiny tear in the fabric of his snowsuit. “They won’t let me help Unca Ben.”
Victoria rose, searched the snowy scape before her but saw nothing.
“Where is Uncle Ben, sweetie?” she asked, trying to conceal her concern.
“Over there. He got hurted.” The child pointed to the roadside but still Victoria saw only mounds of snow.
“What’s your name?”
“Mikey,” he sniffed and rubbed one mitten over his tear-covered cheek. “Those bad dogs won’t let me help Unca Ben. They bited me,” he repeated angrily.
“They were only trying to keep you safe. Spot and Dot won’t hurt you.” He clearly didn’t believe her so Victoria sought to ease his fear by grasping his hand. “We want to help you and Uncle Ben, but I can’t see him. Can you show me where he is?”
Mikey glared at the dogs so she gave a command. Immediately they sat and waited. Mikey studied them suspiciously for several more moments.
“Okay.” He finally relented as he looked at her. “But after we help Unca Ben, can I have a drink? I’m thirsty.”
“Sure you can, sweetie.” She patted his hand. “So, where’s your uncle?”
“Down there.” He walked a few steps before pointing downward.
Victoria had to peer through the gloom and whirling snow for several moments before she finally spotted the barely discernible fender of a white car that had clearly slipped off the road, down the embankment and into the forest. Its hood was crushed against a massive pine tree which also pinned the driver’s door closed.
“Good man, Mikey.” There was no signal on her phone. Frowning, Victoria spied a sheltered indentation in the rock face and led the boy there, figuring that since he was dressed warmly, he’d be okay for a bit. “You stay here, out of the wind. Don’t try to follow me,” she ordered firmly. “I’ll go talk to Uncle Ben then come back.”
Mikey frowned. “He’s sleepin’ an’ he won’t wake up.”
Unconscious? Victoria’s heart sank but praying was a habit she developed long ago. Lord? Even after what I’ve done, are You still with me?
“I’ll check on him but you still have to stay here, Mikey.”
“But what if a dinosaur comes? Or a crocodile?” he asked in a scared voice. “Or a bear?” He was so cute.
“Bears sleep in wintertime, honey. And crocodiles and dinosaurs don’t live anywhere near these mountains,” she promised. “Anyway, Spot and Dot won’t let any animals get near you.”
“Sure?” Mikey frowned when she nodded. “I don’t like those biting dogs.” He glared at them as he rubbed his arm.
“They didn’t bite you, honey. They just grabbed on to your coat, to keep you safe. They’re your friends, just like me. Understand?”
Mikey did not look convinced but finally, he nodded.
“I promise I’ll hurry as fast as I can.” After reassuring him again, Victoria slipped and slid her way down the embankment. Every so often, she called encouragements to Mikey and reminded him to stay put. She’d call for help as soon as she’d assessed the situation, after she checked on Uncle Ben. But she’d have to climb higher because there was no cell phone signal down here, either.
The car’s rear passenger door hung open. Probably how Mikey escaped. After ensuring that the vehicle was firmly wedged and would not move, Victoria swept away the snow and peered inside. A very good-looking man, in a military haircut that emphasized his strong jaw, lay sprawled in the driver’s seat with the airbag deployed around him. A bleeding gash marred his forehead, probably where he’d bashed into the cracked side window. He wore a dark fleece sweatshirt and jeans. His unzipped blue jacket looked new. She yanked open the front passenger door.
“Sir?” He didn’t answer. Glad of the first-aid courses her employers had insisted she complete, Victoria quickly checked his vitals. All good. “Uncle Ben?”
He groaned, shifted slightly. Thick brown lashes lifted slowly until big blue eyes met hers.
“Hello.” The slurred words were accompanied by a faint smile.
“I’m Victoria Archer. You went off the road. Do you remember?”
“No. Yes.” He shook his head, winced and then whispered frantically, “Mikey! Where’s Mikey?”
“He’s safe. My dogs are guarding him.”
“Mikey hates dogs.” Ben licked his lips. “A year ago, one bit him.”
“That explains it.” At his questioning look, she shook her head. “Never mind. Other than the cut on your forehead, are you okay?”
“Lemme check.” Ben closed his eyes as he completed a series of movements. Then he looked at her, his face grim as he listed his injuries. “Left arm’s bruised but not broken. Ankle’s wrenched. My ribs are probably going to bruise and my head hurts where I hit it. And my door’s stuck.”
“It’s jammed against the tree. You’ll have to get out on this side.” She studied the situation. “Can you move?”
“Barely, but so what?” he asked gruffly. “You’re too small to help me.”
Too small. Fire sprang to life inside Victoria. She’d heard that all her life and she still hated it. As if her brainpower depended on her height.
“I’m strong, I’m smart and I can help you,” she said, ignoring an inner flutter of appreciation for his blue eyes. “If you can get out.”
“I’ve got a good sixty pounds on you,” Ben grumbled, easing off his seat belt. “Even if I do get out, you can’t support me, and I doubt I can walk, especially uphill.”
“First let’s see what we’re dealing with,” she said, reining in her temper. “Then I’ll phone Jake, our hired hand, for help.”
“Why not call a tow truck?” Ben clenched his jaw as he eased his body across the seat.
“Wouldn’t do any good.” Victoria tried to move his injured foot but knew from his sudden indrawn breath that it was less painful for him to do it himself. “In a storm like this, the Alberta Ministry of Transportation concentrates on ensuring the main roads in and out of Jasper and our nearest town, Chokecherry Hollow, are navigable. The Haven is always last on their plow-out list because we’re the only ones who live along this road. Doesn’t matter though because Jake usually has us plowed out long before they arrive. But that won’t be for a while. It’s coming down pretty heavily now.”
“Huh.” Ben was almost free when she suddenly realized there was no place except a snowbank for him to sit.
“Wait. Feeling okay?”
“Peachy,” he shot back in a grumpy tone.
“Good.” She grinned at his dour glance. “Stay here, on this passenger seat. Close the door to keep warm. Rest for a few minutes while I go call Jake and check on Mikey.”
“Good idea.” Ben grunted his assent, his tanned face strained. “Kid’s probably starving. It’s a while since we ate.”
“Not a problem.” She closed the car door. So where did Uncle Ben get a tan like that, at this time of year, in Canada? He sure didn’t get his tan from a bottle like Aunt Tillie
did because Uncle Ben’s skin was too evenly darkened, the deep color almost burned in. Maybe he was a skier?
Victoria told herself to forget her building questions about the guy as she climbed vertically, grasping twigs and rocks to help in her ascent. Mikey was where she’d left him, still glaring at the dogs.
“I found Uncle Ben,” she said, puffing a little. “He’s got a sore arm and leg. I need to phone someone to come help us.”
“’Cause Unca Ben’s really big,” Mikey agreed, brown eyes huge.
“He sure is.” She chuckled. “Are you warm enough?”
“Uh-huh. ’Fore we comed here, Unca Ben buyed me this coat and snow pants. They gots feathers in ’em.”
“Like the birds, huh? Only you don’t fly.” Mikey looked confused by her silliness. “Good for Uncle Ben.” She fished a granola bar out of her pocket and held it out. “Want to munch on this?” He nodded eagerly, took it and ripped off the paper. “Don’t give any to the dogs,” she warned and then almost laughed at his dubious expression. As if that was likely. “You stay here. I’m going to climb higher.”
“Why?” Mikey asked, his mouth full.
“Because that’s where my phone works. Don’t move. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Victoria’s heart pinched when his lips trembled.
“It’s gettin’ dark,” Mikey whispered. “I don’t like dark. Bad things happen in dark.”
What was that about?
“Good thing I brought my flashlight.” Victoria showed the boy how to turn on her tiny pocket light and got his agreement to remain. Then she began her ascent.
Years of living in the Canadian Rockies and hours spent rock-wall climbing at a city gym meant Victoria had no difficulty scaling to the top. It took several moments to get a signal, but Jake was quick to answer and promised to help after he’d notified her family to prepare for guests.
“Bring the usual rescue gear,” Victoria suggested. “Add a toboggan and some extra ropes, too. I doubt he can walk very far. We’ll have to pull him up. I’ll leave my scarf on a tree as a marker.”