“Sounds good.” Darius exhaled slowly, almost afraid to believe the battle was over. Because despite his disillusionment with Olivia, he still supported the good work of the maternity home.
Walcott nodded. “I’m glad we cleared the air, son. From now on, we know where we stand. The company can only benefit from that.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure of it, sir.”
Darius pushed to his feet, his determination solidifying. He’d also do his best to help Walcott stay on the straight and narrow, whenever possible.
Maybe that way this partnership could work for the both of them.
27
This little girl is doing just fine.” Dr. Henshaw removed his stethoscope and returned it to his medical bag. “All thanks to you, Olivia. You’ve done a marvelous job with her.”
His admiring regard sent warmth surging into her cheeks. She tried not to think about Darius’s claim that the doctor might have romantic feelings for her. “It’s no hardship,” she said. “I’d do anything to make sure she’s healthy and happy.”
The baby lay in one of the cribs in the nursery where Dr. Henshaw had been examining her. She waved her little fist in the air and kicked her legs. Olivia pressed her lips together to keep her emotions in check. How much more time would she have with this precious girl? To hold her, rock her, and sing her to sleep with long-remembered lullabies?
“Olivia?” Dr. Henshaw’s voice sounded near her ear. “You haven’t seemed yourself lately. Is there anything I can do?”
She gripped the crib railing. Of course she hadn’t been herself. Caring for Abigail these past weeks had brought back painful memories of having her own child taken from her. Now she was faced with losing another baby. It was only through God’s grace that she was clinging to any semblance of sanity at all.
The doctor gently turned her to face him. “Ruth tells me you’ve been spending every waking moment with the baby, to the exclusion of the other residents—even shirking your work duties. She’s worried about your emotional state,” he said quietly, “and how giving up Abigail will affect you.”
Raw grief scraped the back of her throat. “Why did you have to call Children’s Aid? Why couldn’t you have left matters alone? Then Abigail could have stayed with me.” Her voice broke, and her whole body began to shake. The tears she’d been valiantly trying to suppress burst forth in a torrent.
The doctor’s arms came around her, and she wept against his chest, reluctantly accepting the comfort he offered. When she was finally able to collect herself, she stepped away from him.
“I’m so sorry, Olivia.” He handed her a handkerchief, regret blooming in his eyes. “I know it might seem unfeeling, but I did what I’m required to. Though I hate that it’s causing you such pain.”
“It’s not fair.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I could give Abigail a good home with all the love she would ever need. She wouldn’t be lacking for anything.”
“Except a father,” he said. “And maybe brothers and sisters.” His earnest hazel eyes met hers. “Don’t you think she deserves that?”
Her thoughts flew back to her family’s crowded apartment over the store. Yes, her brothers were annoying and obnoxious at times, but together they’d created many wonderful memories, ones she wouldn’t trade for anything. “I suppose you’re right.”
“And if you were honest, you’d admit this wouldn’t be the ideal place to raise a child.”
Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t want to hear the truth in his words. “I don’t know if I have the strength to go through this again.” She reached over to straighten the baby’s blanket. “Can you think of any possible way for me to keep her?”
Dr. Henshaw glanced at the baby cooing contentedly, then his gaze grew serious. “If I had no other obligations, I’d consider marrying you so you could adopt Abigail, but right now that’s not an option.” He gave a rueful shrug. “I don’t know if Ruth told you, but I’ve been raising my younger brother ever since our parents died.”
“She did mention that. I’m so sorry about your parents.” Why had she never bothered to ask about his personal life? He seemed so polished, so confident. Yet he’d experienced tragedy too.
“Thank you. Unfortunately, my brother’s been having a hard time coping, and it wouldn’t be fair to add any more upheaval to his life.”
“Of course not. It’s kind of you to even suggest it, Dr. Henshaw, but I could never let you do that.”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “Don’t you think it’s time you called me Mark? At least in private? I think of you as a friend, not merely a patient or colleague.”
She gave a small laugh. “Very well. Thank you, Mark.”
“I’ll continue to ask God to provide Abigail with a good home,” he said. “I have to believe that no matter what happens, it will be in her best interest.”
“I pray you’re right.” She looked down at the tiny being, so helpless and vulnerable. “I’d do anything to protect her. Anything to have the privilege of being her mother.”
“I know you would.” Mark snapped his bag closed. “It’s not much, but I’ll do what I can to stall Mrs. Linder and give you a little more time before you have to say good-bye.”
A lump of emotion lodged in her throat, and all she could do was nod.
Mark paused to pat her shoulder before he let himself out of the nursery.
Unable to sleep, Darius sat in his mother’s dark kitchen, his head in his hands. A ribbon of moonlight shone from the window over the sink, providing the only illumination in the room. He’d come down from his overly warm bedroom, but the change in scenery had done nothing to ease the torturous thoughts plaguing him. Thoughts of Olivia and her shocking past.
He still couldn’t fathom that she’d been pregnant and had a child. And been disowned by her family because of it. Her fiancé,
