A Test of Faith Read online

  “Maybe you could give her something. Some medication to ease the pain—”

  “No.” Anne wasn’t sure they’d understood the word, coming out as it did on a groan. “No … medication.”

  “Annie—”

  She shook her head at Jared. “No. I want to do this right, without drugs. I want …” She brushed a hand over her face. “God will bring us through this.”

  Her husband allowed himself a small frown, but Anne didn’t have the energy to say any more.

  Jared slanted a look at the nurse. “Is it normal for labor to go on this long? For her to be hurting so much?”

  Through a growing haze, Anne pondered his questions. Odd, but suddenly the pain wasn’t so bad. In fact, she hardly felt anything.

  “She’s having a baby, Mr. Bennett.” Anne felt herself smile at the nurse’s wry observation. “Pain is an unavoidable part of that process.”

  Jared’s voice grew a tad testy. “I realize that, Nurse. But she’s been in labor almost twenty-four hours. I’m concerned she can’t take this much longer. Look at her. She’s exhausted.”

  No arguments there. Good thing she was finally going to sleep. She must be. Why else would the room be growing so dark?

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett, but until the doctor—”

  A shrill beeping sounded someplace in the distance, piercing Anne’s ears, setting her nerves on edge. She wanted to ask the nurse to turn the thing off so she could sleep, but her tongue wouldn’t cooperate. She wanted to look for the woman, but her eyes were shut. When had she closed them?

  It didn’t really matter, though, because everyone else seemed to be speaking at once. A clutter of unfamiliar voices flew all around her.

  “She’s crashing!”

  “The baby’s heartbeat is dropping!”

  “Get the doctor in here!”

  “What’s happening?”

  The last voice Anne recognized. Jared. But she’d never heard him sound like that before. Alarmed.

  Frightened.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett. You’ll have to go to the waiting room.”

  “Why?”

  “We have to get your wife into surgery.”

  Another voice broke in behind Anne. “Come on! Move! We’re losing them!”

  Suddenly Anne was moving. She wanted to tell Jared not to worry, but it was as though everything—her arms and legs, her head, even the sheet over her—weighed a ton. They pulled her down … down…

  She managed to pry her eyes open, spotting her husband just before they took her from the room. His face was so pale.

  Don’t worry, Jared. I’m fine…

  Had she said it out loud? She wasn’t certain. All she knew was that the darkness was growing stronger. And she was too tired to fight it.

  With a sigh, she let her eyelids lower and surrendered, welcoming the inky blackness as it enfolded her, drawing her, at long last, into blessed, peaceful nothingness.

  two

  “[God] saves us in our disasters, not from them.”

  ROBERT FARRAR CAPON

  JARED PRESSED HIS ACHING EYES, GRATEFUL FOR THE darkness around him.

  “God, please … let them be okay.”

  He was glad he was alone in the hospital chapel. Leaning his forehead on the pew in front of him, he drew in a shuddering sigh.

  He couldn’t get it out of his mind. His last sight of Annie. How pale she’d been. How she couldn’t keep her eyes open. How the doctors and nurses had rushed around, alarm in their every feature and movement. And then those terrible words…

  “Move it! We’re losing them!”

  No matter how he tried to block them out, they kept playing over and over in his mind until he thought he’d go mad.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. They were having a baby, not facing some dire illness or surgery. They were supposed to be sitting together, staring down at the miracle they’d created.

  The baby was a girl. Jared was sure of it. She’d be a tiny replica of Annie, and every time he looked at their little girl, he’d see his wife’s beautiful moss green eyes and sweet smile.

  His throat constricted. Would he ever see that beautiful smile again?

  “Mr. Bennett?”

  He started, then stood and faced the doorway. A nurse stood there, her eyes somber. “Mr. Bennett, we’ve been looking for you.”

  Jared was almost afraid to ask. “Is my wife …?” He couldn’t make himself say what he feared. “Is she okay?” Please…

  The nurse’s expression didn’t change. “You need to come with me.”

  Jared put a hand on the doorjamb, steadying himself. How was he going to survive without her? How could he face a moment, let alone a lifetime, without his Annie?

  A touch on his arm startled him, and he looked to find the nurse peering at him. “Please, just come with me.”

  He followed her, focusing on her brisk stride, her sturdy shoes, the whiteness of her uniform—anything but what lay ahead.

  The nurse came to a doorway and stopped, signaling him in. Jared hesitated.

  I can’t … I can’t.

  “Mr. Bennett, your wife—”

  He put a hand out, halting her. He couldn’t let her say it. Couldn’t stand to hear the words. He shook his head and moved into the room.

  Annie lay on the bed, the sheet pulled up to her chin. He drank in the sight of her, knowing it would have to last him forever. He walked forward.

  She looked like she was asleep. If only that were true! If only she were lying there sleeping rather than dea—

  “Jared?”

  His breath caught in his throat, almost choking him. He stared. Rubbed his eyes. Stared again.

  Annie’s eyes—those beautiful, tender eyes—were open.

  He lowered himself into the chair beside the bed, took her hands in his, and pressed them to his cheeks, covering them in kisses.

  “Thank God!”

  “Jared—” her words were slurred, as though she was heavily medicated—“I asked them to bring you here. I didn’t want anyone else to tell you …”

  The relief that had surged through him at the sight of her open eyes suddenly fled. The baby. Oh dear heaven, I forgot about the baby. Had they lost her?

  “Jared, we have a daughter.”

  For the second time in a matter of minutes, relief so intense it was almost painful filled him. Annie reached to the opposite side of the bed. A bassinet stood there, and he could barely see the tiny bundle inside.

  “Sweetheart, come meet your little girl.”

  Trembling, he walked around the bed and reached down to lift the sleeping infant with reverent care. His daughter. This was his daughter.

  Cradling their child in the crook of his arm, he moved back to sit beside his wife. “Annie, she’s beautiful.”

  No response. A quick look told him his wife was asleep, her breathing deep and even. Jared smiled. He touched a finger to his baby’s cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. Just then, she opened her eyes.

  Jared blinked, and suddenly his eyes were awash again. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He tried again and managed a raspy, “Well, hello there, little one.” He grimaced, hoping the ragged sound of his voice didn’t frighten her.

  It didn’t. She stretched and yawned again.

  “Long day, huh?” He grinned and settled back in the chair. “Me, too. But everything’s okay now because you’re here.” He glanced at the bed. “And since Mommy’s sleeping, what say you and I get to know each other? Hmm?”

  His baby blinked up at him with beautiful eyes. Annie’s eyes. Emotion gripped Jared’s throat in a velvet vise. “You’re a beauty, you know that?”

  Just like her mother. The first time Jared saw Annie, he was lost. Captured forever by the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her auburn hair formed a soft cap of curls framing a lovely, heart-shaped face. Her sweet mouth and wonderful green eyes could make the sun shine on the darkest of days. It was no surprise to him that she was
voted homecoming queen their senior year in college, and though she barely stood five-foot-four, her bearing was pure royalty.

  He was pulled from his memories by a soft sound as the infant in his arms gurgled. She reached out and wrapped her tiny, perfect hand around Jared’s finger. In that moment he knew, for the second time in his life … he was lost. Nothing would ever be the same.

  Not ever.

  Funny thing was, he didn’t mind. Not one little bit.

  Anne opened her eyes, blinking at the bright room. Where was she?

  “Hi, there.”

  Gentle fingers brushed her cheek, and she turned her head. Jared. She gave a sleep-dazed sigh and took in the sight of him.

  He looked terrible.

  His hair looked as though someone had tried to style it with a demented weed whacker. His eyes were bloodshot, his face sagging from fatigue.

  But he was smiling. A big, broad smile that made her want to smile, too. “What …?” The words caught in her dry throat, and Jared pressed a wet cloth to her lips. She smiled at him and tried again. “What happened to you?”

  His tender laugh warmed her. “You, sweet girl. You happened to me.”

  “Hmm.” She thought about that. “Looks like it hurt.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Yeah, but it’s a good pain.” He pressed her hand to his stubble-roughened cheek. “You gave us a beautiful little girl, Annie.”

  A daughter. Anne hugged herself at the news. A little girl to love and guide and share the world with. She could hardly take it in.

  “Our little Faith Adelle is finally here.”

  Faith Adelle. They’d chosen the name within days of finding out Anne was pregnant—Joshua Aaron, if it was a boy; Faith Adelle if it was a girl. Faith, because God had answered their prayers; Adelle, to remind them to raise her to have a noble and kind spirit.

  “She’s okay, isn’t she?” Anne knew the baby was fine, but she needed to hear it from him.

  He chuckled, a glow of pure happiness lighting his features. “She’s more than okay. She’s wonderful.”

  “And she’s eager to see her mommy again.”

  They both turned. A nurse stood in the doorway of the room.

  She smiled at them, and Anne’s focus shifted to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms. Without another word, the woman came into the room and handed the bundle to Anne. “You did good, Mom.”

  Anne looked onto the delicate face, the long lashes sweeping down to caress plump, velvety cheeks. She reached out to touch the puckered mouth, then lifted one tiny baby fist to study the miniature fingers. “Look at all that hair!”

  The nurse nodded. “Amazing, isn’t it? Most babies are born bald as my grandfather, but this little one had enough hair we could even put a bow in it!”

  She pushed the blanket back so Anne could see the little pink bow clipped to Faith’s dark auburn hair. “The nurses all agree; she’s one of the most adorable babies we’ve ever seen.”

  Just then, Faith’s eyes opened and Anne found herself staring into her baby’s eyes. Her baby. This was her baby!

  Emotion flooded her heart until she thought it would overwhelm her. Speechless, she lifted the downy head to her cheek and felt the soft, wispy hair.

  “She’s amazing.” Her hushed words brought smiles to Jared’s and the nurse’s faces.

  “She is that.” The nurse tucked the blanket under Faith’s tiny chin. “And I’ll tell you somethin’, this little lady has a mind of her own. She wanted to be born, and she wasn’t waiting for anything or anyone.”

  Anne cuddled her daughter against her and looked from Jared to the nurse. “What happened?”

  The nurse eased into a nearby chair. “Your labor wasn’t progressing; you remember that?”

  Did she ever! Anne nodded.

  “We were about to call the doctor to check things out when you and the baby decided it was time to get things over with. Now. You both went into distress.”

  Anne looked at Jared. “Distress?”

  He took one of her hands, holding it like he’d never let go. “Your blood pressure dropped, Annie, and the baby’s heartbeat slowed. I thought I was losing you both.”

  The memory of his frightened face came to her then. “Oh, Jared. I’m so sorry.”

  The nurse stood, patting Anne on the shoulder. “You gave us all a scare. We’re still not quite sure what happened, but all’s well that ends well, isn’t that what they say?” She beamed down at Faith. “You and this little girl made it through in fine shape. God definitely had His hand on you both.”

  Anne couldn’t hold back a smile. “Yes, He certainly did.”

  “And now it’s time for you to spend a little time with your daughter, getting to know her.” She nodded to Jared. “I need you to come with me to fill out a few more forms.”

  Jared nodded and stood to follow her. He leaned over, brushing a soft kiss across Anne’s forehead. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Hurry back.” She smiled, watching them leave the room, then looked back down at her baby and caught her breath.

  Faith was looking right at her, and Anne had the sense of the whole earth shifting beneath her.

  Her baby’s wide, innocent eyes were the greatest source of wonder Anne had ever known. She’d thought about this moment for so long, but now that it was here, it was so much more than she could have imagined.

  “Oh, Faith—” Anne kissed her daughter’s sweet-smelling skin—“I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”

  It was true. Anne’s earliest memories were of helping her mother care for her little brother. All she’d ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. To shower the same love and devotion on her own children that her mother had given her. And she’d always hoped for a daughter. A little one to talk with and play with, to teach about life and God, to show all the joys and wonders of being a little girl.

  Anne looked again at her daughter’s beautiful baby hair. Thank heaven Faith inherited her father’s genes in the hair department. Anne had always bemoaned the fact that her hair was too fine to do much with. But Faith, she would have full, thick hair. Anne was sure of it.

  And she was sure of something more. The nurse had been right. God had her little girl in His hands. He’d known Faith from before the time she was born, and He’d chosen to give this precious girl to them. That was an honor almost beyond comprehension.

  And a responsibility.

  The weight of that truth settled on Anne’s shoulders like a heavy mantle, cloaking her with the powerful awareness that she would do whatever it took to ensure this little one grew up safe and strong, physically and spiritually. Anne tightened her hold on her daughter and met the infant’s steady gaze.

  “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

  “You mean we’ll take care of her, don’t you?”

  Anne smiled up at Jared as he sat next to the bed. She leaned her forehead against his. “Of course. We’ll take care of her.”

  Jared slid an arm around Anne. “You and me and God, Annie.” He squeezed her. “What a time we’re gonna have with this little girl.”

  Anne nestled against him, savoring his closeness and the feel of their daughter snuggled between them. Amen, Lord. She smiled. Let it be so.

  three

  “If we could only know what was going on in a baby’s mind.”

  JEAN PIAGET

  ANNE WANTED TO SCREAM.

  She clamped her lips together, holding back the frustration clawing at her, drawing her hands into tight fists.

  What was wrong with her? Drawing in a breath of sheer determination, Anne went to the nursery and walked to the side of the crib. She would try one more time.

  “Please, Faith …”

  The baby looked up at Anne’s whisper, and her tiny fists and feet bounced in the air. The colorful collection of Winnie-the-Pooh characters danced from the mobile hanging over Faith’s crib, as though they, too, were delighted to see Anne. That was something, anyway. Anne
knew Faith was always happy to see her, always excited when she came into the room. If only that were enough.

  Steeling herself, Anne reached down to lift her baby from the crib. Keeping her movements slow and cautious, she drew Faith closer, closer…

  So far, so good.

  Easing her breath out on a sigh, Anne cradled Faith in her arms and cuddled her close. Please, baby…

  She’d pleaded, cajoled—even prayed. But it only took a second for Anne to know it was all for naught. The moment she nestled her infant daughter against her, Faith stiffened. Anne knew what was coming. The same thing that had happened every time she tried to cuddle her little girl close. Whether here at home, at the church nursery, or at Bible study, the result was the same: Faith’s little arms shot out and her fists planted themselves firmly against Anne’s collarbone, pushing her mother away.

  Just like they did now.

  “Fine!” Anne choked on the angry word, her throat constricted with the hurt that wrapped itself around her like barbed wire. She laid Faith back in her crib. “Fine! Just … just—” Anne kicked out, sending one of Faith’s stuffed animals flying—“fine!”

  “Whoa, Annie!”

  She spun around. Jared was in the doorway, holding the stuffed animal. His lopsided grin held a tinge of concern. “First time I’ve ever been nailed with an elephant.”

  “Ohhh …” Anne shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jared.”

  He came to stand beside her. “What’s wrong, hon?”

  Anne couldn’t hold back the hurt any longer. “What’s wrong with me? Babies love to cuddle with their mothers. It’s the most natural thing in the world for every other baby!” She paced in front of the crib. “Am I some kind of monster?”

  Jared couldn’t have been more astonished if she’d sprouted wings and laid an egg on his shoe. “Of course not, Annie. You’re a wonderful mother.”

  “Well, tell her that!” Anne knew how childish she sounded, but she couldn’t help it. She rubbed her fist at the sudden tears running down her cheeks.