Cradle and All by M. J. Rodgers Read Free Book Online Page A

“Maureen?”
    Maureen reached the door and turned to face her. “Yes?”
    “Thanks for caring to ask,” she said.
    Maureen studied her silently for a moment. “He didn’t get any sleep, either, Anne.”
    Anne’s pulse jumped. “He?”
    “The baby. Unless there’s another ‘he’ you’re interested in?”
    “How do you know the baby didn’t sleep?” Anne asked, pointedly ignoring Maureen’s question.
    “It’s a small village,” Maureen replied. “People around here help out when problems arise. Several women took turns dropping by the rectory last night, but none of them could stop the little guy from crying.”
    Anne felt the chill of the cold morning seeping through her nightgown. The coffee hadn’t helped much, after all. She wrapped her arms around her chest.
    How long could a baby go without rest?
    “Phyl and Lori insist you’re the only one he responds to,” Maureen said. “Is that true?”
    “When does the church open?” Anne asked.
    “The Church of the Good Shepherd is always open,” Maureen said. “And services will be starting soon. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to drive you over.”
    Before Anne could even think about reconsidering, Maureen was gone.
    “Damn it,” Anne muttered as she pulled off her nightgown and rushed toward the shower. “I do not want to see Tom Christen again.”
    Maybe if she said it loud enough, she might even start believing it.
    * * *
    T HE VILLAGE CHURCH was packed for Sunday service. Farming families from miles around had come to join their neighbors in Cooper’s Corner. Anne sat in the front pew next to Maureen. She wore a tailored blouse of deep blue, with slacks to match.
    To Tom, she looked even lovelier than she had that first morning he saw her. Because this morning she had come to cradle a tiny, exhausted baby in her arms, no matter what she thought of its father.
    And what she thought of Tom showed crystal clear in the frozen gray pools of her eyes.
    Lent was the time to read scriptures full of the message of sacrifice. But as Tom stood in the pulpit and gazed down on Anne and the marvel of the sleeping baby in her arms, he found a far different message forming on his lips.
    “The first Bible class I ever taught was made up of five-and six-year-olds,” Tom began. “I had no idea how to explain scripture to them in terms they would understand. I decided maybe the best thing to do was to start with a question. So I asked them if they knew where God was.
    “A thin girl with black braids told me that God was in the rain that made her grandmother’s thirsty tomato plants grow. A boy with no front teeth lisped that God hung out under his bed, keeping the monsters away. A chubby-faced boy said he knew for a fact that God stayed in the pantry protecting the small brown mouse that his mother was always trying to trap. And, finally, a shy girl, barely five, leaned forward and whispered to me that she had seen God in her daddy’s smile.”
    Tom paused to enjoy the soft murmur of appreciation flowing through the congregation before he continued. “Jesus said that unless we become as little children, we will not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. His words made a lot of sense to me after listening to those little kids. They saw God everywhere they looked because that’s where they knew God would be.”
    Tom gazed down into Anne’s eyes—now a soft, warm velvet and staring directly into his own. “Finding heaven is as simple as opening our eyes and seeing with our hearts. That’s what the little children in that Bible class taught me.”
    * * *
    A NNE WAITED IN the parish hall while Tom said goodbye to the last of his parishioners. Maureen had driven back to the B and B. Anne planned to walk back later. Right now she was thankful for a moment alone to try to sort through her emotions.
    The message in Tom’s story had sneaked past all her defenses and touched her heart. She’d never met a man before who could freely admit to being taught by