His Bundle of Love

Patricia Davids

“Stay with Beth. Watch over her for me.”

Mick patted her hand. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

Nodding, Caitlin whispered, “Thank you,” and watched him hurry out the door.

The nurse beside her claimed her attention. “Are you allergic to any medication?” Caitlin shook her head at each question the nurse fired at her. The room grew dark around the edges.

So this was what it was like to die. She wanted to cry because she knew what would happen to her daughter—she’d be thrust into the foster-care system as she’d been. It wasn’t fair.

“Is the man who came in with you the baby’s father?”

Would Mick see that her daughter was taken care of? She could say he was the father, then he’d have the right to look after her. Would he understand? It didn’t matter—she was out of time. She whispered, “Yes.”

PATRICIA DAVIDS

was born and raised in the farm and ranch country of central Kansas. As a tomboy with four brothers, Pat spent an idyllic childhood where horses, softball, church activities and books formed the foundations of her rich imagination. Today, Pat works as an R.N. in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit), spoils her grandkids and tries to find time to write down the stories roaming around in her head. She is president of her local RWA chapter and believes that helping new writers learn the craft is the best way to repay the people who helped her. After seven years of writing, she sold her first book to Steeple Hill in June of 2004. Dreams do come true—as long as you chase after them with hard work, determination and faith.

His Bundle of Love

Patricia Davids

And whoever welcomes a little child like this in My name welcomes Me.

—Matthew 18:5

For David, who always believed

I could do anything I set my heart on.

And for my mother, Joan.

“Look Mom! No sleaze!”

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

“Hey, wait! Mister, you gotta help us!”

Mick O’Callaghan stopped at the sound of the frantic shout. He turned to see a grubby, bearded derelict emerge from the doorway of an abandoned building, one of many that lined the narrow Chicago street. As the man stumbled down the dilapidated steps, Mick recognized Eddy Todd. Eddy, in his stained and tattered overcoat, was a frequent flyer at the Mercy House Shelter where Mick volunteered two days a week.

Staggering up to Mick, Eddy grabbed the front of his brown leather jacket. “Please. You gotta help. She’s havin’ a baby! I don’t know what to do. You gotta help her.”

“Take it easy, Eddy. Slow down and tell me what’s wrong.”

Eddy squinted up at Mick’s face, and some of the panic left his watery, gray eyes. “That you, Mick?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He kept the old fellow from falling by catching his elbows. The sour odors of an unwashed body and cheap whiskey assaulted Mick. No doubt Eddy had been out panhandling, and some well-meaning Samaritan had given him money for a meal, but he had spent it on a bottle instead.

Eddy regained his balance and tugged at Mick’s arm. “Come on. You’re a fireman. You can deliver a baby, can’t ya?”

Mick cast a doubtful eye at the old tenement. What would a pregnant woman be doing in there? Only broken shards of glass remained in the few windows that weren’t boarded over. A section of the roof had collapsed, and debris littered the area. The only signs of life were a few weeds that had sprouted in the sidewalk cracks and struggled to survive in the weak April sunshine. It wasn’t the kind of place he wanted to go searching through—especially for an old drunk’s hallucinations.

With a gentle tug, Mick tried to coax Eddy away. “Why don’t you come down to the mission. Pastor Frank can get you a hot meal. It’s meat loaf tonight. You like meat loaf, don’t you?”

“Sure, sure, I like meat loaf.” Eddy allowed himself to be led for a few steps, then he stoppe