This Child Is Mine

by Mildred Colvin

  This Child Is Mine

  Kansas City Romance [1]

  Mildred Colvin

  (2012)

  * * *

  One of your favorite Heartsong Presents romances, This Child Is Mine, is now available as a complete and unabridged audiobook. A blood test that should have brought comfort brings confusion and pain instead. Now Beth Murdock must face the truth - Stevie, the little girl she has raised as her own for almost two years, isn't hers. Jonathon McDuff doesn't know what to make of the legal document explaining that his daughter Lexie isn't really his. He wants his biological child back - but he can't stand to think of losing the little girl he knows as his. the obvious solution would be to have all parties under one roof. the arrangement would be strictly for the toddlers, the adults say... or could God have plans to bring love back to the hearts of two very wounded people? Heartsong Audiobooks are perfect for in the car, for mom's that just can't seem to find enough time in the day to read, or for grandmother's who don't enjoy reading for long periods of time. Now with the Heartsong Audiobooks you can simply listen, relax, and enjoy!

  Kansas City Romance

  Book One

  This Child Is Mine

  Contemporary Christian Romance

  ______________________________

  Mildred Colvin

  This Child Is Mine

  by

  Mildred Colvin

  Copyright©2012 by Mildred Colvin

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Photo ©Ffooter|Dreamstime.com

  This version of This Child Is Mine is rewritten from the original book published by Barbour Publishing, Inc.

  Scripture portions are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from its author except for brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to the doctors and nurses who make our world a better place with their unselfish dedication and caring. And especially to my three nurse friends at the health clinic who answered my questions about blood typing, diabetes, and viruses. Thank you, ladies. You helped more than you know.

  Chapter One

  “Mo’ wawa.”

  “More water?” Beth laughed and hugged her tiny daughter before lifting her high and swinging around in a circle. “You can have all the water you want, sweetheart.”

  Yesterday she wouldn’t have been so eager to hand over yet another sippy cup. But yesterday she feared her daughter’s frequent requests for water were a sign she’d inherited more from her father than his brown eyes. Now she knew better. She filled a sippy and added a couple of ice cubes before setting little Stevie and her cup down.

  While Stevie drank her water, Beth picked up the paper from the hospital lab to reaffirm what she already knew. Never had the word negative looked so wonderful. She skimmed the paper as she thought of Steven and the heartbreak of his last few months while diabetes took his health and finally his life. Even as tears filled her eyes, her heart lifted in thanksgiving to God. Stevie didn’t have diabetes.

  Beth’s gaze rested on what should have been an insignificant space on the form. Blood type—AB positive. She frowned. The lab had made a mistake. Stevie had O type blood. The form from the hospital where she was born clearly said O. Beth remembered. Besides, she couldn’t have anything else because she and Steven were both O positive.

  Air rushed from her lungs as she dropped into a chair and stared at the paper. How could the hospital have made such a mistake? She checked the name at the top to be sure it said Stevie Elizabeth Carter. It did. If the blood type was wrong, didn’t that mean they had somehow mixed up Stevie’s blood work with someone else’s? Beth’s heart sank. Stevie could still be diabetic.

  Fear sent icy fingers up Beth’s spine as she looked at her precious daughter now playing with her favorite doll, her sippy cup forgotten on the floor beside her. At eighteen months, Stevie looked so much like Steven with her blond hair and large brown eyes. Did she have to have the sickness that killed him, too?

  Beth glanced at the clock. A quarter to seven. Her first drop-off would arrive any minute. If she called now she might catch Lori before she left for the hospital. She reached for the cordless phone and punched her best friend’s number.

  Three rings later Lori answered.

  “Lori, just how accurate is the lab test?” Beth asked without preamble.

  “Accurate? As in, is Stevie really free of diabetes?”

  “No, I mean could they have gotten the blood work mixed up?”

  “Beth!” Beth could imagine the disbelief on Lori’s face. Lori Henderson was an RN and worked in the lab. She hadn’t done Stevie’s test, but she knew the procedure and her coworkers. Of course she would think they were infallible. Her next words confirmed Beth’s thought. “Of course not. What are you thinking? That there’s something wrong with the test?”

  The rumble of a car motor pulling into her driveway caught Beth’s attention. She sighed. A three-year-old bombshell was about to be dropped off at her door. Within five minutes, her home would become a daycare—just as it did every weekday.

  “There has to be, Lori. This paper says Stevie’s blood type is AB-positive, but Steven’s was O-positive just like mine. There was a paper when I brought Stevie home from the hospital that said Stevie has O-type blood.”

  Beth’s doorbell rang. “Look, I’ve got to go. I want to talk to you tonight, though.”

  “All right, Beth,” Lori said. “I’ll come by after work, but I don’t think it’s possible they could have made such a mistake.”

  Beth hung up the phone and soon had Jackie settled with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of orange juice. The doorbell rang again and her second child arrived ready for her breakfast. By nine fifteen, eight children ranging from a three-month-old baby to a four-year-old girl filled her living room with hopping, toddling, and crawling as they explored toys which never seemed to grow old until one noticed a different toy in another child’s hand.

  While the baby napped and the two eighteen-month-olds played nearby, Beth got out crayons, scissors and paper for a short preschool session with her two-, three-, and four-year-olds.

  The day went quickly through lunch and afternoon naps while Beth stayed too busy to spend much time thinking about her own problems. But as closing time neared, and she had only two more children to be picked up, her problem shifted into the front of her mind. Lori would be arriving any minute. When her doorbell rang, she almost ran toward the door, only to have it open before she reached it.

  “Mommy,” Debbie cried out.

  Beth stepped back while the little girl launched herself into her mother’s arms.

  Carolyn Hoover hugged her daughter and laughed. “She isn’t glad to see me, is she?”

  Beth smiled and shook her head. “Not that I can tell.”

  “And how’s my boy?” Carolyn set her daughter down so she could lift her three-month-old son from the playpen where he slept. “How he sleeps through all Debbie’s racket, I’ll never understand.”

  “They get used to the noise, so it doesn’t bother them.” Beth answered as Stevie left her toy and crossed the room to stand close beside her. She smoothed her daughter’s silky blond hair, loving the feel of her little body pressed against her leg.

  She glanced out the front window and saw Lori’s car pull into the driveway. Anxious to show her friend what she
had discovered on Stevie’s lab work, Beth set the diaper bag out.

  “Debbie, would you like for me to help you with your coat?”

  “No. Want Mommy.” Debbie’s lower lip stuck out and Beth sighed. Debbie seemed perfectly content all day long, but as soon as her mother showed up, she wanted nothing more to do with Beth. Normally, she didn’t mind, but today she wanted to hurry the trio from her house so she could concentrate on her own problems.

  Carolyn handed her sleeping son to Beth and took the coat. “Mrs. Carter does nice things for you all day, Debbie. You mustn’t act naughty just because Mommy’s here. The quicker you get your coat on, the quicker we can go home and eat.”

  Debbie shoved her arm through the coat sleeve. “Fries.”

  Carolyn laughed as she cast a sheepish look at Beth. “Now you know my secret for quick meals.”

  Beth smiled. “Don’t feel bad. I’ve been guilty, too, when I’m so tired all I want to do is crash in front of the TV.”

  Just as Beth despaired of them ever leaving, Lori rang her doorbell and stuck her head around the door. “Hi. I was going to wait outside until you were finished in here, but I got cold sitting in the car.”

  Carolyn picked up the diaper bag and her daughter. She flashed a smile at Lori. “I’m on my way out now.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you.” Lori cast an apologetic look toward Beth.

  Carolyn laughed. “No problem. We have to go find some French fries on our way home, anyway.”

  Beth stood with the baby now wrapped securely in a blanket. She gave a tiny shake of her head as an apology to Lori. “I’ll help Carolyn out and be right back. Make yourself at home. Maybe Stevie can show you her new book.”

  “Hey, Stevie, have you got a new book?”

  Beth heard Stevie’s excited chatter as she followed Carolyn outside and knew Lori would be well entertained. As soon as Carolyn secured Debbie in her car seat, Beth handed the baby to her, told them bye, and ran for the house through the stiff February breeze.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if it snowed tonight.” Beth pushed the door closed, glad for the warmth of her little house.

  Lori looked up from the book she and Stevie were reading. “We were so busy at the hospital today I haven’t paid much attention to the weather. Typical for this time of year, though. I think everyone and his brother has the flu.”

  “Yuck.” Beth shivered. “I hope it isn’t that bad, although I did have one gone today. Maybe he’s down with the flu.”

  Lori nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” She hugged Stevie. “Can you read your book by yourself while Mommy and I talk? Then when we’re done, I’ll treat you both to supper.”

  “No.” Stevie shook her head and held the book toward Lori. “Wead.”

  Beth smiled at her stubborn daughter. From experience, she knew bribery would not work. When Stevie wanted something, she went after it with the tenacity of a bulldog. That was one thing she had not inherited from her father. Steven had been easy going.

  The familiar ache settled in her chest as she thought of her husband, kind and generous to a fault. Stevie might have his coloring and she might have his long, delicate fingers, but this dogged determination to have her own way must have been a throwback to an earlier generation.

  Lori and Stevie’s continued argument caught Beth’s attention.

  “How about fries? Do you like them?” Lori asked the little girl. “I think your little friend was going to get some fries.”

  Stevie nodded and held the book out. “Wead.”

  Lori laughed, and Stevie giggled, her one dimple flashing.

  “No, you read the book all by yourself, and I’ll get you some fries.”

  Stevie stood on the sofa and turned to plop into Lori’s lap, the book clutched securely in her small hands. She turned with a grin and pushed the book toward Lori. “Wead.”

  Beth laughed. “I think you’ve just lost, Lori. You may as well finish the book, then I’ll show you the paper from the hospital.”

  Lori shook her head in mock indignation. “I’ll read the book, then I’ll still have to buy her fries.”

  “Fwies.” Stevie mimicked Lori, making the women laugh.

  “All right, I give.” Lori shook her head and opened the book. The Puppy Who Wanted a Home.

  Ten minutes later, Beth had her home back in order after the invasion of her busy day-care children. Stevie, tired of reading, jumped from Lori’s lap to pull out a Jack-in-the-box that Beth had just put up. Beth grabbed the opportunity to get the lab report and hand it to Lori.

  “See, it says Stevie tested negative for diabetes, but it has the wrong blood type. Here.” She handed Lori another paper. “This is what the hospital in Kansas City gave me when Stevie was born. Look at the blood type on it. They’re not the same, Lori. I’m afraid they used someone else’s blood.”

  Lori looked from one paper to the other, a puzzled frown on her face. She shook her head. “This means we still don’t know for sure if Stevie is in the clear.”

  “What can I do?” Frustration from the emotional hills and valleys she had been forced to ride the last several years made Beth want to scream. She knew God had never promised an easy life, only that He would be with her. And He had been. Steven’s sickness. Giving up her dream of teaching. Their marriage. His death. Stevie’s birth. Starting and running her own business. God had been beside her through it all. He would not leave her alone. Peace washed through her heart and calmed her.

  Beth looked at Lori. “Can you do a blood test?”

  Lori’s eyebrows shot up. “Here? Unofficial?”

  Beth nodded. “Yes. Tonight. Lori, I know the hospitals are trustworthy. They probably seldom make a mistake. But you can’t argue with me that a mistake hasn’t been made.” She tapped the two papers still clutched in Lori’s hands. “Right here is proof. A child can’t have two different blood types, now can she?”

  “No.” Lori shook her head. “That she cannot do.”

  Beth was begging, but she would do anything for Stevie. “Can you do it, Lori? Can you give a blood test?”

  Lori frowned. “I can. Let’s go get something to eat and then swing by my place. I taught a class last night and we did blood typing as part of our lab. I think I’ve still got what we’ll need at home.”

  Beth breathed easier knowing Lori would take care of things.

  Snowflakes drifted in front of the headlights as Lori stopped to get a hamburger and fries for Stevie. Beth and Lori each bought a chicken meal but neither wanted to eat until they reached Lori’s house. Beth wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat even then.

  Lori, having recently gone through a divorce, lived alone in the house she and her husband had bought two years earlier. She pulled into the wide drive that ended at a two-car garage, pushed her remote button to open the door, and drove inside. A security motion light came on, illuminating the stark interior of the garage as she used the remote to lower the door.

  Beth reached for the door handle, anxious for some answers that made sense. She lifted Stevie from the back seat and followed Lori up three steps into her kitchen.

  Lori put the food bags on the table and turned to Beth. “Do you want to eat first?”

  Beth watched her daughter clutch her bag and sighed. “I guess a few more minutes won’t hurt anything.”

  Lori looked at Stevie with narrowed eyes as Beth lifted her into the high chair she kept there for her small visitors. As Beth dumped the fries on a paper napkin, Lori spoke. “You know, maybe I could steal a little blood while she’s busy eating. It might be easier.”

  “I’m sure it would.” Beth nodded her approval. “Why don’t we give it a try?”

  “Okay.” Lori motioned to the table. “Go ahead and eat with her. I’ll be right back.”

  Recognizing the friend she had in Lori, Beth’s prayer of thanksgiving over her food included Lori and her willingness to help. What would she have done after Steven’s death without Lori and others from h
er church family? Although her parents had begged her to remain in Blue Springs with them after Stevie’s birth, Beth preferred the independence living in Bolivar gave her. A year later, when her father’s job unexpectedly transferred him to Michigan, Beth was glad for her decision.

  Opening her own daycare had been a challenge from the start, but was worth all the headache of finding a suitable house and getting it approved by the state’s health department. Although operating a daycare was not her first choice of employment, she could think of nothing else in her line of work that would allow her to stay home and keep her infant daughter with her. She had much to be thankful for.

  “All right. Here goes.” Lori bustled back into the kitchen with a small packet of things Beth didn’t care to understand. She just wanted her daughter to be well.

  “Hey, sweetie. Looky here.” Lori held a French fry in front of Stevie’s right hand while she reached for the left one. As tiny fingers closed over the fry, Lori swabbed the finger she held and slipped something over the end of it.

  Beth watched Stevie’s face and didn’t see Lori puncture the finger. She expected an indignant wail to erupt at any moment. When it didn’t, she turned to see a tiny dot of red stain her baby’s finger. Stevie stuck the end of the fry in her mouth and chewed without a blink. Lori scooped the blood into a tiny tube and smiled.

  “I’m impressed.” Beth spoke softly for fear she would cause a delayed outburst.

  Lori looked smug. “Piece of cake. Now I’ll go run this through and let you know what type blood our little girl has.”

  While Lori worked her magic in the other room, Beth played with her food. Her sandwich tasted like cardboard, and it wasn’t the restaurant’s fault. Where was her faith? Just moments before she’d determined God was with her. The Gospel of Matthew said He would be even to the end of the world. It was just that sometimes she felt the same as she supposed a stepchild would feel. Only God doesn’t have stepchildren.