Under His Wings

By Linda L. Bellig M.A.

Molly Franklin just wanted a few days of peace with her dog, Lucy, camping along the lake. Who knew she would find herself in the middle of a infant kidnapping? As a capable neonatal nurse, she was ready and eager to help Sheriff French sort out the mystery. However, when evil becomes up close and personal, she must deal with the chaos that it brings to her physical, professional, and spiritual life. How does a young Christian handle such a trauma without losing faith, career, or self-confidence? Will her life ever be the same, or does she need to prepare herself for a new normal?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jun 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490883670

Linda L. Bellig M.A.

A retired neonatal nursing leader, Linda Bellig has over forty years’ experience working with neonatal nurses. She has written numerous articles and spoken at national and international conferences. A founding board member of the National Association of Neonatal Nurses, she served on the board for ten years and was president of the organization from 1990 to 1992. She has initiated two university programs for neonatal nurse practitioners and was the nursing director for one of the first programs to prepare nurses for this advanced role.

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Copyright © 2015 Linda L. Bellig, M.A.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-8366-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-8368-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-8367-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015909147

WestBow Press rev. date: 06/10/2015

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Discussion Questions

Advice for Rape Victims

Invitation to the next book

To my beautiful mother, who is in heaven telling everybody, My Linda has written a book. She enjoyed my accomplishments and was my prayer warrior when battles arose.

Acknowledgments

M y thanks go to the hundreds of nurses whom I have had the privilege to work with and to teach in the past forty-three years. Neonatal nursing has changed in that time, but the dedication and energy of those nurses continues unaltered.

I also thank my Word Weaver’s critique group. Making the transition from an academic writer to a writer of fiction is a formidable task, and their evaluation of my words, thoughts, grammar, and point of view was worth its weight in gold. Also, the Word Weaver conferences provided much valuable instruction and encouragement.

I thank my sister and brother for their humor and support. My brother, Jack, listened to my many plot twists and turns and forced me to look at the logic and flow of ideas. He pulled some real bloopers out of my manuscript before anyone else saw my mistakes.

Many thanks to the team at Westbow Press, especially the developmental editors. They have been a great asset to this beginning fiction writer.

I thank God for showing me the direction to take after retiring from nursing. A mind is a terrible thing to waste, and I needed the discipline and prodding of an ongoing project to keep my mind from turning into vanilla pudding. God would download plot directions and new ideas to contemplate at night, and suddenly, voila … my writer’s block would disappear.

Chapter 1

M olly Franklin woke with a start and pushed her blonde hair out of her face. The sound of Lucy’s barking stabbed through her head, and the clicking of doggie nails on the linoleum floor accentuated the clamor. Her corgi mix’s brown eyes, within inches of her own, looked back with concern. What could be roaming the campground at this time of night? Pulling the cord on the bedside lamp, she inspected the large cabin interior and didn’t see anything amiss. Was there a bear or raccoon on the porch foraging for food?

Lucy, calm down. I’m awake!

Lucy looked back seriously, as if to say, "There is a problem that needs to be checked out!"

Peeking through the window, Molly saw a figure lying on the porch with a hand outstretched toward the door. She picked up a broom and cautiously opened the door. Lucy poked her nose through the opening and barked again, her tail wagging vigorously. Molly recognized Calvin Smithton, the town’s drunk—not much to look at when he was awake and even less attractive when unconscious. His beady gray eyes were slightly open and moved rapidly under his lids. The left corner of his mouth hung open and his denture protruded. A patch of coarse gray hair grew out of his left ear as if to make up for the lack of it on his head. A strong odor of unwashed body mixed with eau de cheap liquor wafted from his prone figure. He was not a wonderful sight to find on your porch at two o’clock in the morning.

Molly felt Calvin’s neck gingerly for a pulse. It throbbed merrily against her finger. At her touch, Calvin opened his eyes, squinted up, and muttered, Krunk! His head then rolled slightly to the side and his eyes rolled back. An abrasion on his right forehead seeped slightly. It looked like a new wound. Quickly inspecting his skull, she noted a goose egg.

Calvin, did you visit the wrong person?

Better call 911, she thought, stepping away from him. As she turned, she heard a mewl from the edge of the porch. Oh no! What had Calvin brought with him? Peering over the edge, she gasped at the untidy bunch of rags cradling a baby in a raggedy basket.

Good grief! What is Calvin doing with a baby?

She rushed down the stairs, picked up the basket, and looked into new baby-blue eyes. The baby sucked on a fat fist and looked back. Molly glanced around the yard and saw nothing to add to the story, so she ran up the four stairs with the burden and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed 911, barely able to take her eyes from the baby.

Dispatcher, this is Molly Franklin. I’m at cabin six down at Lemke’s Lake. I found Calvin Smithton on my porch with two wounds to his head. He’s breathing okay and did wake up to say ‘krunk’ before again losing consciousness. But he has a newborn baby with him. After I get off the phone, I’ll check the baby out. I am a nursery nurse and can stabilize it, if needed. I left Calvin on the porch, so please hurry!

Leaving the phone on, Molly spread a newspaper on the kitchen table and placed the basket on it. Pushing aside the rags covering the baby, she noted a wad of paper towels wrapped around the infant’s umbilical cord. A dirty string was tied tightly around the cord about two inches from the baby’s abdomen. Further inspection revealed a baby girl with all her fingers and toes. The baby’s body still had remnants of blood matted in her hair and in her armpits. Molly checked all the vital assessments required—strong pulses, pink color, and steady breathing.

Molly got the thermometer from the cabin’s first-aid kit, checked the baby’s rectal temperature, and saw that the baby was slightly cold. Dark feces came out with the thermometer, so that system seemed okay. She found several clean towels and wiped away the moisture from the baby’s body. Using an old sweatshirt, she snugly wrapped the baby, making sure that the hoodie was over her head. The baby cried heartily at such treatment and then quieted down after being wrapped.

All baby priorities were taken care of for the moment. Now for the next priority—Calvin. Who knew what condition he would be in on the porch? Adults were not her favorite kind of patient. They could be argumentative and uncooperative and often were not cute.

The police sirens shrilled nearby and she breathed a sigh of relief. Good! Calvin and his baby could be their problem. Right now, she needed to get dressed. The sheriff might not take her seriously in footed Eeyore pajamas. Her nursing priorities might not be done, however. Usually babies were accompanied by mothers who also needed care. Maybe next she should look for a recovering mother in the woods.

The police car headlights were directed toward the porch and continued to provide harsh light after the engine was turned off. Sheriff John French hurried up the front path and met Molly as she stepped out her kitchen door. A familiar face to Molly, the lawman had served the county as long as Molly had been coming to the cabin. Tall, with thick iron-gray hair, this ex-marine was a no-nonsense kind of guy who kept his county orderly and clean. He rarely smiled, but his boisterous laugh when it came invited listeners to smile and chortle along.

Molly pointed to Calvin, still unconscious on the porch. There’s problem number one. Problem number two is on my kitchen table. I haven’t had time to check for any other problems, but feel free to look.

Oh, I will, Miss Molly, but first let me check out the problems we know about. French stooped close to Calvin’s head, felt his pulse, and checked the wounds. He quickly scanned the area around Calvin’s head for any further clues. Hey, Calvin, what do you have to say for yourself? Calvin either had nothing he wanted to say or lacked the alertness to answer, so Sheriff French stood and cocked his head to Molly. I think he can wait for the ambulance. Let’s check out the baby.

Molly explained her care of the baby while the sheriff inspected the sleeping infant in her basket and ragged coverings. So, where did you come from? he said softly to the infant. He turned to Molly and added, I don’t know of any pregnant women in town, but I’ll check with the OBs in the area about anyone ready to give birth. She looks pretty healthy, but she should go in the ambulance with Calvin.

Sheriff, this baby has been born within the last few hours. There must be a woman recovering from her delivery somewhere in the vicinity. That umbilical cord is still moist.

Yep. Best be getting a search together in the area. I’ll get it organized.

Molly looked out the kitchen window into the darkness. The new mother had to be close by. Surely she would have tried to come to the lights of the cabin and squad car. Unless she had something to hide or didn’t want to be linked to the baby. But then why was the baby in Calvin’s dubious custody? There were a lot of questions to answer, and Molly was never one to let a question suffer in silence.

In the shadows of the hedges fifty feet from the cabin door, Molly saw a small red light, and then it faded away. The bushes moved slightly and then stilled. Was there someone watching the cabin? Before Molly could comment to Sheriff French, sirens screamed and the ambulance pulled up to the cabin. Molly rushed out to inform the paramedics about her findings and gave them a small note documenting her assessment and care of the baby.

As French stepped out of the cabin, he updated Molly about the search. I’ll be looking in the general vicinity of your cabin. I’d appreciate if you kept your outside lights on. There probably won’t be other officers here until morning, if I don’t find anybody or anything.

Molly followed him. I might as well help you look. I am wide awake and the mystery is killing me.

Now, Miss Molly, you stay in the cabin. I don’t know what kind of crime I’m dealing with, and I don’t need you as a third victim!

Oh, really, Sheriff! I’ll just look around out in the open, and if the bogey man jumps out, you’ll hear me scream!

Shaking his head, he muttered, Do what you want! You women usually do, and I’ve learned from my wife not to make waves. Just stay away from the road. I saw a big car pull away from the side of the road as I pulled up. I didn’t get the make or see the plate.

Molly moved toward the distant trees, Lucy trailing joyfully behind. An opportunity to be outside together was a special treat for both of them. Now Molly wondered if she had seen some movement in the trees at that spot a few minutes ago. She hadn’t said anything to the sheriff because she didn’t know for sure. Though the bushes seemed disturbed, there was no sign of a new mother. She would be a pretty fresh delivery, and there should be some signs of fluid or blood.

Shaking her head, Molly turned away and then saw a fresh cigarette butt lying by the tree. It still had a red, hot end where the smoker had failed to put it out.

Somebody was here, Sheriff French! she yelled. Hey, I might have found something!

Chapter 2

T he sheriff picked up the cigarette with a gloved hand and put