Mother's Promise by Anna Schmidt

I’m-the-doctor-and-you’re-not syndrome.
    But Ben Booker was different. He wore his medical expertise as a responsibility, not an entitlement. He respected the contributions that others could make. It didn’t matter to him if he was dealing with the security guard on duty in the lobby after hours or one of the aides who provided more than half the actual hands-on care a patient received during a hospital stay. He showed them the same consideration as he did any of his professional colleagues. Ben was an equal-opportunity guy when it came to his curiosity about others. That only added to his appeal for Darcy. She wasn’t used to being around men who cared what others thought—especially the women in their lives.
    Her father had been a bully of the first order, always ordering others around, making fun of their failures, and taking personal credit for their successes.
    But Ben was not anything like her father, and Darcy could only imagine how he must have charmed the Mennonite woman. In the course of a walk from the hospital entrance to the chaplain’s office, he would have put her completely at ease. To that end, Darcy supposed that she owed him a debt of gratitude. Putting people at ease was not her strong suit.
    As Ben had pointed out, they were both workaholics. They spent hours together in meetings when the hospital was being built. Before the hospital food service was up and running, they had shared meals and coffee at a local neighborhood café. They had never had an actual date, but Darcy had high hopes that now that the hospital was open and fully staffed, that would change. Her invitation for pizza had been her first step in a targeted campaign to take her business relationship with Ben to another—more personal—level.
    The door to the office for spiritual care services was ajar. She could hear Paul Cox’s assistant, Eileen Walls, laughing. She tapped on the door and then entered the reception area. “Hello, Eileen,” she said before turning her attention to Rachel. “I’m Darcy Meekins, hospital administrator.” She extended her hand to the woman dressed in the garb of her faith. “And you must be the newest member of our team.”
    â€œYes. Rachel. Rachel Kaufmann. I’m so glad to meet you in person,” the woman replied, pumping Darcy’s hand once and then releasing it.
    â€œI’ve been filling her in while we wait for Pastor Paul to get here,” Eileen explained. “That man needs three clocks to keep him on schedule.” She sighed.
    â€œI’m here,” a male voice boomed as Paul Cox came huffing his way through the door. He was a large man in both height and weight, and with his bushy gray hair and his pulpit voice, he had a way of filling up whatever space might be left in the small room of the outer office.
    Eileen made the introductions, and Darcy saw by Rachel’s broad smile that she was not any more immune to the minister’s charisma than anyone she’d ever seen him meet had been.
    â€œNow aren’t you just a breath of sunshine,” he exclaimed as he smiled down at Rachel. “It’s got to be ninety degrees out there and here you are looking fresh as a daisy.”
    Darcy stifled a groan. Paul Cox was given to clichés. It was part of the aw-shucks folksy persona that had made him so successful in his previous position at Sarasota Memorial Hospital before Ben persuaded him to jump ship and head up the team at Gulf Coast. Paul opened the door to his office and stepped aside to allow Rachel and her to enter ahead of him. “Hold any calls, Eileen,” he said, “unless …”
    â€œHow many years have I been working for you, Pastor Paul?” Eileen said sweetly.
    Paul chuckled and gently closed the door. “Have a seat, ladies. Can I get anyone anything? Glass of water? How about a peppermint candy?” He indicated a covered dish on his desk filled with