Brides of Texas (11 page)

Sleep wouldn’t come.

The sky was still violet. Soon, the rooster would be crowing the sun up. Mercy lay in bed and stared at her bedside table. A thin layer of dust covered her Bible. She hadn’t read the Word for weeks now. Setting aside quiet time for devotions was too hard. The minute she ceased doing chores she started drowning in a sea of feelings.

Deciding what to make for breakfast, she shoved off the sheet. It was far too hot to use blankets. Suddenly, she froze. Lying still, she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. A few minutes later, it happened again—an infinitesimal fluttering low in her tummy. Light as butterfly wings, the sensation came and left again.

The baby
?

Mercy slid her hand down the soft-from-a-hundred-washings cotton nightgown. Resting her palm where she’d experienced the sensation, she waited. And waited. And waited.

Is that you
?

“Hello, Dr. Gregor! Welcome! You’re just in time—the men are coming in for lunch.”

Rob didn’t dismount immediately. “I was concerned about you, Mrs. Kunstler. My brothers said Otto mentioned you were feeling puirly.”

“I’m hale as a horse. I don’t know where—” She halted abruptly as color rushed to her cheeks.

Crossing his hands on the saddle’s pommel, he looked across the table. “Mrs. Grun, I’m glad to see the terrible sprain you had yesterday has healed so swiftly. You’re walking without any difficulty. Mrs. Voran, Mrs. Stucky—I’m gratified to see your children are bounding around so easily. I was made to understand they were ailing yesterday, as well.”

Mrs. Kunstler bustled past him and waved the men over. “Come. Yes, come now. Dinner is ready. There is plenty!”

Chris yelled, “Rob, what are you doing here?”

Rob shrugged. “A whole lot of nothing, much to my surprise. Just yesterday, you said many of the women or children were sick. I’m delighted to report everyone’s in the very pink of health.”

Rob joined the men at the washstands, then ate with them. As he rose, he said, “What a grand meal this was. I’ve never seen men eat half as much. You women—all of you women—worked hard to keep sufficient food on the table.”

“We all help one another,” Jakob Lintz said.

“Ahh. So that’s it.” Rob nodded his head sagely. “None of the ladies went to help at the Stein’s threshing yesterday. I’m supposing ’twas because none of us Gregors thought to pledge that one or two of us would work the threshing on the Stein’s behalf.” He let out a big sigh. “I’m relieved. Aye, I surely am. I should have known better than to worry as I did.”

“Worry?” someone asked.

“Aye. I’m ashamed to confess I worried mayhap something else was behind puir wee Mercy working her fingers to the bone. Now I see ’twasna a case of anyone reviling the lass. Glad I am of it, too. She’s but an innocent lamb, hurt in the verra worst way by a godless beast of a man. She and the babe—I’m glad to know you’ll all be thinkin’ kindly of them and extending Christian charity toward them through the coming months and years.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Rob.” Duncan stood and scanned the young women who stood around the edge of the yard, their hands full of empty pie plates. “I’m betting not a man here hasna given thought to the fact that it could have been his daughter or granddaughter who fell victim to such a tragedy. Connant told us this community was strong in the Lord. ’Twas our fault—the Gregors should have pledged to you all that we’d represent the Steins. From now on, you can count on us.”

“Aye, that you can.” Chris slapped a straw hat on his head. “Now I’m getting back to work ere I yield to the temptation to take a nap after all that food.”

Rob rode over to the Steins’. Mercy was in the garden wielding a hoe. Rob dismounted and chuckled. “I canna help wonderin’ whether you’re merely killin’ that weed or if you’re trying to send it clear down to the devil himself this verra minute!”

“I’d gladly send him and all his brothers.”

“This is a lovely garden patch. You must have quite a fondness for sweet corn.”

“We all do.” Mercy surveyed the long rows of corn. Suddenly her eyes went wide and her hand went to her middle.

“The babe’s bootin’ you, eh?” Rob made a casual gesture. “The timing is right. The next three months, you’ll not be feeling so sleepy. The last three, you’ll be worn out and have your back achin’ fiercely, but that’s all to be expected.”

“Oh.”

She’s not cutting me off. I dinna dare push too far, but the lass needs help. Lord, give me the wisdom and words she needs
.

“ ‘The barest of flutters.’ ” He smiled. “That’s how the first mother-to-be I doctored many years back described it. Later, she declared that same babe was stompin’ in hobnailed boots inside her.” Hitching his shoulder, Rob admitted, “ ’Twas her eleventh babe. My hands caught him—a fat, squalling boy—but that woman took a mind to tell me half of what I needed to know wasna in my medical texts.”

“She told you this? Your patient?”

“Aye, and right she was.” Rob casually patted his chest pocket. “Now there’s a pity. After each visit I paid her, I wrote notes to myself. Ever see that small red book I carry? I could quote page upon page, but still I carry it with me on the days I’m to see a woman who’s in a motherly way.”

“Why?”

“That book serves as a reminder that ’tisna always the mind that teaches us the important things—ofttimes, ’tis the heart.”

Mercy started hoeing again with a vengeance. “You’re supposing everyone has a heart. You’re wrong, Doctor. Write that down in your book, too.”

A
s soon as the bitter words left her mouth, Mercy regretted them. They were honest—but too stark. Concentrating on a small dirt clod, she beat it into oblivion as she muttered, “I should not have said that.”

“And why not? There’s nothing wrong with speaking the truth as you see it.”

“I’m not a child. You do not need to humor me.”

“I’m not humoring you. As a matter of fact, I think you have plenty of call to question if anyone has a heart. You’ve suffered greatly because of what others have done.”

She stared at the soil. “It was not others about whom I spoke. It is myself.”

“Without a doubt, Miss Stein, you have a heart of gold. You love your brother and grandda. You even pet baby skunks.”

“It does not say much for my character that I care for the young, the old, and the helpless. These days, those are all I do care for.”

“Your heart has been wounded as surely as any other injury you have suffered. To my way of thinking, there’s nothing wrong with you guarding yourself. You need time.”

“Time will not help.” Mercy stared at the earth. If anything, time would only make matters worse. People already shunned her. How much worse would it become when her belly grew huge? And how would they treat her after she had the babe?

How will they treat the baby
? The thought made her breath catch. Until this morning, she’d resented the life she carried. All she’d been able to link it to was the horrific act. Only now things seemed different. That life was so very small, so helpless.
The gentle-as-raindrop patter I felt inside—how could I have thought I would hate such a thing
?

“Time doesn’t cure everything.” The doctor let out a rueful chuckle. “If it did, I’d be out of business. What I’ve found is, as weeks and months go by, we gain wisdom and are better able to make decisions.”

“I have no decisions to make.” Mercy’s head shot up, and she stared at him. “These days, all I do is live with the way things are because of what others have done or thought or believed.”

“I’d be a fool of a man if I said what others think and believe doesna matter. Instead, though, why not give some consideration to what it is that you think and believe?”

Embarrassed that she’d been blurting out thoughts she ought to have kept private, Mercy decided to sidestep his probing question. “What I think is that I have chores to do. All the talk in the world won’t get them done.”

“These cabbages here look ripe and ready. How many are you wantin’ me to pick?”

“I didn’t mean for you to set your hand to my work!”

The doctor squatted down and absently brushed a little dirt from the side of the nearest head of cabbage. “I wasna born with a scalpel in my hand. Some of my most cherished memories are of helpin’ Ma in our garden.” He smiled at Mercy. “I confess, I often took a can along, just in case a worm turned up. Fish and vegetables make a fine meal.”

“Why did you come here today?”

“I had a couple of reasons.” He reached toward her. “Knife.”

“How do you know I have a knife with me?” Ever since
that day
, she’d carried a knife in her apron pocket.

“Any practical woman would when her garden brimmed like this.” He accepted the knife, cut a cabbage, and hefted the head a few times. “Round and heavy and the color’s good.” He tilted his head to the side. “I’ve said the selfsame thing about a few of the babes I’ve delivered.”

I knew not to trust him
. She turned away as she said in a flat tone, “You came to talk to me of the child of my shame.”

“Stop right there.” He straightened up and stepped in front of her. “Whatever else you think, Mercy Stein, know this: I have not, and I never will think of you as being shamed. Shame implies you did something that makes you guilty. You did nothing wrong.”

“If I did nothing wrong, then why is God punishing me?” She slapped her hand over her mouth and stepped backward, away from him. Something hit her ankle, and she started to fall.

“Careful.” The doctor’s fingers clamped around her wrist and drew her upright. His strength amazed her. Until now, he’d always been restrained and gentle. His brothers came and did physical labor, so the fact that he was every bit as tall and broad as they hadn’t registered. “The hoe was behind you, lass.”

“You’re strong.” It came out as an accusation.

“That fact needn’t trouble you. I’ve taken an oath to heal, not to harm.”

Mercy stared at him.
How did he know I’m afraid
? Just as quickly, she resented the fact that he knew of her vulnerability. “You talk too boldly.”

“I’m a plainspoken man. Hiding behind fancy words never suited me. Cutting to the heart of a matter is best. I admire how you’ve been doing that today. The things you’ve said thus far—you’ve shown rare courage for admitting what others would gloss o’er.”

Courage? Mercy shook her head. “How can you tell me not to be troubled by your strength in one minute, only to suggest I’m brave in the next?”

“Because until you’re honest enough to confess your doubts and fears, you canna get beyond them. God created us with physical bodies, but just as surely He filled us with feelings and placed a soul within us. ’Tisna just your body that is changing. Your feelings and faith are, too. You’ve come to the point where you recognize that fact.”

Mercy watched him nod his head as if he’d just solved the problems instead of starkly laying them out. Loneliness swamped her. No one could possibly understand—

“I’ll not insult you by spouting platitudes and saying I know how deep your sorrows flow.” The doctor gave her wrist a tiny squeeze, then loosened his hold and slid his hand down until his fingers laced with hers. “I came today to promise to help you through the weeks and months—aye, and e’en the years ahead. As your doctor, I’ll inform you what to expect.

“If you’d like, I’ll loan you my little red book. I took care not to write the woman’s name in it, and she gave me leave to put down whate’er I wished. You needn’t worry that we’d be prying into her privacy. Think on it and let me know if you’d like that. Since you dinna hae a mother or grandma here to instruct you from a woman’s perspective, it might be nice.”

Mercy couldn’t unknot all of the feelings coiling inside her. His offer was everything she needed but not what she wanted. Why couldn’t one of the ladies from church pay a visit and privately teach her such intimate things? But the women all kept their distance and withheld their counsel—yet the doctor didn’t because he felt she and this babe were blameless.

“You asked why God is punishing you. Terrible things happen, but they are not always His doing.”

“But He lets them happen.”

“There’s no denying that.” He paused. “Hae you e’er noticed that for all the trials that beset Job, God ne’er took His hand off the man? Just as surely as I stand here and hold your hand in mine, He is with you and has not loosened His grip.”

One by one, Mercy uncurled her fingers. She dragged her hand free from the doctor’s hold. “Job’s friends still stayed by his side.”

The doctor snorted. “Some friends. Even Job’s wife told him to ‘Curse God, and die.’ That kind of help is worse than none a-tall. Job held fast to his faith, and that’s why the story has such a grand ending.”

“There’s not a good ending for my story. There can’t be.”

“I disagree. To say that, you give up your faith in God’s love and goodness.”

Mercy closed her eyes. Pain washed over her. The loneliness she felt wasn’t just for friends. In the maelstrom life had become, she’d lost her faith, too.

“Earlier, you asked why God’s punishing you. In the midst of all this, dinna be shy of asking those hard questions.”