To Love Mercy © 2006 by Cathy Marie Hake
To Walk Humbly © 2006 by Cathy Marie Hake
To Do Justice © 2006 by Cathy Marie Hake
ISBN 978-1-63409-669-0
Ebook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-63409-824-3
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Published by Barbour Books, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever read something that sticks in your mind? My freshman year in high school I set out to read the entire Bible. Not just any Bible would do. I chose the Bible my daddy gave me many years previously on the Sunday I accepted Jesus into my heart—a black leather, red-letter, King James Version. Having grown up in a God-fearing, churchgoing home, I knew most of the stories in the Bible. Or so I thought. Then I embarked on an incredible journey for myself.
I was seeking to find what God wanted of me. Books have been written on what God wants. Sermons and songs address the matter. But my journey was to discover on an intensely personal basis what God willed of and for me. Micah 6:8 jumped off the page. “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”
Years—okay, decades—have passed, yet that verse still resonates with me. When I was asked to write this book, I prayed about it. In that year, I had three surgeries, a major car accident, and had to put my beloved dog to sleep. Through it all, I’ve clung to the knowledge that this verse isn’t one-sided. God is the final arbiter of justice, even if I do not see the results here and now. He continually covers me with His tender mercies, and I never walk alone because He is with me.
I hope you enjoy reading about the Gregor brothers. Each received a gift and a piece of advice from their father, Micah. Their heavenly Father uses that to open their hearts to some very special Texas brides.
Love,
Cathy Marie
Table of Contents
To Love Mercy
Prologue
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
To Walk Humbly
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
To Do Justice
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
Epilogue
To Love
MERCY
Prologue
April 3, 1892
Aboard the Anchoria in the Atlantic
You’ll stay together?”
Robert Gregor curled his hand around his father’s. “Aye, Da. You’ve my word on it.”
“Dinna be grieving, boy-o. ’Twas my wish to see you to the New World. As for me, my destination’s heaven. God and your mama will welcome me with open arms.”
The ship rolled gently, and sorrow as deep as the Atlantic washed over Robert. It didn’t come as a sudden shock but as a swell, carrying him from the security he’d known and leaving him adrift. Not yet. Please not yet. “We’ll see land in another day.”
“That you will.” His father had a way of putting together words to intensify their meanings. He’d done it now, and Robert felt the tide of life shift in those moments.
“Rob?” Duncan looked down from the upper bunk. His black hair stood up boyishly, making him look only half his age.
“Go fetch Christopher.” Robert knew his eldest brother would be pacing the deck. A restless man, Chris avoided situations where he’d bare his emotions or soul to others. Had it just been the four of them, he’d have stayed, but the ship teemed with hundreds of folks with nothing better to do than mind everyone else’s business. Christopher left the crowded steerage compartment round about midnight, grief ravaging his features.
Lord Almighty, must You take Da yet? Robert knew the answer. As a doctor, he’d witnessed births and deaths aplenty. Powerless to do anything but give comfort, he smoothed back Da’s thinning gray hair. “Save your breath, Da. The others’ll be here soon, and they deserve to hear your love.”
Minutes later, Christopher shouldered past the neighboring berths and knelt by the bunk. Duncan came to a halt behind him and rested a warm, calloused hand on his shoulder. Robert saw the tension in their jaws, the sheen of tears in their eyes. The Gregors were stoic with others, but among themselves, they always loved, laughed, and wept unabashedly—except for now. Time grew short, and Robert knew his brothers’ hearts were breaking, as was his, yet they both stayed strong for Da’s sake. A man ought to slip from this world and into God’s arms with the peace of knowing those he left behind would fare well.
“I’ve been blessed to have ye, lads.” Da drew in another breath. “Stay close to the Almighty so we’ll meet again at heaven’s gate.”
Each of them gave that promise without reservation.
Da squeezed Rob’s hand. “My da’s watch—to Chris.” He stared at his eldest and whispered, “Time is a gift, dinna waste it.”
Christopher nodded solemnly.
“Bible—I’m wanting Duncan to hae it. He’s a man of deep thoughts and quiet truths fit to soothe the soul.”
“I’ll treasure it, Da.” Duncan bent closer. “I’ll have a son and read to him as you read to us. He’ll know the Word of God, and Da—I’ll name him after you.”
A smile chased across Da’s features. Aye, Da’d been right, Robert observed. Duncan just spoke words that gave comfort.
Da then turned his head. “Robert—”
Rob leaned down and looked steadily into his father’s eyes. “You already gave me my gift, Da. I know what you sacrificed for me.” The compensation Da received for the arm he lost while working in the zinc mine had paid for Robert’s medical schooling.
Da smiled. “Mama’s ring. I kept it for ye, Son. Caring for bodies makes a doctor close off his heart so he doesn’t have to feel the pain. Dinna do that. Take a chance at love.”
Within the hour, it was all over. Rob wrapped Da; Christopher pushed everyone away and cradled his lifeless form up to the deck; Duncan carried the Bible. During the voyage, they’d assisted with other burials, but this was different. All thr
ee of them stood in a sorrowful knot as Chris prayed.
The Anchoria’s captain made a motion as he somberly said, “Lord, we commend the body of Micah Gregor to You and commit his mortal body to the deep until the day of Your return.”
It was over. Those who had come up to pay their respects murmured their condolences, then wandered off to leave the brothers some privacy.
Duncan opened the Bible. The ribbon marker was set in the book of Micah. He cleared his throat and read in an unsteady voice made thick with tears, “ ‘He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?’ ”
Christopher nodded solemnly. “Da did those things.”
Rob wrapped his arms about his brothers’ shoulders. “Aye, and we will, too, in his honor.”
Chapter 1
Ellis Island
The Gregor brothers stood shoulder to shoulder along the ship’s rail as the Anchoria cut through the choppy waters. The copper Statue of Liberty towered over their vessel, but her long-awaited welcome felt empty since Da wasn’t beside them to see the grand sight.
Duncan nudged Rob. “I’m thinking she has the biggest feet I’ve ever seen.”
His joke lightened the tension. All three brothers chuckled. It made sense that Duncan would notice such a detail, him being a cobbler.
All about them, folks craned to see the sight. Mamas clutched their children close, and men stood a bit taller. Freedom. Opportunity. They’d scrimped, saved, sacrificed, and some nearly starved to come to America. Seeing Liberty did something—they’d gotten here…Didn’t that mean other dreams and hopes could come true, too?
“Ellis Island,” a sailor announced through a megaphone. “First-class passengers, please remain aboard. We will assist you with all your needs. Second class and steerage, gather your belongings and prepare to disembark.”
“Remember what I told you,” Robert murmured to his brothers. He shot a meaningful look at a woman coughing into her handkerchief. Americans didn’t want diseased immigrants flooding their land. Processing newcomers through this facility allowed officials to turn back those they determined might be sickly. Robert had known that fact full well, but Da refused to listen. He’d insisted on making the voyage.
“We’re hale as horses,” Chris said as he withstood a hefty bump from someone on his other side. “I’m heartily sick of being crowded. I’m going below to get our gear.”
“I’ll come along.” Duncan shifted sideways.
Robert didn’t say a word. He’d given Da his promise that they’d stick together, and he’d meant it. From here on out, he’d be sure to keep what was left of his family intact. After an overcrowded, noisy voyage, the steerage compartment was eerily empty and silent. They walked down the companionway and wended past bunks to reach the berth they’d shared with so many others.
Chris and Duncan knelt and yanked Duncan’s trunk from beneath the bunk. Filled with a cobbler’s tools, the thing weighed a ton, but Duncan hefted it with relative ease.
Robert turned his hand over and felt under the bunk for a package he’d secured there when they’d first boarded.
“Is it there still?” Chris asked in an undertone.
“Aye.” Rob untied the corners and carefully reclaimed his precious supply of medications and medical instruments. Theft below decks had proven to be a persistent problem, and he’d taken care to protect these things from sticky fingers and shifty souls. “I’ll put this in my bag with the rest of the things now.”
Two battered suitcases, a physician’s bag, and a cobbler’s trunk. The Gregor brothers carried all their worldly possessions off the ship and onto American soil. In short order, workers herded them through lines and into a large wooden building. Workers chalked numbers on the immigrants’ baggage and gave them pasteboard tickets for each piece.
“I’ll have that.” A man tugged at Robert’s valise.
“No.” Robert held fast. “I’m a physician. ’Tis my bag.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” The man shot him a disgruntled look and went on down the line to the next men.
Duncan folded his arms and looked about. “Aboard the ship, the noise all rolled back on us. Here, I can make out all of the different tongues. How are they ever going to be able to ask us all questions and understand our answers? ’Tis like the Tower of Babel in here.”
“Chris.” Robert elbowed him. Christopher had an uncanny ability to learn languages. “How many do you hear?”
“German. Dutch. French. Russian. Some of it sounds like Latin, so I’d venture that it’s Spanish or Portuguese.” He shrugged. “Probably both. Judging from clothing, there are Slavs aplenty, too.”
Their group spent time in what looked remarkably like a livestock pen. Older folk slumped on wooden benches and toddlers fussed.
Women went one way; the men went the other. Robert watched in silence as each man underwent a cursory examination. Those with light sensitivity or red, runny eyes received marks on their coats. So did the ones whose coughs revealed consumption.
A father and son ahead of them were drawn off to the side; the son’s eyes were diseased—would the father stay in America while his son was shipped back home?
Lord Almighty, what a horrendous situation. Da wouldn’t have made it through this. You took him from us, and that was hard enough—but to have a stranger rip us apart would have been unbearable. I didn’t realize at the time just how merciful You were being.
“Destination?” The tall man at the desk looked at Duncan for an answer.
“Texas,” Christopher answered. He pulled Connant’s letter from his vest pocket and carefully laid it on the desk. Connant had enclosed a note with that letter, warning them that New York teemed with immigrants. Officials would be glad to hear the brothers would leave the area.
“I can see you’re all brothers.” The man gave them a friendly smile. “Black Irish?”
“Scots,” they said in unison.
“Brawny ones at that.” The man scribbled something on a document. Robert wondered how someone in the midst of this madhouse managed to stay cheerful all day. Perhaps the news that they were headed clear off to Texas pleased him. God, thank Ye for Connant’s friendship and sound advice.
“What trades do you boast?”
“Doctor, cobbler, and miner.” Christopher jabbed his thumb at each of them in turn.
“Make yourselves useful, men. America needs men of peace and productivity.” He stamped something and waved them onward.
“Now what?” Duncan frowned. “I’m not liking this business of them keeping our belongings somewhere.”
A lanky man with a fringe of bright orange hair beckoned them. He’d gathered several others around him who all looked to be from the Isles. “Immigrant Society!” he called loudly.
“Connant wrote about them.” Robert headed that way.
“There we are, then.” The man smiled broadly. The lilt in his voice sounded wonderfully familiar. “America’s a wondrous land, and I won’t be sayin’ otherwise, but I need to warn you that many an unscrupulous man waits across the harbor. They’ll make promises and take what little ye’ve left, but ’tis little to no help you’ll get back. The Immigrant Society will help, and ’tis honest. If you ken where ye be headed, we’ll help transport you there at minimal cost and less fuss.”
“Minimal cost and less fuss turned out to be an honest assessment,” Robert said later as he tucked his black leather bag beneath the train bench and took a seat.
Duncan chuckled. “It bewilders me, it does, how you recall every last word a body says. How long’s the trip to Texas?”
“Three days.” Christopher folded his arms across his chest and scanned the others filling the train car.
Robert watched the other passengers, too. Long ago, he’d learned he watched people just as avidly as Chris, but they saw entirely different things. Where from his clinical perspective he saw undertones in complexions, s
trained breathing, guarded moves, and grimaces from pain, Chris focused on eyes and hands because he’d learned to measure a man’s ability to help or do harm. Together, they would evaluate their fellow travelers and exchange terse comments if something struck them as important.
Duncan, on the other hand, slouched in the seat so he’d be at eye level with a small boy. They’d struck up a conversation, and once the train set in motion, Duncan wrapped his arm about the lad’s shoulder and nudged him to rest his head against Duncan’s ribs. It wasn’t but a few minutes ere the lad fell fast asleep, and the mama gave Duncan a look of sheer gratitude.
“Well?” Robert didn’t even look at Chris when he asked.
“Left of the bald man in the green jacket—man’s armed to the teeth. Behind us three rows are two Poles with more fight in their eyes than brains in their heads.”
“That’s all?” He slanted a glance at Chris and gave him a slow, easy grin.
“Aye.” Chris pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, folded his arms, and stretched his long legs out before him. “I could whip all three of ’em without breaking a sweat, and you could wash the scratches on my knuckles afterward if you were of a mind to be helpful.” His chin dipped to rest on his chest, he let out a throaty chuckle, and before long he slumbered.
Robert couldn’t sleep. Then again, he’d learned to do with less sleep than most men needed. Relentlessly, the train chugged across the nation, belching clouds of black smoke and covering mile after mile of this huge, strange country. The rhythmic clack-clack-clack as they advanced didn’t make him sleepy—it energized him.
Three days. Three days of stopping here and there. Of changing trains. Of going through big, stately cities that looked newer than anything Scotland boasted, past grand stretches where nothing but forests commanded the land, and past patchwork plots covered by verdant crops. The streets weren’t exactly paved with gold, but from where he sat and what he saw, Robert knew America offered what every man craved most: an opportunity to make something of himself.
Back home, the zinc mine was played out. Christopher would have faced the humiliation of having no way to earn a living. Folks couldn’t spend money on shoes when their bellies were empty, so Duncan had experienced a severe drop in demand for his skills. Even Robert found he’d been paid far less reliably by his patients. This would be a fresh start. They’d have a meager beginning, but that thought didn’t trouble him, or his brothers, one bit. Strong, motivated men could forge a new life. Besides, they had one another, and they had God. In the end, those were what mattered most.
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