Brides of Texas

by Hake, Cathy Marie

  “Rob?” A man stood in the barn’s doorway.

  It’s not Otto. He hasn’t come ever since—

  “I startled Miss Stein, Chris. ’Tis all.” The doctor looked at her. “I came by to check on your grandda.”

  Mercy made no reply. She led him to the house and stood by while he changed her grandfather’s dressing. As he tied it into place, he said, “Mr. Stein, whilst you’re recovering, you’ll need a strong back and an extra pair of hands about the place. I’ve brothers—either Christopher or Duncan will ride out each morning to help.”

  “I could use the help, but I need to be up.”

  The doctor nodded. “That you do. Your muscles will weaken if left unused. My brother Duncan made you a walking stick. I’ll allow you to use it ‘round the house, but ’tis all. No taking the steps off the porch for another few days, else you’ll suffer a terrible setback.”

  After Grossvater was up in a chair in the parlor, the doctor left. Mercy fussed around in the house all day. Though her hands stayed busy, her mind spiraled into a near panic. Four endless days had passed, but Otto hadn’t yet come over. She took bread from the oven and searched for something—anything—else to do.

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the veranda, then someone knocked. “I’ll get it,” Grossvater said.

  Though she didn’t know that he ought to be moving around much, Mercy allowed Grossvater to answer the door. She didn’t want anyone to see her.

  “Come, Mercy.” For the first time since it happened, Grossvater sounded like his old self.

  Mercy wiped her hands on the hem of her apron and went to him. As long as she kept her face turned, no one would have to see—

  “Otto’s here.” Grossvater’s words stunned her. Otto never knocked. Fully assured of his welcome, he always barged in.

  “I killed a man.” Anguish permeated Otto’s stark words. Emotion contorted his features. “With my own hands, I killed him.”

  “You did.” Mercy didn’t move an inch. Look at me. No, don’t. But at least draw me into the shelter of your arms.

  “It was a bad thing.” Otto’s voice was nothing more than a ragged whisper.

  Mercy couldn’t hold back a strangled sound. The man she loved was trying to reassure her and chose his words so as not to shame her. The doubts and worries the past days fostered gave way to relief. She stepped forward, finally free to lean into Otto’s consolation. Her arms barely started to close around him; her bruised cheek scarcely grazed the fabric of his shirt when he jerked away from her.

  Mercy’s head snapped back. “Ot—”

  “I killed a man!” He stared at her. This wasn’t the Otto she knew. His eyes weren’t sparkling with laughter or lit with gentle love.

  Her arms dropped woodenly to her sides.

  Grossvater hobbled closer and managed to keep his balance while still wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You did your best, Otto. You tried to protect those you love.”

  Leather creaked loudly in the awkward silence as Otto shifted from one boot to the other.

  “With God’s help, we will get beyond this,” Grossvater said.

  I don’t know that I’ll ever get beyond it.

  Otto cleared his throat. “The wedding.”

  Not our wedding? The wedding? Mercy started to tremble anew.

  “It’s thoughtful of you, Otto, to give my granddaughter a little time.”

  In that moment, Mercy knew the truth. Otto’s expression told her more than words could. The brutal truth hit her. “There will be no wedding.”

  “Mercy—” Grossvater began.

  The dainty ring burned as she twisted it off her finger. “I no longer hold you to your promise.”

  Although Otto didn’t reach for it, he didn’t make an attempt to try to reassure her that their love could weather this catastrophe.

  Tightening his hold on her, Grossvater growled, “There’s no reason to be hasty—”

  “I do not blame her,” Otto said thickly. “I cannot live with myself, knowing I have killed a man.”

  “There’s nothing wrong,” Grossvater said, “with a man protecting those he loves.”

  Mercy trembled—unsure of what to do. Can it be that Otto needs my love and acceptance now, more than ever, just as I need his?

  Otto looked at her. Never once had she seen him cry, but tears traced down his sunburned cheeks. “It was not about protection. He’d already done his worst. I sought vengeance.” His hands came up and formed an ever-tightening circle. “I took a man’s life. How am I to know God would not have redeemed him someday? All that was right and pure between us—what he did couldn’t ruin that. What I did—that defiled everything.”

  Grossvater took the ring from her nerveless fingers and passed it to Otto.

  “Excuse me.” Robert pushed through a gaggle of women at the mercantile and frowned. “Stand back. ’Tis too close in here.” If it weren’t for the cracker barrel behind Mercy and Carmen Rodriguez propping her up, the lass would be flat out on the plank floor.

  His inclination was to scoop her up, but Robert quelled that at once. Mercy spooked too easily. If she roused much, she’d likely fall apart as he carried her to his office. He knelt beside her and hoped she couldn’t hear the suppositions the busybodies behind him whispered. When the community heard of Otto killing a man, Otto’s mother sought to defend her son—but at Mercy’s expense. As if the poor lass hadn’t suffered enough, she’d been denied the ability to keep what had happened private.

  Miss Rodriguez used her hankie to blot Mercy’s brow. “If you help her over to my house, I can see to her. It’s probably just…constriction.”

  Robert slid one hand behind Mercy’s neck and unfastened the uppermost button on her high-collared shirtwaist. Taking her pulse necessitated unfastening the mother-of-pearl buttons on her cuff. Mercy’s lids began to flutter, and he announced, “With that stove roaring, ’tis hotter than Lucifer’s laundry pot in here. Miss Stein? Ah, there we are.” He tilted her wan face toward his. “The heat’s claimed you. Miss Rodriguez here is going to accompany us back to my office.”

  “I—I just need a moment.” Mercy’s words sounded every bit as faint as she looked.

  “I agree.” He nodded. “A short rest and a nice dipper of water will go a long way toward helping you.”

  Miss Rodriguez patted her. “I’ll stay right beside you. The nice doctor is going to help you up now.” She drew closer and whispered, “Mercy, he’s strong. He can carry you.”

  The very last vestige of color bled from Mercy’s face.

  “She’ll lean on me. We all understand the necessity.” Robert pulled Mercy to her feet and wound his arm around her slender waist.

  Back in his office, Robert managed to get Mercy alone in the examination room. She promptly declared, “Truly, I’ve recovered. It was just the heat.”

  “I’m not so sure of that.”

  Primly buttoning her cuff, she said, “If it’s not the heat, then it must be something I ate.”

  Robert pressed a glass of water into her hands in order to keep her seated on his examination table. He asked several questions, purposefully posing them in a rambling fashion so she wouldn’t have a sense of what he needed to ascertain.

  “This is unnecessary. It was simply the heat. Just as you said at the mercantile, all I needed was water and a short rest. I’m better.” She looked ready to make a dash for freedom.

  Sick to the depths of his soul, Robert rested his hand on her forearm. “No, you’re not. Miss Stein, you’re with child.”

  Chapter 5

  Cold dread washed over her. For weeks now, she’d lived in terror of this possibility. Night and day, she’d begged God to spare her this. The last two weeks, her anxiety had mushroomed. Still, she didn’t want to believe it could be so. “I truly must go.” Mercy twisted to the side and slid off the table.

  “Miss Stein—”

  She shook off the doctor’s hand. “Grossvater needs me.” Desperate to get away, she opened th
e door out into his waiting room.

  Carmen Rodriguez hopped to her feet. “Are you feeling better now? You’ve never swooned before.”

  “Then I suppose it was my turn. I really must get home.”

  “I’m due to pay a call on your grandda.” Dr. Gregor picked up his black leather satchel. “I’ll accompany you.”

  “Oh, that’s so kind of you. I’d have worried myself sick if Mercy went home alone.”

  “Mercy!” Peter burst into the doctor’s office.

  “What are you doing out of school?”

  “Teacher sent David to get more chalk from the mercantile. He told me—”

  “Tales,” Mercy said flatly. “We do not listen to tales, Peter. Now you march right on back to school.”

  The doctor waited until her little brother left, then he chuckled. “And to think I always thought growing up with older brothers was difficult!” As Carmen laughed, he smoothly took hold of Mercy’s elbow. “Now that everything is settled, let’s go see your grandda.”

  “He’s fine. You saw him yourself at church just yesterday—and the two Sundays before that, as well.”

  “Aye, that I did. After six weeks of healing, the time’s come to regain the strength in his limb.”

  “Can you do that?” Carmen pressed a hand to her bosom. “It’s nothing short of miraculous how you didn’t have to amputate. No one expected him to ever walk again.”

  “God gets credit for all miracles,” the doctor said. “I take responsibility for the more ordinary—like teaching Mr. Stein some movements so his strength returns.”

  “And that Mercy rests,” Carmen added. “Good-bye, then. Oh! Mercy, Leonard brought over a pound of coffee. He said that’s what you came to town for.”

  Using that as an excuse to break away from the doctor’s hold, Mercy reached out and accepted the bag. “I’ll be sure to thank him when I go get my horse.” She knew the doctor didn’t own a horse, so Mercy figured she’d neatly managed to get rid of him entirely.

  She wasn’t that fortunate. Five minutes later, as they rode out of town, he’d finished telling her about how his brother Chris had bought the dappled mare for a pittance because it had been in such sorry shape. Clearly his medical skills extended toward beasts, too.

  He cleared his throat. “My apologies for speaking so much, but I assumed you didn’t want anyone asking questions, so I dominated the conversation.”

  Surprised by his insight, Mercy still grasped at the opening he’d provided. “Dr. Neely said he’d taken an oath to give patients privacy. Did you take that same vow?”

  “Aye. The Hippocratic oath.”

  “Good. Then you are not going to tell anyone…” She couldn’t bring herself to even say the words.

  Dr. Gregor said nothing.

  Terrified that a prompt agreement didn’t spring from his lips, Mercy halted. So did he. Ever since that day, she’d hardly looked directly at anyone. Deeply shamed, she couldn’t. But this was too important. “You took the oath. You must uphold it.”

  “ ’Tisn’t a secret that can be long kept.”

  “It can be kept until Grossvater is strong. Then I can go away.” She tore her gaze away from him and stared off in the distance.

  “Lass, your grandda willna be fully recovered for almost four more months. You’ll not be able to hide the truth until autumn.”

  “Of course I can.” I have to.

  “I canna begin to imagine how difficult this is for you, but I’ll be speaking plainly. Your brother will say something about you fainting. Even if you admonish Peter to remain silent, any one of a half dozen of the people who were in the mercantile will mention the episode to your grandda.”

  The reins slithered through her fingers. Everything was slipping through her fingers—her love, her reputation, and now even this.

  The doctor leaned forward and collected a rein. Pressing it back into her hand, he murmured, “For your own sake as well as his, don’t you think it would be best if we told him now?”

  She gave no answer. They reached the farm shortly thereafter, and the doctor’s brother sauntered in from the nearest field. Either or both of the doctor’s brothers came each day. At first, they’d come into the house to ask Grossvater what needed to be done. As he’d improved, Grossvater made it a point to be out on the porch to meet them.

  The doctor dismounted and helped her down. His brother strode over, and the two of them greeted each other as if they’d been separated for a year. The second Duncan turned her way, Mercy dipped her head.

  “Your grandda is in the barn, Miss Stein. I brought over some of my tools, and he’s repairing harnesses and the like.”

  “That was good of you. I’ll go get lunch.”

  Duncan chuckled. “Only for yourself. We found the sandwiches you left and polished them off. Rob, while you’re here, take a look at Freckle’s runt.”

  “He’s in the barn?”

  “Aye.” Duncan headed back out to the field.

  The doctor looked at her. “Would you like to eat first?”

  Rage swept through her. “First? The decision is mine to make.”

  “Yes, ’tis.” He didn’t pause for a second to frame his reply. “But Freckle isna about to let me near her wee little pup unless you’re there.”

  He’d spoken the truth. Freckle didn’t mind anyone playing with the other puppies, but she’d become unaccountably protective of the runt. Heaving a sigh, Mercy walked toward the barn. It’s only Monday. I’ll have a few days as long as I make sure Peter says nothing.

  “Schatze! Did you have a nice trip to town?”

  Mercy evaded the question. “Grossvater, look at you! I didn’t know we had so many leather things.”

  A proud smile lit his face. “These are just the things that needed care. Most were still in working condition, but with a little attention, they’ll last much longer.”

  The doctor set down his satchel. “That saddle is a thing of beauty.”

  “It was my son’s.” Grossvater gently buffed an edge. “Mercy’s mama gave it to him the year they were married. Peter is about the age where he will treasure it.”

  “So you will give it to him for his birthday?” Mercy nodded. “He will be very pleased.”

  “If you’re done riding for the day, I’ll unsaddle your horse,” the doctor offered.

  “Ja, that is kind of you.” Grossvater smiled. “And then I will ask you to help me hide this saddle.”

  Mercy added, “Peter’s birthday is next month—on the fourth of July.”

  “There’s a fine date.” The doctor sauntered out to get her horse.

  Independence Day…but I’ll never be free again. In the doctor’s absence, Mercy slipped away from Grossvater and leaned over Freckle’s box. She scratched between the mutt’s ears. The whole time the doctor unsaddled her horse, she lavished attention on Freckle and admired each pup. Finally, she lifted the runt. “I’ll bring her right back.”

  “Duncan tells me the wee one isna feelin’ so chipper.”

  Grossvater let out a deep sigh. “She crept out of the box today and followed Peter. While he was doing the milking, Evalina stepped on the runt’s tail.”

  “Let’s see.” The doctor stepped closer. Mercy tried to hand him Dot, but he made a dismissive gesture. “I’ll be better able to assess her tail if both hands are free.”

  His breath washed over her wrists, and Mercy longed to pull away. Deft and gentle, he examined the runt. The very last place he touched was its tail, and the pup whimpered.

  “Ooch, now, there’s a shame.” The doctor crooked his forefinger and rubbed the runt between her ears, just as Mercy had done to Freckle. “Puir wee pup. Tail’s broken.”

  “I feared that.” Grossvater sounded grim. “Freckle’s been licking it, but the skin’s broken, and the runt’ll get gangrene. We’ll put it down before Peter gets home.”

  “He’s blaming himself already,” Mercy murmured.

  “Now, that’s premature.” The doctor final
ly took Dot from her and cuddled the pup to the center of his broad chest.

  Half an hour later, Mercy put Dot back with Freckle. “She doesn’t have the part of her tail with the spot that we named her for.”

  “Stubby.” The doctor’s voice sounded vaguely humored.

  Grossvater chortled. “Stubby! Ja, it is a good name.”

  Mercy straightened up.

  “Mercy.” Grossvater’s voice suddenly sobered. “You do not laugh? Was ist den loss?”

  What is the matter? Grossvater sometimes lapsed into German when he was emotional. He looked from her stricken expression to the doctor and back. Then he groaned and rubbed his hand down his face.

  Everything in her wanted to scream a denial, to run. But no sound would come out of her mouth, and her feet wouldn’t move.

  The doctor pressed something into her hand. Mercy stared down at the handkerchief for a moment before she realized she was crying. Finally, she rasped, “I will go away.”

  “Nein!” Grossvater got to his feet and limped with the cane as fast as he could toward her.

  “Are you wanting to be alone?” the doctor asked her softly as Grossvater approached.

  Mercy nodded. A moment later, she and Grossvater wrapped their arms about one another. He stroked her back. “I won’t let you go. You are not to blame, and neither is the child.”

  “But Grossvater—” She couldn’t put into words all she felt.

  “No sneaking off to hide.” He held her tighter. “I have worried there might be a child. I have prayed. This child—we will love it, for it is yours.”

  The ball in her throat made it hard to speak at all, but she managed a strangled whisper. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “We can.” Grossvater’s voice held great determination. “Ja, with God’s help, we can do this.”

  Mercy clung to him. With God’s help? Why did He not help me so all of this didn’t happen? Even if just the baby didn’t happen? How am I to trust Him to help me now, when He’s ignored my cries for so long?

  “Dr. Gregor?”

  Rob halted and looked across the street. “Aye?”

  Carmen Rodriguez motioned toward him. He crossed the road and joined her on her veranda. “I’ve been wondering…” she half whispered. Color filled her cheeks. “Mr. Stein is doing whatever you showed him to do, and his recovery is remarkable. I was wondering…”