Brides of Texas

by Hake, Cathy Marie

  “You didn’t have any of these animals in Scotland?”

  “Skunks, armadillos, and opossums are all American creatures.”

  “Was it hard to give up all you’d known and come so far from home?”

  “ ’Twas equal parts anticipation and fear. Losing Da on the way near broke my heart—but my brothers…” He tucked more beans in the sack. “We’re here together. That’s what counts.”

  “And so now you make a new home.”

  Rob winked at her. “And we built one, too. Chris is proud of that house. Dinna e’er take exception to his grumbling. He takes a secret pride in finding ways to complain just so we can admire it aloud all over again. Remember those scalloped shingles for part of the clapboarding? Just last night, he stood in the yard and complained that our house has more scales than a fish.”

  Finally, a smile chased across her face and brightened her eyes. “You must tell him something. He isn’t a Scotsman any longer. By telling such a tall tale, he proved he is now a Texan. That means it is not just a house; now it is a home, for this is where you will all stay. Texans never want to leave.”

  “So you’re stuck with us forever.” As soon as he spoke the thought, Rob practically dropped the harvesting bag. I almost said “me” instead of “us.” How can it be? Just as quickly, the answer struck him with blinding clarity. Da was right. He warned me I’d close off my feelings so I wouldna feel my patients’ pain. All along, I’ve struggled with keeping my distance from Mercy. More and more, what she needed and wanted mattered to me. The reason—†tis plain as can be. Over these months I’ve lost my heart to the lass, and I didna even know it.

  Reluctantly, Mercy shut the hymnal and got up from the piano stool. Ever since the doctor pointed out how she’d been using music to talk to God, she’d found great solace in singing, playing, or even humming. Then, too, the psalms of David suddenly took on a whole new meaning. He’d been sorely troubled often in his life, yet he’d used his psalms and played his harp to tell God how he felt.

  The spicy scent of pumpkin permeated the house. Pumpkins with stems would store well for a long while, but those without stems tended to spoil. She’d baked three pies and six loaves of pumpkin bread and had roasted pumpkin seeds. Tomorrow she and Carmen would make pumpkin marmalade and can puree.

  Puree. Mercy stared out the window. When do babies start eating food like that?

  Peter burst through the door.

  Mercy automatically called out, “Wipe your feet!” Stubby scampered past her. She heaved a sigh and swept up the pup. “Peter, you know the rule. You must train—” Her voice died out as Grossvater shouldered past Peter to ease something through the door. He took a few steps into the house, then set the oak piece on the floor. A light push set the cradle into a gentle rock.

  “There!” Grossvater nodded approvingly. “It is still as good as it was when I made it to hold your own papa.”

  Mercy started to shake as the runners rocked a rhythm of impending doom.

  Grossvater wound his arm around her. “The day I finished this and gave it to your grandmother, we put it by our bed. Each morning, we stood beside it and prayed for a healthy child and that we would be good parents. I will stand beside you, Mercy. We will pray those same things.”

  I don’t know if I can be a good mother. And Grossvater—he is old. He will not be here all of the years it will take to rear this babe. Panic started to envelop her. Her heart hammered loud in her ears. Gott in Himmel, how will I ever—

  “We can do this together,” Grossvater crooned.

  Mercy bowed her head. She didn’t want to admit her doubts or confess her worries. Regardless of his assurance, the fears exploded.

  “Mr. Stein,” a voice came from the doorway. “Have you—”

  The beat got louder and drowned out the man’s words. Boots stepped between her and the cradle—the doctor’s boots. Instinctively, Mercy reached for him as everything started to swirl around her.

  Chapter 14

  There now, lass.” Rob blotted Mercy’s colorless face. He wasn’t sure whether he was trying to comfort her or reassure himself. On a medical level, she was fine—but that didn’t take into account her feelings. In the midst of her panic, she reached out to me. That counts for something.

  Another mewling sound came from her as her eyes fluttered again. This time they stayed open. Rob fought the urge to scoop her into his arms and murmur all was well. Instead, he leaned over her bed and said in a stern tone, “You canna be wearin’ that whalebone cage any longer.”

  As she gasped, Mercy’s hand fumbled beneath the bedsheet.

  “I cut it off. An absolute wonder ’tis that you’ve not been swooning thrice a day whilst being constricted so severely.” The whole time he chided her, he tenderly petted back tiny wisps of hair that coiled around her face.

  “You cut it?” Her whisper held a squeak of outrage.

  “The laces, I did.” He scowled. “Though if you dinna give me your word that you’ll leave it off, I’ll consider cutting some other part to render it unusable.”

  Color filled her cheeks as she turned her face away.

  Determined to be matter-of-fact so she’d get over her embarrassment, he stated, “You needn’t fret o’er this discussion. ’Tis common sense, a woman not trussing herself up whilst she’s with child—especially in her last months.”

  Mercy refused to look back at him. Rob placed his hand on her tummy, and she went as rigid as her stays had been. “The babe—†tis growing fast now and needs to be free to tumble.” As if on cue, the mound beneath his palm squirmed. “In this next month, the freedom you give the babe is vital—†twill allow him to settle his head downward. Trussed in the corset, your body canna yield sufficient room. I’m tryin’ to spare you a breech birthing.”

  Still, she said nothing. Until now, Mercy hadn’t ever allowed him to examine her. Other than peppering their private conversations with medical information and providing her with the little red book, Rob hadn’t been in a position of asserting himself. May as well seize this opportunity. He slid one hand over hers and dragged it downward. “Feel this? ’Tis round and hard—the babe’s head. Down here, ’tis round, too—but soft. ’Tis his backside.”

  At least she wasn’t jerking away.

  “When he’s kicking and pushing, which side do ye feel it on most?”

  A few seconds passed, then she feathered her fingers to the left.

  “Ah, so that’s the way he’s facin’.” Rob chuckled. “And kickin’! He’s got some strength.”

  Mercy pushed away his hands. “I have work to see to.”

  “As do I. I’m on my way out to pay a call on the Stuckys.”

  “Someone is sick?” Finally, Mercy looked at him.

  “Not exactly.” Rob hitched his shoulder. “Their stallion’s got more spirit than sense. He kicked out of his stall. I put stitches in him late last week, and the time’s come to remove them.”

  “They don’t have a goat or a mule.” Mercy held the sheet clear up to her nose. “One would help.”

  “How would a goat help me remove sutures?”

  “A goat or a mule in a stable makes the horses calm down. You could borrow Sadie.”

  “Sadie has a knack for chewing my clothes. I’ll have you come along.”

  Mercy’s eyes grew huge. “Are you calling me a goat?”

  Rob stared at her. “Of course not. How did you—oh.” He gave her an apologetic grin. “I can see how that must have sounded. I meant that if I had you along, you’d make Sadie behave while Sadie made the stallion mind his manners. Somewhere in the midst of that, I lost both my mind and my manners.”

  “It was a simple mistake is all.”

  He turned toward her wardrobe. “I presume your blue-and-white frock is in here.” Ignoring her splutters, he opened the door and carried on in a conversational tone, “I’m not one to pay much mind to what a woman wears, but this one you’ve stitched for yourself caught my attention.”

 
“Because it’s the size of a revival tent,” she muttered.

  “Nae, not a-tall. My ma—she had a plate she dearly prized. Delft, she called it. This frock, it puts me in mind of that plate. Just seein’ you in it makes my day improve.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “I’ll drape it here and wait for you out in the parlor.”

  “I need to stay and see to supper. Peter can go with you.”

  Rob didn’t argue with her. He left her room, pulled the door shut, and walked over toward the kitchen where Mr. Stein and Peter stood.

  “My granddaughter—”

  “Is fine.” He grinned at Peter. “When your sister grew faint, I’m sure she accidentally put Stubby in the cradle. Best you take him back out to the barn ere she sees him in there.”

  Peter snickered and dashed to freedom with the puppy.

  Rob cast a glance at the bedroom door. “Mercy’s needing some fresh air. I aim to have her accompany me to the Stu—” Rob halted when Mr. Stein shook his head.

  “This is not done.” Mr. Stein’s voice came out in the barest of whispers. “You do not know our ways. For a young man and woman to spend time together, alone—”

  “I’ve been in Texas a little over half a year.” Rob stared into the old man’s eyes. In that moment, everything felt so right. “I’m fully aware of the implications. I came here today to declare my intent.”

  Mr. Stein shook his head. “I made a mistake once before. Without praying about it, I told Otto he could have my granddaughter as his wife.”

  “I’ve not spoken rashly.” Robert tapped his chest. “In my heart and soul, I ken Mercy’s the one for me.”

  “Robert Gregor, you’re as fine a man as God’s made, but that doesn’t change my stance. I’ll not lean on my own understanding and let her suffer heartbreak as the result again. Until I’m certain that it is God’s will for her to be yours, you are not to court her. This isn’t about what men think or want. It’s about waiting on the Lord and seeking His wisdom.”

  “Fair enough,” Rob said. “Until I spoke with the Almighty o’er this, I kept silent. God doesna change. He’ll be givin’ you the same assurance He gave me.”

  Sadness radiated from Mr. Stein’s craggy features. “Only a great work of God will give my Mercy any peace.”

  Hearing Mercy’s soft footfall, Rob pointed at the pie and raised his voice ever so slightly. “Give her two pieces. I’m supposing she was so busy baking, she forgot to eat at midday.”

  Her door opened and she emerged.

  “Mercy, when you brought lunch out to the field, you did not eat.” Her grandfather shook his finger at her. “You must eat for two.”

  “If I eat any more, I’ll grow bigger than Evalina!”

  “You’re hardly in danger of being even half the size of your milk cow.” Rob rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “If you give me your word that you’ll not skip meals and will have either a glass of Evalina’s fine milk or a slice of cheese between those meals, we’ll not fuss at you about what you eat.”

  “You need not fuss. When I’m working in the kitchen, I take tastes.”

  “Mercy Stein!” Rob managed to sound scandalized. “You baked today. Are you telling us you licked the bowls?”

  A fetching blush tinted her cheeks. “And what do you know about licking bowls, Dr. Gregor?”

  “Not nearly enough. ’Tis the drawback of having big brothers.” He gave her a woebegone look. “From now on, I’m going to have to plan a house call on the days you bake. Aye, I am.”

  “Is he gone?” Carmen peeked around the door.

  “Who?” Mercy pretended not to know what she meant.

  “The doctor.” Carmen came in and clomped toward the table. “Duncan mentioned his little brother was coming by here today.”

  “It is hard to think of the doctor as being anyone’s little brother.” Mercy finished icing the cake. She fought the urge to look at the bowl over on the counter. The doctor had swiped his finger all along the inside of the bowl and licked the batter off his finger as the cake baked in the oven. Once or twice a week he came by. Though he never stayed long, his visits invariably left Mercy feeling…better.

  Carmen leaned against the counter, but she didn’t take off her shawl. “All three of those Gregor men could masquerade as giants.”

  “Ja, this is true.” Mercy looked at her friend. “But something is bothering you. Why don’t we have some coffee and cake and talk about it?”

  Carmen’s features twisted. “You might not want me to stay.”

  “Nonsense.” Mercy put down the butter knife and poured two cups of coffee.

  “I don’t know what to say or do.” Carmen flopped onto a chair. Her dark eyes filled with tears. “I love my sister. You know I do.”

  “Of course.” Mercy sat beside her.

  Carmen snatched her hand and held it tight. “Her good news is our bad news. Mercy, Otto asked her to marry him.”

  The news left Mercy feeling strangely old and empty. “You must tell Ismelda I wish her to be happy.”

  “But doesn’t it break your heart for Otto—” Carmen pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

  “You didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, and you have not.” Mercy stared through the open doorway to her room and spied the cradle. “Things have changed. Otto is a different man, and I am a different woman. The dreams of my girlhood are long gone.”

  Carmen’s hold on her hand tightened. “It’s a good match, but I’m jealous. Isn’t that awful of me? Mercy, no man has ever expressed any interest in me. I’m the older sister. By custom, I’m supposed to marry first—but I’m going to be a crippled old spinster, and Ismelda will have a husband and children.”

  Mercy twisted and pulled Carmen’s head down onto her shoulder. Holding her, she whispered, “It is hard when dreams die.”

  “What do I do now?”

  Mercy finally straightened up and rubbed her back. “All around us, we see girls marry and have babies. We both assumed that would be God’s plan for us, too. Now, instead of telling God what we think, we have to ask Him what He wants.”

  “I’m in trouble, then.” Carmen sniffled and tried to smile. “I’m far better at talking than at listening.”

  “Me, too. I’ve started to sing hymns and recite Bible verses. I read one a few days ago. It was where David is talking to Solomon. ‘For the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth all the imaginations of the thoughts: if thou seek him, he will be found of thee.’ So see? God knew our dreams. But it is our job to seek Him instead of what we imagined for ourselves.”

  Carmen looked at her for a long while. “You’re right, Mercy. You have changed. Months ago you were a girl with stars in your eyes. Now you are a woman.”

  “Life changes us all. I’m trying to change in the ways God wants me to. I have to—not just for myself, but for my baby.”

  Carmen didn’t end up staying long. After she left, Mercy added seasonings to the split peas and a ham bone in the simmering soup pot. Finished with other chores, she sat in the rocking chair in the parlor and darned Peter’s socks. Once those were repaired, she stared into her sewing bag. A small ball of yarn and several crochet hooks rested there. Slowly, she took out the yarn and selected a hook.

  The first thing her mother taught her to crochet had been a cap for her doll. As Mercy started the hook into motion, she began to sing the hymn her mother had sung that day. Weißt du, wie viel Sternlein stehen…Do you know how many stars…

  “Dr. Gregor!”

  Rob kneed his mount toward the fence. “Mr. Stein.”

  “I have something to ask.”

  Rob kicked out of the stirrups and dismounted. “Aye?”

  “This baby my granddaughter carries—what do you think?”

  “I think he’s going to be healthy enough to bellow down your house.” Rob grinned. “Which is why he should grow up in mine.”

  The old man’s weathered face broke into a smile. “So y
ou would allow Mercy to keep this child?”

  “ ’Tis borne of the woman I love. That alone will cause me to love him.” Rob tipped back his hat. “If Mercy wishes to keep the babe, ‘twill be ours.”

  “If she wishes to keep it?” The old man looked scandalized.

  “Aye.” Robert didn’t back down. “You and I love Mercy and will love her child. But Mercy—she was forced. In the end, she must decide whether she can love the babe entirely or if it would be best to give him to a childless couple. It is a choice only she can make.”

  “Have you said something to her?”

  “Not yet.” Rob squinted toward the house. “I know of a couple, but that doesn’t mean they are meant to have this baby. I’ve held my silence and waited for Mercy and God to show me what’s right.”

  “But a woman who could give away her own flesh and blood—”

  “Is a woman who is honest with herself and willing to give that baby a better life than she herself could give the child, holding the feelings she may have. I love Mercy. That love willna change regardless of whate’er decision she might make.”

  Mr. Stein let out a long sigh. “I was so busy praying about whether you were right for her, I never thought to pray about if I was giving her the right guidance myself.”

  “Grossvater!” Peter shouted from the porch. “Supper!”

  Mr. Stein slapped Rob on the back. “Come. Stay for supper.”

  They stopped at the pump and washed up before entering the house. “I hope you don’t mind—” Rob began.

  Mercy turned from the stove. “I’ve said you are always welcome. Peter saw you, so we have a place waiting—see?”

  “What have you done?” Mr. Stein’s voice was rich with emotion.

  Rob had been so intent on Mercy, he’d not noticed anything else. He looked over his shoulder at Mr. Stein.

  Mercy breezed past them and into the parlor. “I’ve been busy.” A shy smile flirted at the corners of her mouth as she started to tuck little bits into her sewing box. “It’s probably well past time that I started making my baby some clothes.”