Brides of Texas (5 page)

How could life ever be ordinary again? Swollen as her left eye had become, she could see only a narrow strip out of it. The cuffs on her sleeves rubbed against the tender bruises on her wrists.

Shame and embarrassment kept her from accepting care from the new doctor. He’d tried to be helpful, but Mercy wanted to forget what happened. The aches in her body, heart, and soul wouldn’t let her forget, though. The doctor said he’d leave this morning. She hoped he’d keep his word—in fact, that he’d sneak in, check on Grossvater’s leg, and be gone by the time she got back to the house. She didn’t want to face him—or anyone—today.

Pouring the milk into the separator strained her wrists. Everything she’d done this morning—combing her hair, washing her face, milking the cow—all of the simple pleasures of life had been tainted by painful reminders. Mercy felt a bolt of hatred. She’d never hated before, but she knew exactly what the emotion was.
I’m glad Otto killed him
. The thought went through her mind again.
Even hell is too good for a wicked man like that
.

A roar of pain echoed from the house.

M
ercy tossed aside the milk pail and ran for the house. She tore through the door and ran full tilt into Grossvater’s bedroom, only to bump smack into a broad back. She shoved the doctor aside and stopped cold. The sheriff stood by the bedside, and anguish contorted Grossvater’s dear face. She’d seen that look only once before—when Grossmuter died.

Grossvater turned his head and looked at her. Tears filled his eyes.

“What have you done?” she cried to the sheriff.

Hands curled around her shoulders from behind. She immediately struggled to free herself.

“Shh, lass.”

“You told! You didn’t have to tell him.” Tears she couldn’t hold back broke forth as her knees gave out. Strong hands gently tightened about her—not in binding restraint, but in comfort. The doctor kept her from collapsing.

“There’ll be time to talk later,” the deep baritone said from over her shoulder.

Mercy buried her face in her hands as the doctor turned her and led her from the room. He took her to the kitchen, leaned against the cupboard, and held her as she fell apart. “Why?” She finally looked up at him. “Why didn’t you protect him? You could have spared him.”

“Connant told him, Mercy.” Slowly, he wiped tears from her cheeks.

“He had no business, no right—”

His blue eyes were somber and his face grim. “Peter was already awake. I sent him over to the neighboring farm with a request to borrow some honey. Your grandfather woke, and his first words were about the two of you.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“One look at your face and he would have known, Mercy. No man could mistake the truth.”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head.
So everyone who ever looks at me again will know? Lord, how will I ever endure such shame
?

He clasped her to his chest and held her there. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear. Quietly he said, “I’m sure Connant wanted to spare you from having to tell him, Mercy. You’re worried about protecting your grandfather; Connant was trying to make this easier on you.”

She pushed away. “Easier? Easier! Nothing about this is easy. It is awful. It is evil.”

“You’re right. What happened was evil.”

Sheriff Gilchrist’s boots shuffled on the plank floor. He cleared his throat. “Mercy? Your grandfather wants you.”

Mercy started to cross the floor, then paused. She didn’t look at the sheriff or the doctor. Clutching her hands together, she murmured, “You men should go now. There is nothing for you to do here.” Her voice caught, then she added, “Too much has already been said and done.”

As she entered Grossvater’s bedroom, she heard the screen door shut.
If only I could run over, slam the door, and lock out the world
.

“Mercy,” Grossvater said from the bed. He’d wiggled his way up until he sat propped against the headboard. His face was ashen, his eyes haunted. It broke her heart when he silently stretched his arms wide to take her to his breast.

She wanted to fly across the room as she had when she was a small girl and lost her parents. He’d held her tight and provided a secure, loving life. Grossvater and Grossmuter did everything they could to fix her broken world. Grossvater couldn’t fix this, though. She was a woman now, and she’d have to live with this tragedy. Mercy tried hard to control her tumultuous feelings as she walked toward him with measured steps. “How are you feeling? How is your head? Your leg?”

“I’ll heal. But you, sweetheart—”

She sat on the edge of the bed and carefully leaned against him. His arms enfolded her. “Don’t say anything, Grossvater. Please, don’t.”

He bowed his head and kissed her hair.

Mercy stopped abruptly at the sight of the full egg basket by the chicken coop.
Who’s been here
? Chills raced up her arms. Evalina lowed over in the pasture.
I left her in the barn!

Mouth dry and heart pounding, Mercy started to back toward the house.
It can’t be that man again. Otto killed him. Otto—he probably came over to help. That’s it
. She let out a shaky breath.
Sturdy, reliable, devoted Otto. He still loves me!

The grating sound of a shovel indicated someone was in the barn, mucking out the stable. Yes, Otto would have thought of the animals’ welfare. The knot between her shoulders lessened, and she called out, “Otto?”

Footsteps sounded in the barn.

She tried to smile, but doing so pulled the skin. That tightness, teamed with the way she could only see a slice of anything from her left eye, registered.
He’ll see my face. I shouldn’t have called to him
. Mercy spun toward the side.

“Whoa!”

A scream ripped from her chest.

“I wasn’t meaning to alarm you, lass.” The doctor’s hands hovered beside her arms, but he didn’t make any contact.

Shuffling backward, Mercy called out, “Otto!”

“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.”