That Certain Spark (14 page)

“A month. That’s all it’s going to take. Mercy’s going to be standing beside me at the altar a month after I met her—which means I have two weeks and two long days to go.”

“Impossible.” Taylor stabbed a clothespin onto the sheet while Enoch held the other end out of the dust.

The wait does seem impossible, but I’m not going to agree with her.
This wasn’t a time for banter. Upon meeting Mercy, he’d declared she’d be his wife and gone about courting his lady. Surely his twin comprehended his serious intent once she’d seen him in action. Only now, from her succinct answer, he realized she hadn’t gotten over her initial skeptical reaction.

“Nothing is impossible with God. God gave me this love for her. I have faith He’ll give her the same love for me.”

“Even if—and that’s a big
if
—Mercy shares your feelings of affection,” Taylor said, cramming on a few more clothespins, “a month is hardly a proper courtship.”

Enoch hooted. “Since when was propriety important to us?”

“It’s not just you, Enoch. Mercy’s a mother. She has to consider her child.”

“Of course we’ll consider Heidi. I already decided we’d have her carry a basket of something—I’ll have flowers railed in.” He felt inordinately proud of himself for having thought of that way of including her in the ceremony.

Pushing several damp strands of hair off her cheeks, Taylor gave him an impatient look. “I wasn’t referring to the ceremony. Remember the Melverts?”

“Aw, Taylor, that’s not even a logical comparison. Mercy, Heidi, and I will be happy together. That old man married Casey and Jan’s mother and put them through purgatory.”

“Or so they thought. That household was in an uproar for years. I’m still not convinced it was his fault.”

“You never liked darling little Jan and her frilly parasols.”

“Avoiding her became a pact among the girls. Spoiled little Jan stabbed us all with the tip of her parasol whenever no one was looking. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she bedeviled that poor man. Her mother shamelessly indulged her.”

Grabbing a fistful of wet dishcloths, he thrust them to the side. “Mercy does not indulge Heidi.”

“She dotes on her, and rightfully so—” Taylor held up a hand. “But if you do get married, Mercy will suddenly have to divide her time and attention. Heidi isn’t accustomed to having to share her.”

“When we get married,” he said, locking eyes with his twin, “Heidi will be gaining a daddy’s affection.”

“Don’t rush things.” Taylor shoved the dishcloths back one at a time. “I never thought I’d say this, but Grandmother was right. ‘The achievement isn’t worthwhile if it requires no endeavor.’ ” The achievement isn’t worthwhile if “Bunk. God’s grace is free.”

She shook her head. “No. It was bought at the dearest of costs. Christ achieved it—we received it.”

“True. It was His gift. The only thing more wretched than our taking that gift is refusing it, because we need it so desperately. The love God’s given me for Mercy is the same type of gift. I’m not about to turn my back and walk away. I’m running full tilt toward it.”

“The only thing you need to run toward is the telegraph office to send off that advertisement for a housekeeper.”

“I’ve been thinking . . .”

She pointed a clothespin at him. “That’s what landed us here.”

He grinned. “It sure is.”

“Lean over here.”

“Why?”

“I want to check to see how bad the damage is.” Before he could ask, she started prodding and poking at his head with her fingertips. “A horse had to have kicked you somewhere here. I’m sure of it. That’s the only possible explanation.”

“Sis?” He waited until her brows raised in silent query. “Which one of your patients kicked
you
?”

“None of them. It’s contagious. I’ve grown quite mad, living with you.”

“Then you ought to be relieved that I’ll be moving out once I marry Mercy.”

“You’re counting chickens.”

“I’m a vet. We’re experts at these things. I just saw one in the kitchen, as a matter of fact.”

“It would be better if you were an expert at hiring a housekeeper so we’d have one here to fry that chicken. I’m already trying to get the men in town to think of me as a physician, and they’re seeing me doing laundry and other domestic chores. In their eyes, it undermines my professional credibility. I’m going to nag you unmercifully.”

“Nothing you do can take Mercy away from me.”

Taylor gave him a jaded look. “It’s impossible to steal what never belonged to you. Don’t get me wrong—I like Mercy. Someday she’ll make a wonderful sister-in-law—but I’m talking about two seasons or two years from now. Not two weeks!”

Enoch planted his feet and crossed his arms. “I’m resolved.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m fetching her in fifteen minutes. I said we’d pick up Heidi from school and take a stroll. It’s astonishing how much I can learn about Mercy from her.”

“You’re using a daughter to spy on her mother?!”

“No. It’s not like that.”

“It’s conniving and invasive, and it takes advantage of a little girl.”

Jaw tight, Enoch stared at his sister. On one hand, he ought to be pleased she felt protective of Mercy and Heidi; on the other, her low opinion of him felled Enoch.
The only way she’s going to understand is to see us together.

So fifteen minutes later he returned with them, and Heidi skipped into the house ahead of them. Mercy gave him an apologetic smile. “She’s curious.”

“She’s also charming, like her mother.” He motioned her in. And at that moment, Heidi let out a shriek.

Fourteen

E
noch and Mercy raced inside. The second he saw his sister hastening to Heidi, he held Mercy back.

“I see you’ve found my skeleton. I named him Wilhelm. I’m Dr. Bestman. You must be Heidi.”

“Yes, ma’am. Is he dead?”

“A long time ago. Probably . . .”

“Twelve years?”

Laughter tinted his sister’s voice. “Maybe even twenty or thirty. But I use him to help me explain to people when they get hurt how I can fix them up. You see, the Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made.”

“Mr. Wilhelm is fearful made, all right! He made me scared.”

“You may hold my hand if you’d like. He’s nothing but a pile of bones my brother and I wired together.”

“Really? Like ‘Dem Bones’?” Heidi launched into a creative rendition of the song.

“That girl’s going to give us a run for our money.” He looked down and watched as comprehension widened Mercy’s eyes.

“Hello, Mercy.” Taylor smiled at them. “Why don’t we have Heidi keep me company while you go for a stroll? I could use some help.”

Thanks, Sis.

A stroll along Gooding’s boardwalk would invite folks to stop and chat, but Enoch wanted time alone with Mercy. Going to the wooded area across from the train station would only set tongues afire. So instead, he tucked her hand in the bend of his elbow and led her through the kitchen, toward the back door.

Her steps stuttering, Mercy made sounds of awe as they went past the worktable. Spread out with scientific precision, as if it were being dissected, lay a plump fryer. The legs, thighs, and wings had already been cut off, then placed back close together as if to approximate the bird waiting for a frying pan. “How did she carve it up like that? So perfectly?”

“Probably used a scalpel.” He smiled at her amazement. Mercy then remained utterly silent the whole time he walked her out to the barn.

The weak evening sun slanted in on them, capturing her and illuminating the golden strands in her light brown hair. Enoch stopped and held both of her hands. “Mercy Orion, it’s been two weeks since we met, but in my heart I feel like it’s been a homecoming.”

“What a lovely thing to say.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be lovely. It was supposed to be loving.” Her breath hitched and color suffused her cheeks. “If I could get away with it, I’d wed you today.”

She pulled her hands away. “I find I’ve lied to you.” Uncertainty flickered in her deep brown eyes.

The meals at her place . . . the late night coffee and desserts . . . I couldn’t have misread all of that.
“In what way?”

She bit her lip and seemed to search for words. “I said I didn’t think men would appreciate being compared, so I wouldn’t do so.”

“And memories of Hamilton . . . ?”

She smiled. “You recall his name. Yes, well, Hamilton was a childhood friend. I knew him all my life. As you’ve pointed out, our acquaintance is quite recent.”

She paused, and Enoch felt the pounding of his heart accelerate.

“Yet in that time, though I cannot explain how, I’ve come to feel I know you every bit as well as I’d known him after we’d grown up together and begun to court. Due to my own grief, then out of concern for Heidi, I’ve not considered a future with a man. At the risk of sounding horribly cliché, this has all taken me by surprise.”

“Surely you sensed my interest.”

“Of course I did. I refer to the emotions that have taken root and the speed with which they’ve flourished.”

Her admission made him want to whoop with joy. Enoch fought the urge to grab her and give her a kiss. Instead, he took her right hand, lifted it, and looked over it. Their eyes met. Sparkling as hers were, he knew she’d not just mouthed words. They’d come directly from her heart. “Sweet pea, I’d be honored . . .” he said and then kissed the back of her hand, “if you’d be so kind—” he kissed it again—“as to allow me to pay you court.”

She made some response, but breathless and stammering, she made no sense whatsoever.

“Shall I take that as a yes?”

“Please!”

He again kissed the back of her hand, and as she lowered it, Enoch wouldn’t let go. “You may as well know something about me right away. About my family. Convention and propriety were constraints rarely observed anywhere at home except the front door and the dining table.”

“Since your sister is a physician, I gathered that your family is . . . avant-garde.”

“Was. It’s just the two of us now.” He stepped closer, leaving a scant two inches between them and lowered his voice. “But I’d like to change that. Soon.”

A soft little sigh was all the answer he got.

“If I were proper, I’d settle for those gentlemanly kisses from a second ago.” Slowly, he curled one hand around her nape. The slight pressure of her hand over his heart stopped him.

“You are a gentle man, Enoch Bestman. A strong and gentle man.”

He accepted her praise and continued to dip his head, intent on claiming that kiss.

But her hand exerted a little more pressure and her head turned ever so slightly away. “You’re honorable, too.”

“I’m impatient,” he half growled.

Nervous laughter twittered out of her. “So I noticed, but if this were Heidi and a young man she’d known only a short time . . .”

“I’d tear him limb from limb.” Still, he didn’t let go. Smiling, he whispered, “And afterward, I’d gather up our daughter just like this,” he cradled her to himself and swayed to and fro. “And I’d press a kiss here on her temple . . . and another one here on her cheek . . . and tell her . . .” He whispered something in Mercy’s ear.

“You wouldn’t! You couldn’t!”

Keeping her head cupped to his shoulder, Enoch calmly asserted, “I could and I would. It’s the easiest and most effective way to gain control over a bull.”

“But—”

“If that man didn’t want a ring though his nose, he shouldn’t have acted like an animal in the first place.” He held her tight. “You’re going to make me be content with holding you, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t you content?”

He waited a moment. “Yes. But I’d be delirious with a kiss.”

“Paul said he had learned whatsoever state he was in, therewith to be content.”

“Sweet pea, I only spoke half of the truth when I said Heidi was going to give us a run for our money. You’re going to be even more of a challenge. It’s going to take me a lifetime to figure you out.”

As tolerant as a saint, Tasha endured Heidi dressing her that evening in bonnets, bibs, and a cape. Finally, though, she started twitching her tail and getting an impatient tone to her meow. Enoch tapped Heidi on the shoulder. “That’s definitely a ‘Put me outside’ sound, because kitties can’t use chamber pots.”

Heidi giggled as she let out the cat, then left the kitchen with her mother to put on her nightgown.

Mr. Michaelson sat back and nursed a cup of coffee. He’d been boarding at the house the longest and seemed to have appointed himself as Mercy’s chaperon. “That cat doesn’t put up with any nonsense or fuss. Along comes Heidi, and Tasha purrs and lets that little girl do whatever her heart pleases.”

“I’m glad for Heidi.”

Michaelson looked him straight in the eye. The man behaved in an avuncular manner toward Mercy. Probably because of his advice or meddling, Orville Clark hadn’t been able to swindle Mercy, as he had most of the town’s other widows. “Mrs. Orion—” Michaelson cleared his throat—“she’s a lot like Tasha. Graceful and pretty as can be, but standoffish. Good woman’s gotta be that way.”

“Sadly enough, that’s true. A stupid man is after what gratifies himself; a godly man is after what pleases the Lord and gladdens his woman’s heart. With those priorities in order, other things fall in line just fine.”

Michaelson set down his mug. “Sure am glad we sent for a vet.”

“So am I!”

Heidi came skidding in. “Did you ’member the book?”

“I sure did. It’s the Bible storybook my sister and I shared when we were children.” They went to the parlor and Heidi snuggled beside him, looking at the book and sounding out some of the words. It wasn’t long before the story was over and she’d fallen fast asleep. He set aside the book and played with the tip of her braid.

Mercy touched his elbow. “I’ll take her upstairs, Enoch.”

“No, not yet.”

“Is she warm enough?”

I should have thought of that.
“I’ll keep her warm.” Enoch lifted Heidi onto his lap and made sure her toes stayed beneath the hem of her heavy yellow-and-white-striped flannel nightgown. He wanted to cuddle her, enjoy carrying her upstairs with Mercy by his side, and tuck Heidi in together. He’d never put a child to bed. Concerned by his lack of essential fathering skills, he was determined to seize every opportunity to learn how to be the best daddy possible.

Mercy settled into the chair next to the sofa.

“Taylor was far happier playing with a microscope than a jump rope,” he told her. “What are Heidi’s favorite things to do?”

“Wiggle and make noise.” Mercy smiled. “Heidi’s always been lively.” She regaled him with a few cute stories, then rose. “She gets heavy. I’ll carry her upstairs.”

“No you won’t.” Skimming an arm behind Heidi’s knees and tightening the one about her ribs, he rose. Mercy lit a lamp and preceded him upstairs.

Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, Heidi sleepily demanded, “Night-night kiss.”

He couldn’t answer her—at least not with words. Enoch drew her impossibly close and kissed her cheek. After slipping her onto the mattress, he stepped back and watched intently as Mercy whispered a prayer and kissed her, as well.

Enoch took Mercy by the hand, led her out of the chamber, and shut the door. “Did you see what happened tonight?”

“What?”

“She wanted me to tuck her in. Heidi wanted me to kiss her night-night. Me, Mercy.” He smacked himself on the chest.

“It was darling.”

“It was more than darling. She trusts me and accepts me. Until I met you, I scoffed at the notion of love at first sight. Even after recognizing I’d been wrong about that, I had to face three other hurdles. The first was whether it was God’s will for me—and He led me straight to the Song of Solomon. Next I needed to know if you could have feelings for me, and even then, Heidi’s acceptance was vital to family harmony.” He traced the curve of her cheek. “I love you, Mercy. With all my heart, I love you.”

Tears glossed her eyes and shaky fingers pressed against her lips.

I haven’t misread this.
“Mercy, marry me. Be my wife, my lover, and the mother of a handful of children whom I’ll love as much as I do Heidi.”

“I . . . love you, too, Enoch. This is all so dizzying.”

He moved closer, trapping her against her wall and curling his hands about her slender waist. “Does this help?”

She shook her head. “Leaves me more breathless.”

“Hmm.” He dipped his head and kissed her. “All better now?”

She let out a small laugh. “Oh, Enoch, what am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to accept my proposal.”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

“Excellent.” He started pulling her toward the stairs, then stopped. “Parson Bradle’s already gone to bed. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”