That Certain Spark (23 page)
Taylor wanted to kick him. His wife was distraught, and he was trying to be logical. Of all the male things to do, Enoch couldn’t have made a more boneheaded choice.
Mercy dissolved into a fit of tears. Clutching Taylor’s hand, she begged, “Make him go away.”
He glowered at her. “Don’t waste your breath.”
A keening wail split the air.
She knows. She’s figured it out.
Taylor tightened her hold of Mercy’s hand.
“It’s gone. All of it. It wasn’t just a cyst, was it?” Mercy’s tear-filled eyes pleaded for reassurance.
Enoch said, “I’ll answer that.”
E
verything within Taylor revolted. Enoch hadn’t wanted Mercy to know, and he’d gone so far as to give instructions to avoid answering—but this? He was prepared to tell an outright lie and have her be his accomplice? “That’s not right. I’m the physician here.”
And Mercy is going to get the full truth.
Ripping the covers off the bed, Enoch half roared, “For Pete’s sake!” After shoving the covers into Taylor’s arms, he lifted Mercy and sat on the bed with his back to the headboard and her cradled on his lap. “You women are trying my patience. I’ve waited for this moment for four days.”
“Mercy, you asked me, and you deserve an answer.” Taylor reached over and held both of her sister-in-law’s hands—the small, slender right one and the left one that was painfully swollen from a common temporary circulatory reaction to the surgery. “It wasn’t a cyst.”
“It was a tumor, sweet pea. But Taylor got it all.”
“Cancer.” Horror and shock hushed Mercy’s voice.
Enoch’s head dipped. He brushed a soft kiss across her mouth. “Yes, but Taylor got it all. I’ve been waiting for four long days to give you the good news.”
Taylor slowly, subtly released Mercy’s hands and backed away from the bed. She couldn’t believe it. Clear up to the very last second, Enoch had fought with her. For the first time in their lives, they’d been diametrically opposed and unable to find a compromise. He’d been impossible, selfish, overbearing, and . . . now, absolutely the most loving husband she’d ever seen.
“We didn’t want you to hurt too much, so Taylor’s been giving you laudanum.” He nuzzled Mercy’s temple. Such a display of affection wouldn’t normally be acceptable with anyone else present—but this situation didn’t conform to ordinary rules. “The only reason I could wait for all this time was because I knew it would let you sleep through some pain. But here you are in my arms, and I’m going to hold you for years and years to come.”
Mercy’s head dipped. Enoch cupped it to his shoulder and murmured, “Tired?”
“Heidi?”
Did Enoch notice how Mercy had avoided answering him by changing the subject? Taylor’s eyes narrowed. The next minutes and days would form the ways this couple would deal with not only the challenge, but with one another during the recovery and beyond.
“Dan and Millie had her until today. Hope took her so she and Emmy-Lou could play together for a few days. And I’d guess you want to know about the boardinghouse now, too. Right?”
“Yes.” Mercy’s tone sounded flat.
“Linette’s handling it all. After having helped you for so long, she knows your routines. Widow O’Toole’s pitching in and keeping things going just fine.”
Her brother was a complete dolt. Instead of reassuring Mercy, all he was going to do was make her feel unnecessary! Taylor immediately tacked on, “But no one can begin to truly fill in for you. All of those things are inconsequential compared to you and your health, anyway. Most women who hear the news you were just given have some questions. Is there anything you’d like me to explain?”
Mercy barely shook her head.
“Over the next days or weeks, things are bound to occur to you. You might feel a bit numb right now after having been given such a shock.”
“Tell her how small it was,” Enoch demanded.
“Here.” In preparation for this moment, Taylor had formed a likeness of the tumor out of soap. “This is the size and shape. Not only did you detect it early, but when we did surgery, I was able to remove surrounding tissue that appeared healthy.”
“Do you remember Taylor telling you how tumors put down roots or send out seeds, so she always makes sure she trims out extra to be sure?”
“But it’s all gone.”
“Yes, sweet pea, it’s all gone.”
Sensing they meant entirely different things, Taylor decided to help. “Mercy, we did the mastectomy just as we discussed so we’d rid you of the cancer. Your breast is gone now, but the most important thing is—”
“That Heidi and I will have you for a lifetime.”
Understandably shaken and weepy, Mercy asked, “How long of a life?”
“Only the Lord knows that, but I fully expect it to be comparable to any other healthy young woman’s.” The strain had gone on long enough. Taylor motioned to Enoch to lie Mercy back down.
He ignored her. “I’m your husband, Mercy Bestman, and you’re not getting away from me. You married me, and you’re stuck with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“
I
am!” Taylor exclaimed with a laugh. “I finally got rid of Enoch, and you’re not giving him back.”
Finally, Mercy slumped into Enoch’s chest. A hiccuppy sob shook her. “I didn’t want to give him back.”
“Then see to it you don’t. Oh, and by the way, over the next seven or eight years, I fully expect a couple of nephews and another niece or two. If there was justice in this world, the children would be hellions to pay their father back for all the times he’s bedeviled me; but I love you too much to wish such a fate on you, Mercy. Instead, I’ll pray for you to have children just like me.”
“It’s a good thing you married me, sweet pea. If you hadn’t, I’d be stuck here with a madwoman.”
Karl helped Taylor into the buggy and then scraped the mud off his boots as he climbed in himself. “So Enoch took Mercy home?”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase his concerns. “After two weeks. Is she better?”
“Recovery from surgery is never easy. You’re a particularly hearty specimen, and you sprang back faster than any patient I’ve ever had. Even so, for the first week or two, you fatigued rapidly. As a small woman, Mercy’s vital reserves are lower. I have every confidence she’ll spring back as long as we don’t cause her anxiety over her temporary weakness.”
He pulled the buggy to the side of the road. Curling his fingers around the doctor’s gloved hand, he searched for the right words. Until now, he’d not taken the liberty to make such familiar contact, but it came so naturally. “To do surgery on someone you love—it must be very hard.”
She managed a tense shrug.
“We have spoken about whether it is good that you became a doctor, and I believe it was the right thing. If only for this, then it was worth it so you could help your sister.”
“That would be very selfish.”
He let out a disbelieving snort. She seemed to be regaining her mettle, and that was good, but he still wanted to praise her. “You’re a scientist, but in many ways, you’re also an artist. This case, I’m thinking, must have been your masterpiece.”
Slowly, she pulled her hand from his. “Mercy is God’s masterpiece. I’m thankful for all He’s done for her.”
“Why can’t you accept any credit? You did the operation.”
She let out a long, shaky breath. “Mostly with my eyes closed.”
“If your eyes were closed, it was because you were praying. I’ve been praying, too. The difference God makes in the midst of difficulty . . . In my grief I railed against Him, and now I see how Enoch and Mercy turn toward Him and find strength. My aim is to walk so closely with the Lord that I lean on Him in every circumstance of life.”
“It’s a noble goal, and our heavenly Father must be pleased you’re pursuing Him with all your heart.”
“It is the way a marriage should be, as well.”
“I agree.” Hastily she tacked on, “But it’s far easier for me to set lofty goals for marriage and child-rearing since I’ll never marry and have children.”
“Does it ever occur to you that just as I didn’t turn to God in my grief, it could be that you’re not listening to His will about your future? He could be demonstrating through Enoch and Mercy that you must have your priorities in order.”
“Are you beating around the bush about the list? It’s only up to fifty-six. But I won’t stop practicing medicine. If Gooding doesn’t honor the contract, I’ll relocate to a town where my skills are welcome.”
Taylor entered her surgery, sterilized several instruments, and made a list of supplies and medications to reorder. She noted that some of her medical texts were missing and made a mental note to ask Enoch for them. She quickly finished her tasks, noting the quiet that surrounded her. Though she was grateful both little Bethany and Mercy were back home, she felt a bit lonely at times.
With a satisfied glance at the pristine room, Taylor grabbed her bag. She needed to make a couple of house calls, but first she’d like to stop off at Checkered Past and see the new mama and her newborn baby again.
Realizing she needed to remain close to home and be available to Sydney, Velma had started taking Taylor with her on prenatal visits and summoning Taylor whenever she was called for a birth. Having attended a few births together, Velma finally admitted she no longer worried about Taylor’s competence and would be glad to share the maternity cases.
God couldn’t have poured a sweeter balm of contentment on Taylor to make up for the contention around her than to allow her to resume maternity care. Bulky winter clothing had kept the number of maternity cases a secret. Gustav Cutter had greatly underestimated Gooding’s population growth when he had said he expected only two births. Word of mouth had quickly spread that Taylor wasn’t merely competent; she was comforting, as well. Now that Sydney was past her due date, Velma refused to budge any farther than the ranch’s clothesline. Fathers-to-be knew—whether they liked it or not—they had to come fetch the woman doctor to assist their wife. Invariably those proud papas showed their thanks by placing their family’s names on Dr. Bestman’s patient list.
If Karl accompanies me on this postpartum visit, he’ll stand there and switch from one foot to the other and hem and haw about how we need to get going again.
It wasn’t that she planned more than a very brief visit, but she didn’t want him dictating what she did with her time. He’d gotten pushy about her schedule, and she didn’t want to admit that he had every reason to. The man spent more of his time than he could spare escorting her around.
Ever since he’d told her he thought she was beautiful—thereby essentially declaring himself, he’d become more assertive about her schedule.
Our schedule,
she amended honestly. He was a busy man, and he had a right to get antsy about being away from his business—but that was proof of her argument for why she’d never marry. Her profession required her attention whenever, wherever, however, and however long was required—regardless of anything and anyone else. No husband would stand for being treated in such a manner. Just about the time she’d been ready to tell him he’d gotten too bossy, he’d changed tactics. Instead of always accompanying her, he now asked Piet to take her on calls, too. Piet was far more placid. The difference in temperament only served to underscore the sparks that flew whenever she and Karl were together.
After the incident with the men breaking in to see Bethany, she didn’t know if she wanted the Van der Vorts to carry the weapons or not. She and Piet had gone round and round about that. She and Karl had had a fight or two over it, too. What was she going to do? She looked around. Almost every man in Texas had a weapon on him. It really wasn’t her place to dictate what grown men could or couldn’t do. Karl and Piet did exactly what they pleased. They each wore a pair of guns whenever they weren’t standing by the forge.
She donned her pelisse, took her bag, and carefully locked the door behind herself before going across the way to the smithy. “Hello, Piet. I’d like to go make some house calls.”
He looked over his shoulder at her and set down his hammer. “Ja. I will hitch up the buggy.”
Taylor went outside to escape the heat of the smithy while she waited, and Karl rode up in a cloud of dust, coming to a halt a few yards past her.
“Whoa!” he called, his gelding skidding to a halt. “Taylor! I was coming for you. You’re needed at once!”