Brides of Texas by Cathy Marie Hake Read Free Book Online Page A

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…”
    When her voice trailed off, Rob accepted the glass of sweet tea she extended toward him and sat in a wicker chair. He’d intentionally waited until he knew what she wanted. Ever since Mercy swooned in the mercantile almost a month before, folks tried to get him to speak about her. Some meant well; others were gossipmongers. Either way, he refused to discuss any private matters. Since Miss Rodriguez wished to broach a different topic, he’d listen. “You were wondering?”
    “Could I do the movements? Would they help me?”
    He made no pretense at ignorance. The lass had a noticeable limp. “You were quite young when you broke your limb, weren’t you?”
    She nodded. “Doc Neely wanted to amputate, but Papa wouldn’t consent to it.”
    “When you showed interest upon hearing about the therapy, I made the assumption that you were hopeful something might benefit you, as well.” Rob looked her in the eyes. He’d learned early in his career that patients inevitably coped better with bad news when given the dignity of a direct response. “I took the liberty of examining the medical journal Dr. Neely kept. The problem is that your bones knit together in puir alignment. Motion exercises address muscular problems, not skeletal. I’m sorry I canna make a difference for you.”
    “I suppose,” she said in a tight voice, “I should be grateful for what I have.”
    “I’m sure the Almighty never tires of hearing our gratitude.” He looked out at the garden she tended every afternoon. “What happened? Just yesterday your garden was brimming with blossoms, and most of them are gone now.”
    “Ada Meister’s wedding is tomorrow.” She clenched her hands in her lap. “You know what they say—the woman who marries in June is a bride all her life.”
    Rob hitched a shoulder. “To my way of thinking, ’Tisn’t when you marry—†tis whom. Even so, it was kind of you to share your flowers with Miss Meister.”
    “Thank you.”
    They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then Rob excused himself. As he started down the steps, Otto Kunstler passed him. They exchanged nothing more than a polite nod, but Rob overheard him.
    “Hello, Miss Rodriguez. Is your sister home?”
    The rest of the afternoon passed with an assortment of cases that demanded the doctor’s attention. His last patients were from two towns over. Suspecting that they, like Carmen Rodriguez, were hoping for a miracle, Rob took additional time with the Heims. In the end, all he could do was tell them the sad truth.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Heim, but you’ll not be having any children.”
    Mrs. Heim sobbed quietly, and her husband held her close.