Heart of Mercy (Tennessee Dreams) by Sharlene MacLaren Read Free Book Online Page B

her. The unknown woman stepped forward and extended a hand. “Good mornin’, sir. I’m Wilma Whintley. My Wilfred, rest his soul, surely did appreciate your blacksmithin’ services.”
    Oh yes, the infamous Widow Whintley. Poor woman. He’d often heard others refer to her as Wilma “Windbag” Whintley, due to her extreme love for gossip. He tipped his hat at her. “Nice meetin’ you, ma’am. You let me know if you have need of any metalwork.”
    “Yes, indeed I shall. Well, I’ll be goin’ now. I’m to meet Mrs. Rutherford and a few other members of the Paris Women’s Club to discuss our annual city picnic in late August. Perhaps I’ll see you there, Mr. Connors.” To Mercy, she added, “And you be sure to come as well, Miss Evans, and bring those boys—that is, if you still…you know….”
    “Yes, yes, I will. Thank you. Good-bye, ma’am.”
    Sam watched the woman skedaddle across the street, her bustle bouncing behind her like a jumpy dog.
    Mercy let out a noticeable sigh.
    He chuckled. “Good friend of yours?”
    She glanced across the street. “A neighbor.” Then, blowing out a loud breath, she surveyed him hastily. “So, you’ve returned to work, have you? I take it you’re feeling much better, then.”
    “A whale of a lot better than I did a week ago. Doc says I shouldn’t have gone back to work yet, but I’m no good just sittin’ around. Thanks for askin’ after me, nurse. I wasn’t aware you cared.”
    She slapped at a fly, then shielded her eyes from the sun. “I was asking as a professional courtesy, of course.”
    He grinned. “Of course. By the way, not sure I ever did thank you for takin’ me in that night.”
    “I assure you, I didn’t take you in—willingly, that is—and you certainly weren’t around long enough for me to do you much good. Your mother saw to that.”
    Did he detect a bit of antagonism? “My mother can be somewhat of a nuisance, I’ll give you that. I don’t know what she said to you when she and my cousins came bargin’ into your house, but whatever it was, let me just apologize for her rudeness.”
    “You certainly don’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” She drew the boys close and looked at him. “We want to thank you again for running into that blazing house. I don’t know how…or why….”
    He flicked a wrist. “Never mind that. I’m just glad I acted when I did. There wasn’t another soul around at the time, so I didn’t have a second to waste.” He set his eyes on the boys now. “By the way, which one of you wrote that fine thank-you letter I got in the mail the other day?”
    Joseph raised his hand as if he were sitting in a schoolroom. A lively grin popped out on his handsome young face, and Sam wondered if it was the first time since the fire. “Mercy helped me. She spelled the words, and I writed all the letters.”
    “And so did I!” John Roy piped up. “Help, I mean.”
    “You didn’t write it,” Joseph said.
    “No, but I tol’ you some of the words t’ write!”
    Mercy applied a bit of pressure to their shoulders. “Boys.”
    Sam looked at her, searching his memory for a prettier face but coming up empty. Giving himself a mental rebuke, he turned his attention back to the boys, bending at the waist and touching both their noses. “It was mighty fine o’ both of you to send the letter. I folded it up and put it back in the envelope for safekeepin’.”
    Mercy cleared her throat. “Well, we must be on our way, as we have a number of errands to run. Nice to see you, Mr. Connors.” She made an attempt to turn the boys in the opposite direction.
    “Likewise. Oh, one more thing, Miss Evans.” He raised his index finger. “Just curious how that, uh, advertisement scheme of yours is workin’ out.”
    She blinked and promptly blushed. “I wasn’t aware you’d heard about it.”
    He couldn’t help but throw back his head and laugh. “Heard about it?” He removed his Stetson, ran a hand through his