Brides of Texas Read Online Free PDF

again
.
    Steeling herself, she stepped into the barn. Bile rose, and she swallowed it. Just off to her right was where
that man
died at Otto’s hand. Another few steps and she was near the place where he’d held the knife to her sweet little brother’s neck, then struck him in the head. Her legs shook so badly, she could hardly walk deeper into the barn. Over there, in that straw, he’d…
    She stumbled and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. Evalina’s lowing jarred her back to what she needed to do.
I can go on. I can. I’ll do my chores and make it through the morning. Then I’ll make it through the afternoon
.
    Mercy rested her cheek against Evalina’s warm side and listened to the
shhh-shhh-shhh
as the bucket filled with the rhythmic motions of her hands. The smell of milk, hay, and cow were so common. After promising herself that staying busy with tasks would keep her from remembering, Mercy discovered she’d been lying to herself.
    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.

Chapter 4
    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