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

I’m fond of them, and there’s a sort of unseen bond between us. If Mercy doesn’t find a husband soon, she’ll be forced to give ’em up. It would tear those little guys to shreds.”
    “Ah. That part is understandable, your wantin’ to help them out. Poor little fellers. I will give you credit for havin’ a noble cause.”
    “So, you don’t think it’s entirely ludicrous?”
    The man took a few more swipes with his file, then laid his project aside. “I didn’t say that.” He set to straightening his tools, clearly taking his sweet time to expound upon his answer. At last, he raised his head and looked Sam head-on. “Marryin’ her would stir up a real storm. Don’t be countin’ on anybody’s blessin’.”
    “Not even yours?” Sam ventured. “I wouldn’t want to put up a wall between us.”
    “Pfff.” His uncle tossed his head to the side and went back to sorting his tools. “Don’t go worryin’ your mind over that. I respect you enough to let you make your own decisions. I always have thought this feud a waste of time and energy. But it does have its roots, and roots go deep.”
    “I know.” Sam sighed. “Well, I’m not expectin’ anything to come o’ my offer, anyway. I hear she’s already leanin’ toward Harold Beauchamp.”
    Uncle Clarence made a snuffling sound. “I would hardly put them two together. Ain’t he ’bout old enough to be her father?”
    “Darned close. Harold’s a nice fellow, though.”
    “He may be, but that don’t make him a good fit for Mercy. ’Course, he’s also a fine Christian, and I ’magine that’s a high priority for her.”
    “How would you know about her priorities?”
    “Everybody knows Mercy Evans is a God-fearin’ woman. She’s not gonna marry someone who won’t abide puttin’ God first, going to church, sayin’ his prayers, readin’ his Bible, and teachin’ those boys the ways of the Lord.”
    Sam studied his scuffed shoes and scratched his temple as a blanket of silence settled between them.
    “It wouldn’t hurt you to brush up on your faith, son,” Clarence finally said. “It’s been a while since you attended services.”
    He was right, of course. Mercy would be looking for somebody who shared her values and religious beliefs. Well, heck, it wouldn’t kill him to go to church.
    But something told him she’d expect a little bit more out of him than simple church attendance.
    Wasn’t he putting the cart ahead of the ox? Who knew but that she’d kick him straight off her porch before he even spoke the first word of his proposal?

7
    A fter punctuating their bedtime prayer with a hasty “amen,” Mercy leaned forward and planted a kiss on each boy’s forehead, then tucked the light cotton blanket up snugly to their chins. Both offered up sleepy half smiles, having finally exhausted their seemingly endless questions about the evening with Harold Beauchamp: “Do you like him?” “How come he don’t have much hair?” “Did he get tired of playin’ with us?” “Why’d it sound like he swallowed a whistle?” “How come he tripped over that shoe? Can’t he see very good?” And the one that beat all: “Why’d you pick him t’ marry?”
    She’d tried to answer each question as best she could, but the last one had purely stumped her. Why indeed? Because he best fit her criteria? It was a sad day when not one man who’d crossed over her threshold in the past ten days with eager eyes for marriage could get her heart to thumping. Was it possible she’d taken matters too much into her own hands, even though she’d bathed her days in prayer? Had she misread the Father’s cues? Oh, why did it have to be so hard to determine His will? Could it be He didn’t wish for her to marry Harold Beauchamp—or any man, for that matter—because the boys would be better off with someone else? The very notion produced tears she had no desire to suppress.
    Weary, she extinguished the light, tiptoed out of the darkened room, and