A Mail Order Bride for the Undertaker (Love by Mail #1)(10)

“Good night.”

She stood shell-shocked for an instant, then hastily bade him a good night. Blushing, Mercy exited Cole’s room and half-ran to her own. Her heart pounded hard. As soon as she closed her bedroom door she leaned against it.

Was it wrong for her to feel such excitement when she looked at his handsome face and strong frame? For certain thoughts to wander into her mind? Her ears burnt; they must have been as red as her cheeks.

Mercy took a deep breath. He was her husband now, so why did she feel so awkward whenever they got too close? Still, she remembered his kindness and the respect had for her. Mercy smiled to herself. She had been truly blessed.





Chapter 5


The wind howled like the hungry cry of a coyote across the cold desert. Fortunately the weather hadn’t affected their travel arrangements and they made it in time for the funeral, not that they could have gone ahead without the casket. Mercy shuffled closer to her husband. After the pastor’s passage, two men began burying the casket. It was the first painted casket Mercy had seen, ever since Father William’s death a decade ago.

The mother continued to cry. Other women gathered around her, taking her arm, and leading her back home. Her husband, a lanky, bearded man, approached Cole and Mercy.

“Thank you so much for coming,” he said. “And thank you for the casket. It was more than what we could afford.”

Cole nodded. The man gave him a one-armed hug and turned to Mercy. “This must be the Missus Beckett I heard about.”

Mercy smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Mercy.” She didn’t try to hide the blush on her face. She had to get used to being a Beckett. “We’re sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” The man took off his hat and tilted it at Mercy. “Well, I better get going.”

They bade him goodbye again. Mercy crossed herself. “I can’t imagine the grief they feel.”

Cole shook his head. “She was just a child, taken so young. Old age makes sense, but something like this - bitten by a wild animal. It was an accident, but why did it have to happen to her? To her family?”

Mercy placed a hand on his arm. “Everything that happens in this world happens at the time God chooses.” She placed a hand on her heart. “A reminder from Ecclesiastes that God does things for a reason.”

“A reason?” Cole echoed, and turned to her, his face pulled into a mask of disbelief. “What could His reason possibly be for taking a young life? For taking an entire family?”

Mercy clutched the brooch that held her scarf together. “There is a reason we must all experience grief and loss.”

“Then that’s a horrible and unfair reason.”

Mercy gasped. “Cole…”

“Mr. Beckett!” An older couple in dark clothes approached Cole. He introduced Mercy to them, and they started talking about the family’s loss. But Cole wouldn’t meet Mercy’s eyes, not even after the couple went back to the inn.

*

Cole flopped down on the bedroll he had carried and covered his face with his hat.

Mercy wrung her hands at Cole’s silence. She had obviously displeased her husband. They were married for only a few weeks and already, she had touched on a subject too sore for Cole to talk about.

“Are you all right?” she asked. She reached out a hand towards, him, but retracted it.

“I’m fine,” Cole said, voice slightly muffled under his hat. “I’m just tired is all.” He turned on his side and placed the hat on the side of his face. As if he didn’t want to look at Mercy.

“I’ll pray for both of us, then.”

Cole’s shoulder stiffened, but he made no move to join Mercy at the foot of the sole bed in the room. Mercy went down on her knees and started a prayer for the grieving family, the orphanage, and Cole.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding,” she began, falling back on the Proverbs she had memorized as a child. “In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” She sneaked a glance at Cole, but he remained unresponsive. “Give me the patience and the courage to face the days,” she said. “I know it’s difficult, but I want to stay by his side. He’s my husband, and he’s a good man. Please grant us the courage to continue serving Your name.”

That night, the room felt colder than the wind outside.

*

The afternoon sun cast shadows on the plains as Mercy trudged along the familiar dusty roads of Angel Creek ready to go home with her shopping. The people’s disposition upon their return was nearly as cold as the oncoming winter. Mercy tried not to mind it, lost in her thoughts of her recent misunderstanding with Cole until Claire Shepard stopped short in front of her.

“Claire, are you all right?”

The woman looked the worse for wear; her hair, usually tied in a neat bun, was now loose around her face.

Claire gave her a small smile, and touched Mercy’s hand. “It’s Clarke Haynes’ little boy. He caught pneumonia a few days ago, and, well, Nathan’s at their house to anoint him, but he forgot some stuff.” She held up the small basket she carried.

Mercy gasped. If Pastor Shepard was already anointing him, then it meant that the child was already lost to them.

“Here, let me help you.”