Mountains of Grace by Kelly Irvin

Author:Kelly Irvin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2019-08-05T16:00:00+00:00

23

Eureka, Montana

Some events couldn’t be explained away. Sometimes words made them worse. Mercy clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from flapping. She veered away from Spencer, putting as much cement between him and her as she could as quickly as she could. His raised eyebrows and sardonic grin told her he knew exactly what was going on. He moved past her and rolled up the driveway to where an unsuspecting Caleb sat.

“Hey. You’re Caleb, right?” He tapped on Caleb’s straw hat.

Caleb’s head snapped up. He grabbed his hat and glared. “What are you doing here?” His bewildered gaze enveloped Mercy and then whipped back to Spencer. “Oh. I mean, I came . . . never mind.” He stood and slapped the hat back on his head of straight, sandy-brown hair. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“You’re not interrupting.” Mercy’s voice sounded high and tight in her ears. “Spencer just happened on me sitting out here and we took a walk around the block. That’s all.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” With an awkward nod he trudged past Spencer to his buggy. His hands smoothed his horse’s sleek neck. The glance he aimed at Mercy held apology. “The garage door was open. The chair sitting there empty. I figured you were awake. I knocked. Your daed came to the door. He’s in there getting us some lemonade. He said tea would just keep us awake. I guess he’s having trouble sleeping too.”

“Stay. Have your lemonade.”

“Yeah, you should stay.” Spencer edged toward the sidewalk. “I was just leaving.”

“I guess I’m more tired than I thought. I should turn in.” His gaze studied Spencer. “It is late and dawn comes early. Church is at Bishop Noah’s.”

With that pithy observation he hoisted himself into the buggy and drove away.

The clip-clop of the horse’s hooves punctuated the silence for several seconds.

“I should go too.” Spencer moved in her direction. “He’s right. It’s late.”

Despite herself, Mercy stumbled back a step.

Spencer halted. His expression dark, he scratched at his five o’clock shadow. “I don’t mean to step on any toes or cross any lines. If I did, I’m sorry. I just wanted . . . to talk to you.”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” The conversation with Spencer had been different than any she’d ever had with a Plain man or any man. Food for thought. “Everything is changing. The Plain aren’t much for change, but sometimes it’s thrust upon us.”

The screen door opened. Carrying two glasses of lemonade, Daed elbowed the door so he could navigate through. “I can’t get over the size of that refrigerator . . .”

He stopped so abruptly lemonade sloshed over the sides of the glasses and splashed his dusty work boots. “Where’s Caleb and who are you?” He wore his wrinkled, faded work shirt and pants, but his suspenders hung down the back of his pants. Without his glasses and his straw hat, his face was stripped naked except for his unruly iron-gray beard. He looked like old, worn leather.

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