Solemn Oath Page 28

  What a stupid way to cook food.

  Before he could straighten and close the lid to the grill, a shrill, pulsing scream reached him from inside the kitchen. It took him about five seconds to realize it was the smoke alarm. By that time another scream joined it from the hallway. He leaped forward, slammed down the lid to the grill and raced through the sliding patio door into the dining room.

  By the time he reached the kitchen, another alarm joined the first two for an effect straight out of a sci-fi movie. He grabbed a dish towel to wave it at the alarm. It didn’t help. He opened the alarm casing, jerked out the battery and ran toward the hallway to do the same. That was when he caught sight of the living room clock. Great, he only had ten minutes to turn off the alarms, clear out the smoke and stuff away some of the clutter around the house that he hadn’t taken the time to pick up and hide earlier.

  He was pulling a stepladder through the hallway when he saw movement from the corner of his vision. He turned to find Mercy standing in the living room. She wore a simple red T-shirt and black jeans and sandals, and laughter mingled comically with a grimace on her face. She was shaking her head and covering her ears with her hands. He waved at her, pulled the battery and carried the ladder into the bedroom to do the same.

  Quiet came at last. Boy, these were sensitive alarms!

  He went back to apologize to Mercy and found her in the backyard, sliding blackened discs from the grill onto a paper plate.

  “I rang the doorbell,” she explained, “but I heard the smoke alarm, so I thought you might need some help.” She replaced the lid to the grill and picked up a hamburger. “Mmm, looks delicious,” she murmured. “I can tell you’ve done this lots of times before.”

  She led the way back into the kitchen, where she set the plate of furnace-heated burgers. She pointed toward a large paper bag she had set on the counter. “Mom sent us a grilled green tomato salad to go along with…dinner.”

  “You can put the stuff in the refrigerator.” Lukas glanced helplessly at his battered, hand-me-down dining room table, where he had plowed through enough stacks of unopened mail to clear two spaces. He had laid out two place mats decorated with scenes from the Jurassic era, and two dinosaur-decorated glasses filled with Mercy’s favorite pink lemonade. The scenery on the glasses disappeared when filled with cold liquid, then reappeared as the liquid was consumed. Somehow, it didn’t look as appealing as it had an hour ago. It looked childish. But it was all he had.

  Mercy placed her bag in the refrigerator, coughed and stepped over to close the kitchen window, where smoke from the grill continued to drift inside.

  This evening was nothing like Lukas had hoped it would be when he’d first issued the invitation. The staff at the hospital teased him because he always ordered extra when he ate out, then took the leftovers home and lived on them for a couple of days. They called him the Doggie Bag King. So far, Mercy didn’t seem too impressed with his domestic abilities, either.

  But he wasn’t trying to impress her.

  He thought again about his discussion with Theo Thursday night, and his long, heartfelt arguments with God later.

  Lukas watched as Mercy stood gazing around the kitchen and dining area. On a borrowed hutch in the corner sat a nice little array of old Star Trek paraphernalia collected with his nephews, who knew he was a Trekkie. Alongside them sat a box with a GPS navigational system for hiking, which he hadn’t yet opened.

  His stereo cabinet held a clock with stainless-steel balls that rolled down a series of tracks every hour. The walls were still bare.

  “Let me guess,” Mercy said. “You didn’t hire an interior decorator.”

  “Why would I want to? Most of these things are gifts from my family.”

  Mercy strolled over to a curio stand by the patio door. “Do you realize I’ve never even been past your living room before today? I’m discovering a whole new side of you, Lukas.”

  He thought of her expertly decorated home, her matched towels, her perfectly cooked and served dinners on fine china—which he happened to know were antiques given to her by her grandmother. She wasn’t a snob, but compared to her home, his was a flea-market wonderland. He thought of the Rolls-Royce replica alarm clock in his bedroom and the bulletin board with pictures of his family stickpinned to it.

  He cleared his throat. “Ready to eat?”

  “I can’t wait.” She continued gazing around the roomy, though cluttered, kitchen and reached up with typical feminine curiosity to open a cupboard door.

  Lukas suddenly remembered what gadget he had hidden behind that particular door. “No, wait! Don’t—”

  A stuffed, coiled rattlesnake seemed to pounce from the cabinet with fangs bared. Mercy screamed and stumbled backward, and Lukas rushed forward to grab her before she tripped over the step stool behind her. Every spot he touched seemed to tingle with awareness. He didn’t want to let her go. Not in any sense of the word. Already she felt like a part of him, and when she gently stepped from his embrace, he felt as if a piece of his heart went with her.

  She stared at the snake, then looked at Lukas. “Don’t even bother to explain.”

  “It’s authentic.” He swallowed and willed his breathing to return to normal. “My oldest brother’s kids got it for me for my birthday when they took a trip out West this summer. I usually keep it on top of one of my stereo speakers.”

  She chuckled. “Why don’t we just eat?”

  To Mercy’s voiced surprised, the hamburgers were good—once they got past the burned and crunchy exteriors. They used part of the salad on the burgers, since Lukas had forgotten to get lettuce and tomatoes. Lukas didn’t realize they didn’t have napkins until they finished their meal.

  He reached over and lifted a stack of mail and mistakenly uncovered a set of realistic-looking foam rubber replicas of a heart, a brain and a kidney, which he had received from drug reps at various medical conferences over the years. Beneath the heart replica lay a roll of paper towels. He tore off a section and handed it to her.

  Mercy wiped barbecue sauce from her lips, then formed a tent with her hands and placed her chin on it, still staring at the various body parts. “Did anybody ever tell you that you’ve still got a lot of little boy in you?” She smiled at the cluttered corners of his dining room and the stacks of mail he hadn’t opened in two weeks. “Do you ever get behind on bills?”

  “I lose them sometimes, or I accidentally throw them away. So far the electric company has been forgiving. I’ve got to stop some of the junk mail I get.”

  “I have never seen a bachelor more in need of a companion.”

  The living room bird clock suddenly sang out its cardinal call as Lukas considered Mercy’s obviously leading comment. He said nothing. He wanted to tell her how wonderful a companion she would be.

  Her smile slowly vanished, and she looked at him.

  Lukas swallowed hard and changed the subject. “I think you’re doing the right thing by agreeing to let Tedi see Theodore again…and by going with her.” He hadn’t realized it would be so hard to say those words. He didn’t want to think of Theodore and Mercy rebuilding a relationship, but he had no right to be jealous. Not now.

  Mercy stood up to clear the table. “I didn’t come over here to talk about Theodore. I came to sample your cooking and enjoy your company and forget about this past week. It’s been a killer.”

  He hesitated, took a final swallow of his drink and stood to help her. “I really think he’s sincere about his new faith.”

  She found the dishwasher and jerked the door open with more force than necessary. “You don’t know him as well as I do.”

  “It’s been over five years since your divorce. How well do you really still know him?”

  “And you’ve been in town less than six months and talked to him probably five or six times.” She shoved the white Corelle plates into the dishwasher rack and straightened to look at Lukas. “You really think you can tell me anything about him I don’t know?”

&nbs
p; “I think I can look at the situation from a less biased standpoint. You’re so filled with anger you can’t see anything but bad memories. You must have some good ones somewhere.”

  She shook her head. “Why would I want to? He rejected me, remember? Do you know how traumatizing that is? And don’t give me all that garbage about how it takes two to ruin a marriage.” She shook her head and raised her arms in a silencing gesture. “I’ve heard it.”

  “I wasn’t going to—”

  “Enough about divorce, okay?”

  Lukas sighed and walked back over to his chair. He sank down into it, watching Mercy. “Until you learn to forgive him you won’t be able to get on with—”

  “I’ve heard that, too.”

  Lukas tried to curb his growing irritation. “Well, you’re not listening, so you need to hear it again,” he snapped. He saw the surprise in her eyes and was surprised at himself. He had never spoken sharply to her. “Mercy, your bitterness is still showing. It’s crippling you emotionally, and it’s going to damage every relationship you have if you don’t deal with it.”

  She leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Even ours?”

  He heard the plaintive sound of her voice, the same tone he’d heard over the telephone this afternoon. It touched him deeply. And painfully. He knew there would be no backing off just one step. There was no going back to the friendship they had shared over the summer. Something had changed between them, and he knew he couldn’t control the power of it. So far, the power had controlled him.

  “Lukas?”

  He looked up at her. She was so beautiful…so vulnerable. So open. And he needed to be open with her. She deserved that from him. He cleared his throat. “You can’t have healthy future relationships until you can allow forgiveness to heal your past—all of your past. I’m not just talking about your forgiving Theo.”

  She watched him for a moment, her eyes holding his steadily.

  He couldn’t look away. “I’m also talking about your forgiving your father for his alcoholism. And while you’re at it, you might try forgiving yourself.” He swallowed, shifted in his seat and breathed deeply. He could tell by her expression that this was going to become more and more uncomfortable. He couldn’t even bear the thought of not seeing her again. He had reason to believe she wouldn’t be too crazy about the idea, either.

  “Lukas, if I was able to do all this forgiving, do you think all my relationships would improve?” There was a breathless, expectant quality to her voice.

  “Yes.” Tell her. Say it! Say you can’t see her again.

  She hesitated. “Yours and mine?”

  The chair became very uncomfortable. “We already have a good…friendship.” You coward! But this was so…impossible. God, if You want me to back away from her now, You’ll have to do it through me. I can’t do it myself. I can’t do this to her!

  “How good, Lukas?” She pushed away from the counter and walked back over to kneel next to him. He could almost touch the bond that connected them. “Is there some kind of future for us? Is there some possibility that this ‘good friendship’ will turn into more?”

  He took another deep breath and willed his heart to stop. Period. This was too hard.

  But he couldn’t fantasize about a future with her, and he couldn’t allow her to do it, either. “Mercy…” He hesitated, looked into her eyes, looked away.

  “Because I think it already has,” she said quickly, as if she was afraid of the answer she could already read in his expression. “I’m not trying to pressure you. It’s just that I can’t help believing you feel the same way I do.”

  She reached up and squeezed his arm, the touch of her hand sending warmth and pleasure all over his body. The power there could paralyze him. Her affection was such a new experience for him. And frightening.

  And he had no resistance. He had to rely on God’s power for this. He didn’t understand it. He just knew the truth. The powerful need he felt between them right now was not something that would draw her to Christ. It might well be something that could draw Lukas away from his conviction and, eventually, destroy their relationship. He had no human hope of controlling the emotions between them. Only the Spirit of Christ could do that, and she did not belong to that Spirit.

  He saw it now. It didn’t make this less painful, but he understood.

  “Isn’t that important?” she asked. “The way we feel about each other? The way we communicate so well, even without words a lot of times? That we have so much in common?”

  He had to be honest with her. He couldn’t lead her on or lead himself on any longer. He knew what he had to do. He looked back down at her. “There is one major thing we don’t have in common, and for me that’s the most important thing,” he said quietly.

  At the widening pain of her eyes and the swift intake of her breath, he felt a shaft of resistance shoot through him. But only for a moment. Yes, Lord.

  There was a long silence. Lukas felt the weight of her disappointment. Was this how it felt to have your heart break?

  “Why are you doing this all of a sudden?” she asked at last. “I thought…there was such a connection. You’ve been so tender, so…honest. I’m not some silly little schoolgirl who thinks of a kiss as a promise, but you waited for so long, and everything was suddenly so right. I thought it meant something to you, too.”

  “It meant a lot.” It meant…too much. “I’m sorry, Mercy. You can’t imagine how much it has meant to me to have you in my life. I—”

  “Is there somebody else?” Her voice held an unaccustomed tremble.

  He shot her a startled look and saw tears shimmering in her dark eyes. “No!”

  The tears spilled over. “It’s the menopause, isn’t it? Somebody told you about my test results. Why should I be surprised in Knolls, Missouri? Of course you’d want children. A man like you—”

  “Menopause? You’re in menopause?” The knife pierced a little deeper into his heart. What had he done to her? Now she was going to think—

  She nodded. “The hot flashes…I had an FSH.”

  “Oh, Mercy, no.” He reached out and touched her then. He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t help the tender compassion that flowed through him. She leaned against his chest, and his arms reached out to her in an irresistible embrace. He felt the softness of her hair against his face. This time it was she who drew away.

  “You deserve children, Lukas.”

  “Of course I’d love to have children someday, but I’m not looking for a mother for future children. I want a mate to share my life with, the one whom God has chosen for me, and if He chooses not to give us children, then that would be something I could accept.”

  Sudden understanding dawned on her face. “Oh.” His own pain reflected in her eyes, and then a flash of confusion. “It’s a God thing.”

  He took a deep breath, held her gaze a moment longer and nodded. That was one way to put it. It was the correct conclusion, but how could he explain something she would not be able to completely understand without that same Spirit in her?

  “Mercy,” he said gently. “I care so much about you. A great deal. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, and I’m going to miss you like crazy. It will be hard to get over you.” His voice broke.

  She slumped back in her chair and shuffled her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Lukas, you sound like a man in love to me.” Her voice still had that vulnerable quality in it that broke his heart.

  He pushed away from the table, got to his feet and reached down to draw her up with him. “I’m sorry. I know how you feel, because I think I feel the same way, but, Mercy, this is wrong for us now.” What he didn’t say was that it might always be wrong for them. What about Theo? “You were right the night you suggested we stop seeing each other. I was wrong to argue.”

  “No, Lukas.” A quiet urgency entered her voice now.

  “I kept telling myself…but I know you haven’t come to that p
lace in your life where you can allow God to take control, and we shouldn’t get any closer….”

  She dropped her hands to her sides and stared at him. “Control?” Anger gradually replaced the tears in her eyes. “You’re telling me I need to give my soul to a heartless God who leads me on with the hope of a future with you and then supposedly tells you to dump me?”

  “He didn’t tell me to dump you.”

  She backed away from him. “Where’s all that compassion I see you sharing with your patients, Lukas?” The anger deepened and grew. “Where’s that intelligence you displayed when you brought Darlene back from death Monday?” She clenched her fists together at her sides. “How can you stand there in your self-righteous judgment and tell me I haven’t given enough to your demanding God?” She shook her head, looked around for her purse, found it and jerked it from the counter. “I’m out of here. You’re crazy.”

  “No! Please, Mercy, wait.” He followed her through the house. “I know I’m saying this all wrong, but I need to explain….”

  She shoved open the front door and rushed outside before he could reach her. The door slammed in his face with a heavy thud, and seconds later her car started.

  He ran out onto his front porch in time to see her reversing from the driveway onto the street. Her tires squealed against blacktop as she drove away, and she did not look back.

  Mercy drove down the last block to her house at ten miles per hour, tears still dripping down her face and onto her shirt. She managed to find a tissue on the seat of her car and dabbed away most of the obvious signs of her crying. But inside she was bleeding, and no amount of tears could wash that away.

  She knew she was arriving home far too early, and Mom and Tedi would wonder why, but she wasn’t in the mood to drive around and kill time just to keep up a pretense.

  Had this whole summer been a pretense? Had she been fooling herself into believing that something good was actually going to happen to her?