LITMIR.BIZ

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with Grandpa.”

      A hank of dark brown hair tumbled over Philip’s brow, covering a hazel eye. He swept it off his forehead. “Ben wants to play ball.”

      Michael’s green eyes fixed on her. “Why can’t we take him outside? We do at home.”

      Mary glanced through the window. The sun shone bright for October; the wind had died. A perfect fall day. But with Luke Jacobs snooping about town, she couldn’t bear letting Ben out of her sight.

      Ben jumped up and down, his pleading eyes melting her resolve. “Can I? Please?”

      If the boys played out back, no one could see them from the street. “All right, just until we eat lunch. Here’s your ball.”

      Ben whooped and trotted alongside her as they headed for the door. She had work to do, but the beauty of the day and the boys’ shiny faces pulled her. Chores shouldn’t come before her children but sadly often did.

      A few minutes later, her father joined them and raked leaves while her sons tossed the ball. As soon as her father gathered a pile, the boys tumbled into it, hollering with delight. Even her father, who saw his efforts undone in minutes, chuckled at their antics.

      “Children and leaves go together,” he said, resting a forearm on the rake. “When you were young, every fall you collected leaves and pressed them in the pages of my medical books.” He smiled then tugged her close. “Daughter, you’ve brought indescribable joy to your mother and me.”

      Mary leaned into him, wanting to be that carefree girl, instead of a woman weighed down by the past and what the future might hold. “You and Mother gave me a wonderful life, Daddy.”

      Leaving the boys to their fun, Mary and her father ambled indoors arm-in-arm. “I’ll clean the surgery before I start lunch,” Mary said.

      “You have your own chores to do. I can manage here.”

      “We’ll work together.”

      Her father crossed to the counter where a familiar bottle sat.

      Too familiar.

      A knot formed in Mary’s stomach. Luke Jacobs’s potion reminded her of their confrontation in the square. Of his unsettling interest in Ben. And his accusation that she’d followed him to the livery. Every time they met fire or ice erupted in her veins, leaving her reeling. Feeling wrung out. Confused or frightened.

      Her father picked up the container. “I decided to give that peddler’s tonic a try. He told me the secret ingredient is catnip. Imagine that?”

      “How could you purchase that man’s remedy, knowing I worry about his interest in Ben?”

      “Kitten, I’m a doctor. I must be open to anything that’ll help my patients, whether I like the seller or not.” He smiled. “I took a dose last night and got the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages. I plan to buy a couple more bottles.”

      “I didn’t know you had trouble sleeping, Daddy.”

      “Ever since your mother—” He looked away, blinking hard, then cleared his throat. “I fall asleep in my chair, but by the time I get to bed, I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling.”

      To learn the fatigue on her father’s face had more to do with the pain he carried in his heart than the patients in his practice banged against Mary’s lungs. She slipped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug. “Delivering babies and making house calls in the middle of the night doesn’t help either. What you need is another doctor in here.”

      He ignored her comment. “All I need is a couple nights of taking this stuff. That should break the cycle.” He gave her a smile. “That medicine might do you some good too, with those severe headaches of yours.”

      She stepped away from her father. “Never!”

      He laughed and tweaked her chin. “You’re a stubborn woman, Mary Lynn Graves.”

      In his humorous tone, Mary heard his approval and basked in its warmth. She laid a soft palm on her father’s cheek. “Like you, Daddy. Just like you.”

      “Goes to show, the Good Lord knew what He was doing when He brought you to us.”

      Moisture filled her eyes. Her father always made her feel special, loved. She’d expected all men to be like Henry Lawrence.

      How wrong she’d been.

      She craved the happiness her father had shared with her mother, happiness she’d never found with her husband.

      At night with the boys tucked in bed, she ached with loneliness, reliving all those endless evenings she’d spent waiting for Sam, dreading his shuffling steps, his hands fumbling at the door, his blurry eyes resting on, yet not seeing, her. Even with him in the house lying beside her, he was lost to her. Alcohol took her place as his companion, as the love of his life. She couldn’t compete with a mistress that enabled him to forget the suffering of his childhood.

      What had she become? A woman focused on regrets, instead of counting her blessings—her father and her sons. They were the only men she needed in her life.

      What if she lost Ben? A shiver snaked down her spine. She met her father’s gaze. “I’m afraid of what Luke Jacobs could do to all of our lives.”

      “I’m sorry. I know that peddler has you upset, but I suspect you’re overreacting.” He gave her a smile. “The Good Lord will work it out. Give Him time.”

      Obviously, her father didn’t grasp the enormity of the situation. “Given enough time, Ben could be riding on the seat of that peddler’s wagon—on his way out of town.”

      Her father frowned. “Guess I’ll have another talk with that fellow. See what I make of him.”

      Henry Lawrence wouldn’t let anyone harm her or the boys. A load of worry shifted from her shoulders to his. With a lighter step, she scrubbed the surgery and then headed to her father’s quarters to prepare lunch.

      After they’d eaten, Mary set about cleaning her father’s rooms. Michael and Philip had joined their grandfather out back, once again raking leaves but this time burning them in a barrel. Mary kept Ben inside, away from smoke, a trigger for his asthma. Nearby her new son stacked the wooden blocks she’d loved as a child. Her parents saved everything she’d ever touched, no matter how insignificant. She soaked up that realization like a thirsty sponge. She owed them everything, God even more. She hadn’t come close to paying the debt.

      When she became a doctor, she’d keep her father’s legacy alive in this town, long after he couldn’t care for his patients.

      True, going to school and studying, taking care of her sons wouldn’t be easy, but she could and would manage it all, as soon as her father had help in the practice. She’d prayed for God to send a doctor. Surely one of the two remaining applicants would be His answer.

      Finished with the cleaning, she strolled into the office and peered out the back window. The boys and her father had made progress but still had work to do. She might as well catch up with the accounts. Her work at home could wait another day.

      She sat at her desk and delved into the sorry state of her father’s books. He rarely collected cash. Now Luke Jacobs picked her father’s pockets. As she recorded the payment of a bushel of apples, her hand shook and ink splotched the page. If only that man would leave town.

      Right then, outside the window, Luke Jacobs strode past. Slowly, trying not to alert Ben, she rose and inched closer. At the sign alongside the path leading to her father’s office, he paused, reading Henry Lawrence, M.D. Then he glanced toward the entrance. Mary caught her breath, held it, her body unbending as steel, ready to spring into action to shield Ben. A second later, he moved on.

      Mary sagged against the frame. Could he be looking for her home? Hoping to find Ben? Or merely searching for another place to sell his remedy?

      Either way, Mary had a sinking feeling that

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