Harlequin Love Inspired March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Patrice Lewis (best large ereader .txt) 📕

“Bishop.” Levy shook hands. “Quite the weather outside, ain’t so?”

“Ja. I wanted to ask how it is with your sister’s baby?”

“Uh, fine. Jane Troyer is doing an excellent job caring for her.”

“Gut, gut. But Levy, you know that can only be a temporary solution.” Bishop Kemp stroked his beard. “The boppli needs stability. Have you thought about getting married?”

“Married?” Levy’s voice went high-pitched.

“Ja, of course. Married. That way the baby can have both a mother and a father.”

“That’s not a gut reason to get married.” He scowled.

“Then you need to seriously think about giving Mercy to a family who can raise her.” The bishop’s voice was gentle and persuasive.

“That’s not acceptable either.” Levy scowled harder.

“Levy, are you listening to yourself? You’re not being logical. You can’t take care of her on your own—not if you have to work on the farm all day—so as I see it, you have three choices. You can get married, you can put her up for adoption or you can hire a succession of nannies.”

Levy was silent, glowering.

The bishop continued. “Let me ask you this—why are you determined to keep Mercy? What’s wrong with putting her up for adoption with another family?”

“She’s all I have of Eliza.”

“Ja, that’s what you have said. So let me ask you a very, very hard question. Will you do a better job raising Mercy than you did raising Eliza?”

He stared, wide-eyed. “I don’t know,” he groaned.

Bishop Kemp laid a hand on Levy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to bring up such difficult things, my sohn, but you have to be practical. If you let her be adopted, nothing says you have to stay entirely out of her life. You can be as involved as you want. But the best thing you can give that boppli is stability…and you don’t have that right now.”

Levy’s mouth pinched. “I know you’re right, but it causes me physical pain to think about giving her away.”

“Well, nothing must be decided right now. If Jane Troyer is doing as gut a job as you say, then you have time to think things through. But Levy, don’t wait too long to decide. The longer you wait, the harder it will be on Mercy.”

“Ja, I know.” Levy squared his shoulders. “I’ll give it some thought, Bishop Kemp. And meanwhile, I’ll continue to pray for Eliza.”

Levy purchased the formula, then returned to his buggy. He unhitched Maggie and drove home through the rain.

“You’re not being logical.” Bishop Kemp’s voice echoed in his ears as Levy reached home. He guided the horse into the barn and unhitched her, then spent more time than necessary grooming and feeding the mare. He oiled the harness and hung it on its hook. He even wiped down the buggy. Anything to avoid going into the house.

But when he could find no other excuse to putter around the barn, he placed his straw hat firmly on his head and walked into the house.

Jane was in the kitchen, which smelled of fresh-baked cookies. A huge platter of them rested on the table. She sat reading a book, a mug of steaming tea at her elbow.

“So this is what you do all day,” he teased.

She raised her head. “Ja. That’s after I made lunch, swept and dusted, did a load of laundry and hung it in the basement, and made cookies. Have one, they’re oatmeal-raisin.”

“Danke.” He picked one up and leaned against the counter while he ate it. “Is Mercy napping?”

“Ja.” She paused. “Levy, what’s bothering you?”

“What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

“You’re jumpy as a cat today, and so critical. Have I done something wrong?”

The woman was too insightful. Not for anything would Levy confess his true concerns. “Nein.” He knew his voice sounded curt. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I, uh…have some things to do in the barn.”

He fled the house.

* * *

Jane was far more upset by Levy’s dark mood than she expected. Tears welled in her eyes, and she wiped them away.

Through the kitchen window she saw Levy pause in the doorway of the barn, just out of the relentless rain. Whatever “things” he had to do in the barn didn’t seem urgent, as he simply stood there looking into the dark interior.

A grumble of thunder came from a distance, and still he stood motionless in the doorway. Jane admitted to herself why Levy’s brusqueness hurt so much. She had begun to pin romantic hopes on the man where none existed.

“Jane, you schtupid fool,” she whispered. “Wasn’t Isaac enough? Do you need to get kicked in the shins by Levy too?”

It became very clear to Jane that she wanted Levy to see her as a woman, an interesting woman, an attractive woman…not a “useful” woman. But now, it seemed, even her usefulness was limited. What is it you do all day?

Through the window she saw him turn and head back to the house. She composed herself just before he opened the kitchen door and strode back in.

He filled the kettle and set it on the stove to heat, pulled out a mug and a tea bag, then sat down across the table from her. “Can we talk?”

“Ja.” She suppressed the shuddering breath that preceded a crying jag. “I want to know what I’ve done wrong.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Jane. I’m just worried about Mercy’s future.” He rubbed his chin. “I bumped into the bishop in town. He asked me why I didn’t give Mercy to a family who could raise her. It’s a lot harder than I thought to be her guardian, and now I’m questioning my decision. The bishop still wants me to reconsider.”

“But you’re stubbornly refusing to do what’s right for Mercy.”

“Yes, I am.” His face grew stern. “I love my sister. I love her more than anything. A little frightened part of me is worried that if I give Mercy away, I’m giving away all hope of seeing Eliza again. I keep wondering where I went wrong with her, what I could have done differently.”

“Levy.” Jane stood up