House of Mercy (31 page)

For a fraction of a second the form appeared to be a fallen antelope rather than a woman, and then the vision vanished. But it was enough to propel Beth to her side. The carpet along the aisle had been stained with a dark drip.

Beth knelt beside her at her shoulders, which jerked with each hiccupping sob. Touching her might be a shock, so Beth refrained. Still, the woman sensed her and reacted immediately, but with no physical strength; she held her breath and turned her head toward Beth. Her eyes were swollen and red, and still filled with tears, and fine strands of silky black hair crossed her face.

“Let me help you,” Beth said. “What’s wrong?”

The woman’s voice was a whisper. “Everything.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sick?”

The woman released the rail, and her arm flopped to the ground. Beth wondered how the woman had come here alone in this condition.

“Can I get someone for you?”

The woman licked her lips and drew the back of her hand across her eyes. “Is God around?” She cleared her throat and sharpened the edge on her voice. “Because I’d like to talk to him about a few things.”

Beth said, “I don’t know everything about God, but I think a church is as good a place as any to find him.”

“This is no church,” the woman said. “No miracles for anyone but Mathilde.”

“Can I pray for you?”

“If I die. Not before.”

It was such a strange and terrible thing to say that Beth reached out and touched the woman, as if holding on to her shoulder could prevent her from leaving the material world. Her clothes were hot as if the skin beneath it boiled, and the woman flinched.

“Your hands are ice!” she cried out, but she didn’t brush Beth’s hand off or try to roll away. In just a few seconds the tension in her arms began to release, one muscle fiber at a time. Perhaps she was too spent.

“Is there a friend—”

“He left me.”

It sounded like abandonment, though it could have been much less.
He left me here to fetch the doctor
.

There was no ring on the woman’s left hand. But there was blood coating her terribly thin legs, which looked like toothpicks protruding from her black skirt.

The woman reached up and put her hand on top of Beth’s. Her breathing leveled out.

“This helps,” she said.

“What’s your name?”

“Nova.”

“That’s pretty.”

“It’s a pointless name for an ugly life,” Nova said, and Beth felt all of the woman’s heartbreak in those words. She felt protective, maternal, even though she was the younger of the pair. She wondered if Nova’s parents had picked the right name for her.

“You need a doctor,” Beth said. It would be difficult to get this woman into the 4x4, if that was her car outside, but Beth could go quickly and come back. “Where can I find one?”

“I’m a doctor,” said a voice at the back of the sanctuary.

Beth stood. A severe-looking woman with pale features and dark, shining hair that stroked the bottom of her chin was coming down the aisle Beth had just traversed seconds ago. Her walk was more of a stalk, a weighty pounding of feet designed to make a pouting child feel powerful. She aimed herself at Beth. She carried a large purse.

Beth immediately disliked the doctor and simultaneously thought that it was unfair of her to make the judgment. But Beth disliked her heavy footfall. And she hated the distrustful look the woman shot at her, as if Beth had broken into her house to steal jewelry and secret files.

“I don’t know you.” The doctor said it like an accusation.

“The door was open,” Beth said, and then felt like a child. She shouldn’t have to defend her presence in this public place.

“Who are you?” the woman demanded.

Beth might or might not have offered her name at that point. She was thinking of asking for the doctor’s name first—an ID, credentials, all kinds of ridiculousness in a setting like this. But none of it mattered, because Nova started shrieking like the terrorized star of a horror flick, and she grabbed hold of Beth’s leg with both hands and started kicking out at the doctor.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”

Beth tried both to calm her and to pry Nova’s fingers off of her boots. The sick woman’s screams drowned out all of Beth’s soothing words, and the doctor didn’t have a chance of getting close. Nova’s energy was fierce but brief, driven by a supply of adrenaline that had already been tapped. Beth’s was just kicking into gear. Should she protect Nova from this “doctor” or hand her over?

Where was Mercy to show her what she should do?

“This is your fault, you monster!” Nova screamed. Already her legs had given out, but she’d scooched herself off a spot on the floor that was an awful, sopping crimson.

The doctor’s attention had shifted from Beth to Nova, and her demeanor switched just as quickly from hostile to placating. The light in her eyes brightened and the lines of her brow smoothed out. Perhaps she was as protective of Nova as Beth felt. If Beth had walked in on a stranger with a sick friend, she might have reacted similarly. But Nova’s reaction made little sense.

“Nova, Nova,” the doctor cooed, ignoring Beth now. “I’m so sorry about your baby.”

A baby! All the blood looked freshly terrible.

“Get away!”

“Nova, honey, let me help you.”

The doctor had set her purse on a pew and withdrew a very small syringe out of her bag. She uncapped the needle and then held it slightly behind her, so as not to frighten Nova any further.

“I don’t want your help, Catherine. I’ll sue you!”

“But you’re bleeding,” Beth pleaded. She got down on her knees next to the frantic woman.

“Let us help you,” the doctor said, and in that “us” Beth understood that whatever the truth of this battle was, she and Catherine had just joined ranks, and Nova would soon come out on the losing side.

Nova grabbed Beth by the shoulders now and pulled their faces close. “You help me,” she said, and the words were a burst of hot air across Beth’s cheeks. “Not her.”

As Nova begged, Beth sensed Mercy crouching behind her, invisible as he had been the day the antelope lay at her feet, baring his teeth just a little and pushing her forward into a great mystery. Beth placed her hands atop Nova’s and closed her eyes and began to pray.

The doctor said, “Dotti sent me to find you, honey. Dotti . . . and Garner.”

Beth lost the thread of her prayer right away. Garner sent this woman? How many men named Garner might live in a town of four hundred people?

“They’re so worried about you.” The doctor’s words, falsely sweet, were like a knife slicing Beth and Nova apart. Beth felt Nova release her and spring backward, away, to her perceived escape. Nova’s fear of the doctor strengthened her.

She was scrabbling, a blind crab. Catherine rushed her. Nova saw the needle this time. Her screams started all over. She pushed away.

The back of Nova’s head connected with the hard seat of a wooden pew and she sagged against it instantly, her spine forming an uncomfortable curve.

Beth gasped. Catherine sighed and knelt to inject the contents of the syringe into Nova’s arm.

“If people would just accept my help,” the doctor muttered without looking at Beth, “their lives would be so much simpler.”

She emptied the contents and looked up at Beth as she capped the syringe and returned it to her bag. “You can go now,” she said, unaware of the wolf sitting directly behind her in the shadow of the pews. His eyes glinted.

“I think you should accept
my
help,” Beth said.

28

N
ova needed to awake from her sedation in her own apartment, which was located conveniently enough to Cat’s own. It was the only way this scenario could end well, Cat thought, with Nova having enough time to accept her loss without blaming it on anyone.

Cat was glad for the redheaded woman’s presence then, when she realized that she’d need help getting Nova home and into bed. Never before had she been so grateful that the woman weighed less than a large dog. Now that Nova had miscarried, her physical size was nothing to regret.

“Shouldn’t you get her to a hospital?” the redhead asked. She stood away from Cat but also close, in that middle ground of indecision where she was probably trying to make sense of Nova’s hysterics and Cat’s intentions.

“What’s your name?” Cat asked. She used her naturally gentle voice and warm gaze, fearing she might have set these aside too long in her efforts to find Nova. It had been lucky for her that the woman was a mystical kook who very predictably had sought out Miracle Mattie rather than a hospital.

“Beth.”

“Beth, I’m Dr. Ransom. As awful as it is, this woman’s had a miscarriage. That’s all. They happen all the time, no medical intervention necessary. In her case, it wasn’t even unexpected. Which is part of the reason why she was so upset.” She touched Beth’s hand lightly. “You’re young. Hopefully you won’t ever have to know this kind of sadness firsthand. She just needs to rest awhile in her own bed.”

“It didn’t seem like she trusted you.”

Cat snatched her fingers back from Beth’s skin. It felt like she’d dipped the tips in a sticky goo, a quicksand that would absorb and drown her if she didn’t keep her distance. That was absurd, of course—this was a human being standing next to her, as fleshy as Cat herself. But she couldn’t shake off the sensation. She fished for a reasonable reply that would facilitate Beth’s help.

“You understand. I can’t explain without violating her privacy. But you’re right. She’s had challenges. Difficulties outside of our control. Disappointment has taught her to mistrust the people who most want to help her. It’s sad, really.”

She thought Beth might be believing her.

“I heard you say that Garner sent you to help Nova.”

That cold and sticky sensation of glue crawled up Cat’s fingertips even though she was no longer touching Beth. She realized she was rubbing her hands together as if they were coated in crumbs. What interest could this girl have in Garner? She had only mentioned him because she knew Nova trusted him.

“I did,” she said cautiously.

“Is that Garner Remke?”

“Yes.”

When Beth smiled she looked more like an innocent girl than a woman trying to judge the truth of Cat’s words. “I’m Garner’s granddaughter. I’ve been looking for him. This is unbelievable, that you know him. I thought it would take longer. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She glanced around the room as if looking for something, then her attention came back to Cat. “Do you know where I can find him?”

“His granddaughter? I didn’t know . . . Oh, this is unfortunate.” This was worse than unfortunate. It was devastating, someone come to demand Garner’s attention and perhaps take him away. Her mind filled with questions:
Where is your mother? Is your father alive? Why did you come on a horse?

“What’s unfortunate?”

Cat needed to think hard, and fast. She looked down at Nova’s peaceful but bloodied form. “Please, help me get this woman to my car. And if it’s not too much trouble for you, the two of us can get her home. Then we can talk about . . . your grandfather.”

Beth agreed to the delay. She bent and lifted Nova’s slight frame at the shoulders with the strength of someone used to physical labor and the stomach of a woman who’d seen plenty of live births.

“You live on a ranch?” Cat asked, knowing the answer. “The boots, your horse . . .”

“Yes, the Blazing B.”

“I’ve heard of it. I think I’ve heard of your father.”

“Abel Borzoi. Maybe Garner’s mentioned him.”

Cat didn’t confirm or deny this. The less she said about Garner, the more flexibility she’d have in crafting a believable story for the man’s grandchild.

“My dad passed away,” Beth said. “Just last week. I need to talk to Garner.”

She wasn’t looking at Cat when she said this, or she might have seen the fear that reached up and took Cat by the throat.

“I’m very sorry,” she murmured.

“Me too,” said Beth.

They carried Nova out of the church into the darkness that had gathered while they were inside.