Solemn Oath (13 page)

“Thanks, Lauren.”

“Hey, a bunch of us from church are going fishing Sunday afternoon. Want to come?”

“No, thanks, I'm taking a trip to see my dad and stepmom.” Lukas caught sight of Mercy across the large room, already caught in another conversation before she could reach the buffet. She glanced in his direction, looked at Lauren, then dropped her gaze. He excused himself and turned to blaze a trail through the crowd across the elegant ivory carpet.

He had smelled the heavenly food before he saw the elaborate crystal punch bowl surrounded by what little food was left: finger sandwiches and salads and—sure enough—barbecued smoked sausage. He felt his mouth water even before he caught sight of the spring rolls and crab dip and caviar. He hadn't eaten since noon, and there were three spring rolls remaining on the gold-trimmed plate.

“Hello, Lukas!” Ivy Richmond, Mercy's mother, called out from the far corner of the room, where she sat on a sofa
beside Estelle Pinkley. Ivy looked a lot like Mercy, with her high cheekbones and firm chin. She wore her long, liberally white-streaked hair up tonight. She smiled and held out a hand for him to join them.

Instinctively, Lukas glanced toward Jarvis to satisfy himself that the crusty doctor had not picked up on Ivy's hail. He hadn't. He was too busy watching his hostess circle the room in her low-cut dress.

“Don't worry,” Ivy said, reading Lukas's mind. “He probably won't even recognize you.”

“I'll have to trust your judgment.” Lukas noticed that Ivy wore jeans more faded than his own. “I like your outfit,” he said. “It's what I call comfortably casual.”

“Thanks, Lukas.” She glanced toward her daughter, who stood talking with an older couple by the buffet table. “Mercy got her fashion sense from her father, obviously. I'm glad to see it hasn't worn off on you, but by this time next year she'll have your wardrobe overhauled.”

Lukas saw Mrs. Pinkley stifle a grin at Ivy's offhand presumption that Lukas and Mercy would still be together next year. Lukas glanced toward the buffet table again and saw, to his joy, that Mercy was approaching the buffet table with two plates. She was either very hungry or she was going to take pity on him. He turned to go join her.

“Have a seat, Lukas,” came Estelle's deep voice of authority. She indicated an empty folding chair beside the sofa where she and Ivy sat. “Mercy told us she was going to feed you. Shouldn't you be home in bed? You had to pull double duty today, didn't you?”

The lady looked more relaxed than Lukas had ever seen her, and for once her hair wasn't in perfect position, and her collar wasn't perfectly straight. Lukas sank down slowly on the chair in obedience to an administrative order. “I got a little sleep last night.” He hoped his stomach wouldn't growl loudly enough to harmonize with
the jazz music that floated across the room from Jarvis's big stereo system.

Robert Simeon, the local internal medicine physician, wandered by and spoke to Lukas and the two ladies, then ambled in Mercy's direction. He and Mercy had been friends before Lukas came to Knolls, and out of curiosity—and perhaps a little more—Lukas tried to keep a casual gaze on him, but Ivy's voice caught his attention.

“Oh, look,” she said, putting her hand on Estelle's arm. “There's Jake Casey. Did you know his neighbor got out on bail? What was that judge thinking? Now poor Cowboy has to worry if that crazy man's going to shoot him again or go after another one of his animals. Estelle, this county lost a great judge when your husband retired.”

Lukas turned again to catch sight of Mercy laughing at something Simeon said. Then she turned away from him, and the plates were filled with food this time. Yes! She had probably heard his stomach growling all the way across the room.

Lukas stood up and took her burden, then had to give it back while he scrounged for another chair. When he was finally seated with his plate balanced in an unsteady perch on his lap, he saw Mercy watching to see if he would bow his head and say grace before he ate, as he always did. This time he didn't. Why embarrass her at this function, which seemed to mean so much to her, when he could just as easily talk to God from his heart, as he did throughout the day?

So he picked up his first spring roll and devoured it while thanking God for it and for Mercy's generosity. She'd given him the rest of the spring rolls and crab dip, and an extra serving of barbecued smoked sausage. He tried not to gulp his food, though he doubted anyone was paying attention. Mercy chatted with Ivy and Estelle and greeted several others who came by to say hello. How she managed to have her mouth empty and free every time someone asked her a question,
Lukas couldn't figure. He was usually chewing when someone greeted him, and once he almost choked when Dr. Wong slapped him on the back halfway through a finger sandwich.

He saved the best for last and had bitten into his first piece of barbecued sausage when he heard a familiar, sharp voice behind him. “Enjoy the power while you have it, Bower. I plan to take my job back in a few weeks.”

Lukas turned to see Jarvis George standing over him. He picked up the plate from his lap and stood up while taking a breath for reply.

That was when the sausage lodged in his throat.

While Mercy and the other two ladies spoke with their host about his struggle with TB, Lukas tried with increasing desperation to breathe, but he could not cough, could not get any air. He couldn't even gasp.

Jarvis turned back to Lukas. “How's your lawsuit with Bailey Little progressing?” His voice was actually conversational instead of confrontational.

Lukas stared at the other doctor's face, which blurred through tearing eyes. He had to do something, or he would pass out and cause a scene, and Mercy would die of embarrassment. And he would just die.

He dropped his plate, placed a double fist in his midgut and shoved hard. The obstruction cleared, but not without a price. He gasped for breath and looked down in horror at the barbecue sauce that had spilled from his overturned plate, staining Jarvis George's pristine ivory carpet.

Lukas groaned. He hated parties.

 

“See, look.” Abby Cuendet sat gingerly down on the blue-and-white-plaid quilt on her bed and held up her legs for Tedi Zimmerman to admire. “I got twenty-two stitches altogether, and some of them had two layers!”

“So? Your skin has seven layers. That's no big deal.” After all, it was just her legs, not her throat, as Tedi's had been.

“It's not the same thing,” Abby said.

“Do they hurt?”

“They're okay. Dr. Bower gave Mom and Dad some medicine for me if it gets too bad. I bet I don't have to take it, though.”

“Did you cry?”

Abby scrunched her face and pushed her oversize glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. “Wouldn't you cry if your legs had been sliced open by barbed wire?”

Tedi sighed. Abby could sometimes be a real pain.

Abby leaned closer. “I asked Dr. Bower if he was going to marry your mom.”

Tedi gasped. “What! Are you crazy?”

Abby giggled.

“What'd he say?”

“I don't think he wanted to talk about it.” She shrugged. “He's nice.” She glanced toward her open bedroom door and motioned for Tedi to close it. Tedi almost refused, until Abby gestured toward her bandaged injuries.

“I thought it didn't hurt much,” Tedi muttered as she went to the door, looked up and down the hallway, stepped back in and closed them off from Mr. and Mrs. Cuendet's sharp hearing.

“You want to know the best thing about getting hurt today?” Abby whispered as Tedi jumped back onto the bed.

“There was something good about it?”

Abby leaned closer. “Mom and Dad were so worried about me, they forgot to fight. I even saw Dad put his arm around Mom at the hospital.”

Tedi wanted to ask what was the big deal about that, but then she remembered how much Abby's parents fought, and how Abby had come to school a few times crying. Tedi's own mother and father had fought for as long as she could remember. At least Abby's parents still lived together. Tedi could barely remember the time when her
mother and father split up, except she remembered how badly it hurt, and how much she cried, and how much Mom cried when Dad got custody.

“I heard Dad tell Mom last week that he was tired of fighting,” Abby said. “He said he'd almost rather get a divorce. I don't want them to get a divorce.” She looked down and traced the edge of one of the bandages with her finger, then looked up at Tedi. “How did it feel when it happened to you?”

“Awful. Everything went wrong after that.”

“I bet you'd've done almost anything to stop it.”

“Yeah.”

Abby held her gaze, her eyes narrowing. “So would I.”

“Yeah, but what can you do? You're just a kid.”

Abby ignored the question. “Are you going to see your dad?”

Tedi frowned and shrugged. “I know Mom doesn't want me to, but she won't say it. She'll talk to Grandma, then she'll talk to Lukas, then she'll think about it awhile, and in the end she'll do what she thinks is best for me.” Abby didn't seem to be listening, but Tedi kept talking anyway. “She'll ask me what I think, then she'll try really hard not to act hurt if I say I want to see him.” She thought about it a moment. “I guess I want to see him, but in a way I want him to suffer longer. I don't want to go back to the way it was. And I guess if I told Mom I wanted to see him, she'd let me.” Abby still wasn't listening, but Tedi didn't really care. She'd made her decision.

“I bet I could keep them from getting a divorce,” Abby said softly, still fingering the gauze on her legs.

“How?”

Abby looked at Tedi. “I can make them forget to fight again.”

“No, you can't. I think parents want to hate each other more than they want to love their kids.”

“You're wrong, and I'll prove it. My parents love me enough to stop hating each other.”

Tedi shrugged and shook her head. Abby had a lot to learn about managing parents.

T
hirty minutes after the Heimlich debacle, Lukas continued to smart with humiliation. After Mercy had made sure he was okay, she had laughingly accused him of doing it on purpose to spite Jarvis. Then she had helped clean up the barbecue sauce and mingled deeper and deeper into the noisily chattering crowd, attempting, every few moments, to draw Lukas with her. He had refused. Now she was out of sight altogether. Why had he agreed to come? He wanted to go to his quiet home and crawl into bed and close his eyes. He was so tired….

But he was a gentleman in spite of his poor table manners, and a gentleman did not leave a date at a party. He didn't want to leave Mercy, anyway. He wanted to take her with him, but she looked as if she was having so much fun. Perhaps he could find a nice soft recliner in a corner somewhere—

“Dr. Bower?” came another familiar male voice behind him.

Lukas turned in surprise to find himself facing Theodore Zimmerman. For a moment, all Lukas could do was stare. He'd forgotten to warn Mercy.

Theodore looked different from the way Lukas remembered him. The prominent bone structure of his face was
sharper due to apparent weight loss, and dark shadows hovered beneath his eyes.

“Yes?” Lukas glanced past the man's right shoulder in search of Mercy, but she was lost in the throng. “If you're looking for—”

“I need to talk to you.” Theo turned and studied the crowd, his gaze darting quickly back and forth. He turned back to Lukas. “Sorry to bother you here. I wasn't invited. I overheard someone downtown talking about the party.”

His voice was clearer and softer than Lukas remembered. But this was the first time Lukas had ever met him when he was sober.

“At the time it seemed like a good idea to come here and try to see Mercy, away from the office or the hospital, and also away from her house, where she'd feel threatened.”

Lukas waited for a moment, but Theo didn't explain further. “So what do you want with me?” He couldn't keep suspicious resentment from his voice, couldn't push from his mind Mercy's warning about Theo's ability to manipulate people. And he couldn't forget Tedi.

“Just to talk.” Theo's light blue gaze searched Lukas's face. “Please. Would you mind talking with me for a minute?”

“What about?”

Apparently taking this as agreement, Theo turned with a gesture for Lukas to accompany him and led the way out toward an adjacent sunroom, surprisingly empty at the moment. Lukas shrugged and followed. One false word about Mercy, just one attempt…

Theo turned back around, his gaze wandering around the small, windowed, gardenlike room. “I know this house well. Mercy and I used to come here to parties and dinners when Mrs. George was still alive. That was when Mercy's father was still partners with Dr. George.” He sat down on a cushioned wicker chair and gestured toward its twin.

Lukas sat on the edge, watching Theo. The man was the same age as Mercy, which would make him thirty-nine or forty, but he looked older. His blond hair was neatly cut and combed back, and his skin had a faded tan that made him appear slightly jaundiced. He had broad shoulders, and his gray silk shirt revealed lines of a muscular build. He was a couple of inches taller than Lukas, but he had an uncustomary slump to his shoulders that Lukas didn't remember seeing before. It gave him the appearance of a man defeated. The only two times Lukas had met him were in the emergency room, when Lukas and the E.R. staff were trying to save Tedi's life. There was no reason for this man to want to talk to him.

“First of all, Dr. Bower, I want to thank you for saving my daughter's life, not just once, but twice.”

After a long hesitation, Lukas nodded. What was he supposed to say, “You're welcome”? He couldn't take credit for saving lives.

“Second,” Theo continued, “I'm sorry for the way I acted this spring.”

Lukas recalled the man's belligerence in the E.R. when Tedi had almost died from an allergic reaction to a bee sting. The second time, when Theo realized he'd almost killed her himself, he was panic-stricken.

Theodore took a deep breath. “I've learned in the past three months to say, ‘I'm an alcoholic, and that's no excuse for the way I behaved.'”

Lukas nodded. Okay, that was a step forward. But according to Mercy and Tedi, Theodore had been contrite about his actions before. They didn't trust him now. Neither did Lukas, and the issue wasn't just about the drinking. It was about the way he treated people, specifically Mercy. Lukas felt very protective of Mercy and Tedi right now, almost as if he had a right to feel that way.

Theo readjusted himself in the chair. “I know you've
been friends with Mercy for a while. Word gets around in a small town like Knolls, and all I can say is I hope she's found someone who'll treat her right. I never did.”

Lukas sighed. This was exactly why he hated parties. He never knew what to say at awkward moments like this. This subject had sure never come up at a party before.

Theo continued. “I learned a lot this summer. I had to face things about myself that were hard to face, and some things I haven't been able to accept yet. No wonder Mercy hates me so—”

“Uh, Theodore, shouldn't you be talking to Mercy about this? She might want to hear it.”

A muscle jerked in the side of Theo's face. “Don't you think I've tried? I'm sure she told you all about—” He grimaced, glanced through the doorway toward the partiers, as if she might come out and catch him talking about her. “She won't listen. She's never listened to me, but she's always reminding me what a jerk I am.” He bent forward, gaze intent on Lukas. “If she'll listen to anyone, she'll listen to you.”

Just as Mercy said, this was Theo's method—draw people into his confidence, then convince them to help him twist the knife in Mercy's back. “But you've also talked to Tedi and Ivy,” Lukas said, feeling the resentment building. Ordinarily he didn't treat people like this. He did not like this man. “Now you're talking to me. How can you expect Mercy's family and friends to gang up on her and force her to allow you to have visitation rights with Tedi?”

Theo's eyes flashed briefly with irritation, then he sighed and slumped deeper in his chair. “That's not what I'm trying to do. Of course I want to see Tedi. What father wouldn't want to see his own little girl? But when I told Mercy I wanted to prove I had changed, she wouldn't even give me a chance to explain. How can I prove to her I've changed when she won't even give me a chance?”

“How've you changed?” That was funny—Lukas suddenly didn't seem to be having trouble with the conversation. He was having more trouble controlling several different emotions—like anger…indignation…and maybe a little guilt at his own sudden, obvious lack of compassion—but no trouble finding words.

“I haven't had a drink all summer, and I've gotten a job down at Jack's Print Shop on the square. I apologized to my former boss, Mr. Johnson, for using his money to buy that property to make a profit. He dropped the embezzlement charges.”

Lukas watched him without replying.

The even features of Theo's face shot through with a grimace. He looked down. “I know Mercy was the one who paid Mr. Johnson off. I thanked her for it, and she reminded me that she didn't do it for me. She did it for Tedi. She hates me, Lukas.”

That wasn't exactly late-breaking news. “I still feel you should be talking to her about this, and if she won't talk tonight, try later, after she's had some time to grow accustomed to the fact that you're out of detox.”

Theo glanced out the window to the darkness beyond. “I know I shouldn't blame her. In the past few weeks I've started hating myself. The other day, when I talked to Tedi, I could see in her eyes that she's still afraid of me.”

“What did Ivy say when you talked to her?” Lukas asked.

Theo shook his head. “She said time will tell. She said I would have to pay my dues.”

Lukas nodded. “I agree with Ivy. You can't expect anybody to believe you're suddenly a new person after years of abusive behavior.” Lukas caught the caustic tone of his own voice, took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “We all have to prove ourselves,” he said more gently. “It sounds to me like you need to prove yourself to yourself.”

“I know. I've got a temper. And the embezzlement…
Well, I told myself at the time that I was doing the right thing. I didn't mean to steal the money. I meant to use it for a profit, then return it before Mr. Johnson knew it was missing. I lost some of my own money in the investment, too. But I know now that I was wrong.” He looked up at Lukas and gave a self-deprecating grimace. “Ivy asked me if I had anything to replace my old habits. Then she said if I was to read the Bible, like she's been telling me to do for years, I'd know what she was talking about. She said Jesus lays it all out when He teaches about evil spirits. I wouldn't even know where to start looking.”

Lukas silently gave Ivy a nod of approval. It was an apt illustration. “I can't quote the chapter and verse,” he said, “but I think she's talking about an incident in the book of Matthew, where Jesus warns the people about the impossibility of self-reformation. It tells about the evil spirit that left a man and wandered for a while and found no rest. When it returned to find the man still empty, the spirit called seven other spirits even more wicked, and they all entered the man, and he was worse than before.”

Laughter reached them from the other rooms, and the chatter increased. Theo opened his mouth to speak, then his eyes widened, and he looked beyond Lukas toward the entrance to the sunroom. Lukas turned his head to find Mercy stepping up to the threshold, her face white, eyes filled with competing emotions of fear and anger as she watched him and Theo together.

 

Mercy felt the pain of betrayal even as she struggled to remind herself that Lukas would never betray her. But he knew how she felt about Theo. She'd warned him about what Theo was trying to do, and he knew she was afraid for Tedi. In this mixed-up world of crazy court decisions, what would keep some judge from making the same kind of mistake they had made before? How could Lukas sit out here so calmly and—

“Hello, Mercy.” Theodore stood to his feet. “I was hoping for a chance to talk to you.”

She kept her voice steady. “Were you? I've been here as long as Lukas has. You managed to find
him
, didn't you?” Her eyes flicked briefly toward Lukas but then shot back to Theo. “Who else have you cornered here tonight?”

Lukas stood and stepped toward her. “Mercy, it's okay.”

“No, it's not!” The words came sharp and loud, betraying her fear, so loud that she heard people shushing each other in the room behind her. This irritated her. Oh no, they mustn't miss a single juicy detail. Why had no one told her Theo was here? Maybe they'd all been waiting for this show tonight, rubbing shoulders with good ol' Theo and waiting with anticipation for the fireworks.

She wouldn't give them fireworks, badly as she wanted to. She'd struggled too hard to rebuild her reputation with these people; she wasn't going to throw it all away by hurling the accusations she wanted to at Theo right now.

She kept her voice low. “Are you finished feeding your line to Lukas?”

Lukas stepped to her side and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “Mercy, let's go outside and get some air and—”

Mercy jerked from his touch and turned to glare at him, but the calm, compassionate look in his eyes quieted something inside her. She heard whispers in the other room.

“This isn't what it looks like,” Lukas said softly. “Jarvis did not invite him. He just came here to talk to you.”

“Well, doesn't it seem strange to you that he never did? He found you instead. That's how he does things, Lukas. He weaves this net around me without actually touching me, and then he closes in for the kill. You and Mom and Tedi are just a part of his net.” Her voice broke.
Stay in control.
She'd had too little sleep the past few days. “I don't want to talk to him.”

“You don't have to, Mercy.” Lukas had such a soothing
voice, so full of kindness. “You don't have to do anything.” He reached out and touched her shoulder again, and this time it seemed as if something of his own spirit came to her through that touch. “Why don't we go for a walk. It's going to be okay. Theodore is leaving.” He turned toward Theo, and his voice became suddenly firm. “Aren't you, Theo?”

After a long silence, Mercy forced herself to look at her ex-husband again. His face was pale, his eyes bright, as if he were in shock.

He stared at Lukas, then at Mercy. “Yes, I'm leaving,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat and took a step forward, as if to step past Mercy. He hesitated, stopped, shook his head. “You're right, Mercy. I'm still doing it. I didn't realize…I'm sorry.” He took another step.

Mercy dropped her gaze from those pleading eyes. She waited for him to walk away. She concentrated on breathing evenly and deeply as a voice from the other room snapped out.

“What's going on in here?” It was Jarvis. “Zimmerman! What're you doing here?”