Thomas entered.
Closed the door.
Then stayed near it.
Mercy looked at him.
“What?”
“You’re nervous.”
“So are you.”
“Yes.”
That helped.
Thomas removed his coat.
Mercy sat on the bed.
For weeks, their kisses had grown more intimate.
Hands.
Warmth.
Desire acknowledged without embarrassment.
But this was different.
Marriage carried expectations Mercy distrusted.
Thomas approached.
Stopped.
“Nothing has to happen because we signed paper today.”
Mercy looked up.
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
He sat beside her.
Mercy touched his face.
“I want you here.”
His eyes darkened.
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
Thomas kissed her.
Slow.
Mercy leaned closer.
His hand moved to her waist.
She guided it.
The tenderness made her chest ache.
For years, Mercy had been told directly and indirectly that a body like hers should accept whatever affection arrived.
Too large.
Too plain.
Too practical.
A woman useful enough for work, perhaps not beautiful enough for desire.
Thomas looked at her as though none of those judgments had ever been facts.
She whispered:
“Don’t look away.”
He frowned.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Even when…”
She could not finish.
Thomas understood.
His expression softened.
“Mercy.”
“Yes?”
“I married all of you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
She laughed weakly.
“That sounds very noble.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
“What was it meant to sound like?”
His mouth moved near her ear.
“Hungry.”
Mercy’s face burned.
Then she laughed.
“Thomas Bell.”
He smiled.
“You wanted honesty.”
She pulled him into another kiss.
What happened after belonged to them.
Morning arrived late.
Very late.
Seven boys waited downstairs.
When Mercy finally entered the kitchen, Matthew looked at Thomas following behind her.
Then grinned.
Mercy pointed a spoon.
“Say one word.”
Matthew immediately became fascinated by his breakfast.
Thomas hid a smile behind coffee.
Married life did not transform the Bells into perfection.
The boys fought.
Mercy lost her temper.
Thomas became stubborn.
Caleb challenged authority.
Matthew broke a window.
Luke nearly burned the shed experimenting with lamp oil.
Owen stole pie repeatedly despite sophisticated security measures.
Jonah cried the first time Mercy traveled overnight with Thomas because old fear returned.
Mercy sat with him before leaving.
“I’m coming back tomorrow.”
“You promise?”
Mercy hesitated.
Promises mattered.
“I intend to.”
Jonah frowned.
“That’s not promise.”
“No.”
“What if something happens?”
Mercy looked at him.
“That is why I don’t promise things I cannot control.”
He started crying.
She held him.
Then said:
“I can promise that leaving you on purpose without saying goodbye is something I will never do.”
Jonah nodded.
That was enough.
Mercy returned the following afternoon.