A Heart Made for Love

by Linda Tillis

  Garth was about to take exception to Edward’s attitude when Eleanor spoke. “Edward, this was to have been Mae’s story. She had prepared herself to share it with you, no matter how difficult it might have been for you to accept.”

  Edward let out a deep sigh. “Look,” he said, as he wiped a hand over his face, “now is not the time for secrets. If there is anything you can tell me that might shed some light on her condition, then I beg you to do so now. I have never loved a woman before. Not the deep, to-the-bone love I have for this woman. Nor have I ever felt so helpless before. I am a damn good doctor, but I have to know what I’m working against here. So, please, if there is something you need to tell me, just do it. We’ll worry about ethics and apologies later.”

  “All right, son, sit down, and I will tell you about the only medical issue Mae has ever experienced.” Garth and Eleanor sat in the window seat, and Edward resumed his seat by the bed.

  “When Mae was seventeen, she was attacked by a group of men. She never saw their faces because they threw something over her head. We don’t know how many there were, but we know she was violated. Your uncle, Doc Walters, treated Mae. She had been beaten. She was knocked unconscious before the rape and had very little memory of the entire event.” Garth paused and looked directly at Edward. The poor man was as white as the sheets on Mae’s bed and had gripped his hands together to stop the trembling.

  “Doc Walters said he believed Mae would heal, physically. After several weeks, we knew there would be no child involved. But it was months before the screams in the middle of the night stopped. I don’t believe the trauma of the event has ever completely left her, and what just happened may have brought too much of it back to her. Her mind may not want to wake up and face it. But this time it could have been worse. Recently, one of the maids was attacked and murdered, and we found out it was probably because she was mistaken for Mae, and Hardwick was probably responsible.”

  Edward’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “No wonder the poor girl carried a pistol all the time.”

  “She wanted to tell you about what had happened to her, Edward, but she did not want to risk losing you. She was afraid you might be repulsed by the idea that not only was she not a virgin but there had been an act of violence involved.” Eleanor laid her head against Garth’s shoulder and pitied Edward. The man looked absolutely broken.

  “You mean she was ashamed to tell me, because she believed I might blame her, don’t you? Good Lord, what kind of man does she think I am?” he cried.

  “No, Edward, she does not think you are the type of man who would blame her. A young woman wants so desperately to be perfect for the man she loves, and Mae could not come to you as a whole woman, but she does have a whole heart, and she has given it all to you, Edward. She wants nothing more than to spend the rest of her life making you happy and proud that you chose her for your wife.”

  Edward dropped his head into both his hands. He had to save Mae from this deep sleep. He had to have the opportunity to tell her how little the event meant to him or to their future. He had to be able to tell her how much he loved her.

  It was midnight. Samuel had gone to town and informed the law, bringing some of the sheriff’s men back with him. Deputy Wilkes had taken charge, and Hardwick’s body and horse had been removed.

  Samuel had stopped at the Finches’ home and told them what had happened and that Edward would be staying until he felt he could leave Mae. Mae’s extended family had all been moved back to their respective homes, since the storm had blown itself out, and they had been assured if there were any changes in her condition they would be notified immediately.

  Martha handed Edward a small bowl of stew and stood over him until he ate every bite. “You’ll need your strength to help the little missy.” She choked back a sob and took the now empty bowl from Edward. “If you be needing anythin’ at all, you just call me, young man.”

  Edward smiled weakly. He listened to her sniffle as she moved down the staircase. There was no doubt; Mae was truly loved. He tenderly touched her cheek. It was a gray, almost waxen color, cool to the touch. Her pupils were still responsive, and her heart rhythm had been steady for hours now. He would just have to be patient.

  Eleanor offered to sit with Mae, but Edward asked them all to just go on to bed and leave her to him. He was aware Samuel was bedded down in the hallway, and he was not about to argue with him.

  Edward turned off the light and left only a large candle burning near the window. He stretched out on the bed beside Mae and laid his left hand gently on her chest to monitor her breathing. The household had finally gone quiet.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  As Edward lay there, he wondered if Mae had any idea how important she was to so many people. Did she comprehend how many lives she had touched in her short time here on earth? Did she know how much he loved and admired her? If she came through this, he would spend the rest of his life making sure she did.

  Edward became aware of a subtle change in Mae’s breathing and realized he must have dozed off. His eyes were drawn to the window seat, where Mae was sitting. Wait! His hand was on Mae’s chest, here, on the bed with him. He rose up on one elbow, blinked his eyes, and realized the image was an older version of Mae. Even as he was telling himself he must be dreaming, the older Mae spoke.

  “You must speak to your heavenly Father if you wish to keep her with you. You must accept it is He, and not you, who has the power to save her.” Even as the voice grew softer, the vision faded away.

  Edward jumped up from the bed and rubbed his face. No, there was no one on the window seat. He was about to laugh at himself, when he became aware of Samuel, standing beside him. Samuel was staring at the window seat. He turned to Edward and said, “You’d better do what she said, or we’ll lose Mae.”

  As Samuel turned to leave, Edward grabbed him by the arm. “Wait, are you saying you heard someone speak?”

  Samuel gave Edward a sad smile. “That wasn’t someone. That was our mother. And if she says you need to pray, then you’d better pray. You remember earlier when I told you something was wrong with Mae? Well, Mama appeared to me just then and told me Mae was in danger. Now is not the time to ask a lot of questions. I don’t know if I would have any answers that would make sense to you anyway. I began to feel Mama’s presence a few months after she passed on. It was odd, but not frightening. I never told anyone because I was just a kid and didn’t know how to explain it. I just walked around knowing she was never far away. The day Mae was attacked was the first time Mama actually spoke to me. She didn’t say why, only saying we needed to go home to help Mae.”

  “We found her bloody clothes on the porch and her broken body in the bed. For now, all you need to know is that Mae needs you to pray. I don’t know what your problem is with the Lord, but now is the time to get it straightened out. I’ll leave now, so you can pray.” Samuel turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Edward was left speechless and a little weak in the knees. He lowered himself slowly to the floor and leaned back against the bed. He remembered his previous conversations with Mae about God. Obviously she was a believer, and her God was important to her. The night he had asked Garth for Mae’s hand, Garth had told him that, in time, he would have to come to terms with God because He was such an important part of Mae’s life.

  Edward stood and returned to the chair by the bed. He reached out and touched Mae’s face. Oh, no! She was warm to the touch, developing a fever. He was even more afraid. There was no outward sign of injury to her body. If she was developing a fever, he had no idea what the root cause might be. He was filled with despair, and he hated himself for giving in to it. Tears burned his tired eyes, and he angrily wiped them away.

  He dropped to his knees beside the bed and looked out the window at the beginnings of dawn in the late summer sky. The night’s blackness had given way to a dark gray. The day would be in full swing in another hour or so. Edward accepted the fact he was just filling his hea
d with trivia to keep from addressing the all-important issue here. Hell, he hadn’t prayed since the day his sisters died, and he didn’t know where to begin. Do I clasp my hands? Do I speak out loud? Just exactly what am I supposed to say? What good will it do anyway? Hadn’t they all prayed for days when his sisters became ill? Where had God been then?

  He laid his head down on the bed. He was exhausted. He was probably delirious. He raised his head, and there, through the window, he could see the morning star. He began to speak. “Good morning, God. It’s me, Edward Finch. Well, I guess you know who I am, right? It’s been a very long time since we’ve spoken, hasn’t it? I remember as a young boy saying my prayers with my sisters. They never missed their nightly prayers. In fact, I guess I haven’t prayed since you took them. Oh, how angry I was when they died. In fact, I remember telling you I hated you for taking them to heaven. It was such a hate it made me decide to become a doctor. So I could save people and keep them from you.”

  Edward shook his head at his own foolishness. He looked again at the star, which was starting to fade with the oncoming daylight. “But I never really saved anyone, did I? You still always had the last word. I just patched folks up, and you made the decision to take them or leave them, right? Well, I’m asking you, God—hell, I’m begging you—please don’t take this woman! This woman has so much love for you and for the world in general. She has made her life a mission for you, God. She has set out to fix the lives of as many women as she can. And it’s working, God. Look at all she has accomplished. And she could do so much more, if you would just let her stay. If you’ll let her stay, I will try to help her do your work. She and I could be such a good team, God. I’m begging you to let me try. Lord, please help me.” Edward wiped tears from his face. “Lord, help me to believe in you again, to have the childlike faith which gave me such joy. Please, Lord. Amen.”

  He rested his forehead on the coverlet. He dropped into a light sleep and was still groggy when wakened by the crowing of a rooster. But he became instantly alert when a soft, sweet voice whispered, “Edward, what are you doing on the floor?”

  Epilogue

  She was marrying her love today. Life with Edward would be every wonderful thing she could imagine.

  Edward had been so strong; he had proven himself as a doctor, a caring man, and the lover every woman dreams of. He had not left her side for two days. He’d finally carried her out to the gardens and held her in his arms while they talked.

  “Mae, I love you. There is nothing I would not do for you. But from this moment on, you must always tell me what is on your mind. There can be no secrets between us. There is nothing in your past that could hinder our future together. If there were some way I could go back and change your past, so that you never had to remember bad things, I would do it. I can’t. But what I can do is promise you that you will never have to face anything alone, for the rest of your life. I will always be there for you. I will be your friend when you need to talk. I will be your strength if you feel weak. I will be the lover who gives you children. I will be the helpmeet for your dreams. If the Lord will allow it, I will be the man you deserve. I will spend the rest of my life by your side.”

  What do you say when a man opens his heart to you in such a way? She smiled through her tears and promised to try to be worthy of the love he was offering. There, in the garden, they prayed together and forged a bond that would last a lifetime.

  But today they would take those vows in front of family and friends.

  She had so much to be grateful for. All her ghosts had been laid. Her past was just that, over and done.

  She had a wonderful, exciting life ahead of her, and a truly great man to share it with. If God chose to bless them with children, she would have all a woman could ask for in this life.

  There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in.”

  It opened, and Garth stepped in. “Lord, child, you take my breath away.”

  Mae reached up and touched her papa’s face.

  “Thank you, Papa, for so many things. But mostly for being the man you are.”

  Garth took her hand and kissed it. “You know, Mae, I could not be giving you away today if I were not absolutely sure Edward was going to love you the way you deserve to be loved, right?”

  “I know, Papa. My heart feels full to overflowing.”

  “Baby girl, it’s because the Lord gave you a heart made for love.”

  If you enjoyed meeting the Hinton family, you won’t want to miss…

  A Man with

  a Pure Heart

  by Linda Tillis

  Sequel to A Heart Made for Love

  Chapter One

  There were three men in the room. That is, three men and a dead woman.

  Two of the men stood stiffly in the corner, just inside the open doorway. The door itself hung askew, held only by the rusted lower hinge. The two men in the corner had been cautioned by their commanding officer not to move, speak, or otherwise disturb the third man. One was there to photograph at the direction of the tall man, and the youngest of the three had been told to be quiet, and to learn.

  The third, a very tall man, knelt by the woman. She was small and completely naked. Long, thick hanks of copper-colored hair covered her face.

  The two in the corner turned questioningly to each other. Was he actually speaking to the woman? It was so soft that neither of the two could make out his words.

  “Tell me where to look, and I’ll find the animal who did this. Give me somewhere to start. Then you can be at peace with the angels,” the man whispered softly, as he gently uncovered her face.

  The photographer didn’t flinch, but the younger man was unable to hold in a shocked gasp. The only recognizable part of the woman’s face was at the corner of her left eye, where two moles were evident. The face had been punched, and punched again and again.

  Samuel Hinton rose to his full six foot five inches and looked slowly around the room. His eyes took in the four walls of the old, abandoned cabin deep in the woods. The broken chair and three-legged table were covered in what was, probably, years of dust. Vines had welcomed themselves in through the long-broken windows, and some had even entered through the rotten flooring.

  Only the dust in the corner where the woman lay had been disturbed. Samuel was careful not to step on the already present prints. The killer would be a large man, he thought to himself. The foot that made those marks would be about the size of his. But it wasn’t really a boot…or shoe, he thought. He could plainly see the outline of his own boot. The killer’s was more of a scuff, or a…moccasin! Ah, a moccasin. He looked at the bruises on the woman’s upper arms. They were larger than even his hands would have made. Yep, he was a big one.

  Samuel stood and spoke to the photographer. “Be sure to get the bruises on her arms.”

  Samuel leaned against the doorframe and stared out through the trees as the photographer set up his equipment. He could hear the tap-tap-tap of a woodpecker somewhere close by. Samuel suddenly pushed off and crossed the clearing. He stopped near the edge of the forest and knelt slowly. The youngest man watched from the doorway as Samuel reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief-sized square of linen. He picked up something from the ground and held it close to his face. Then he placed it in the linen and carefully put it in his pocket. He walked back inside and knelt by the woman; with the thumb of his right hand, he gently raised her upper lip. He lowered the lip, raised her right hand, and looked at the long fingers for a while.

  The younger man cleared his throat, and the photographer shot him a warning look. Samuel turned to him. “Yes, you have a question?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” he stuttered. “Why did you look in her mouth?”

  “Well,” Samuel drawled, “I found a cigarette butt on the ground. It looks like somebody’s been smoking. Her teeth are very white, and her hands have no nicotine stains. If she smoked that cigarette, then it was probably the first one she ever smoked.” As Samuel stood and turned to the door,
the young man spoke again.

  “But why did you take the cigarette, sir?”

  Samuel let out a long sigh. It wasn’t that he minded the questions. He didn’t. He just didn’t feel qualified to be training these boys. Shoot fire, he’d only graduated from Tallahassee’s Police Academy two years ago himself. He felt Captain Lance should have named an older, more experienced man to train these green ones. Two years on the job did not make him an expert. Besides, what Samuel had to share could not be spoken of, or written in a manual. There was no way he could tell them about the feelings that came over him, or the visits from his mama, who had died when he was eight. No one outside his family would understand.

  He turned to the young man again. “If the cigarette is not hers, then it probably belongs to the killer. The tobacco has an unusual aroma, and it might help us locate the man.”

  Samuel could tell when the young man made the mental connection. His eyes widened in surprise, then focused on Samuel in awe.

  Now that, Samuel did mind. Most of what he did was common sense, paying attention to detail and just looking at things with open eyes. He was no one special, just a man who hated violence, especially violence to women.

  A word about the author…

  Linda was born in Goody, Kentucky, in the heart of coal mining country. Her mother moved her to Cleveland, Ohio, when she was a small child. In the summer she ran barefoot on her grandparents’ farm, and during the school year she attended concerts and visited museums. She was able to experience the best of both worlds.

  Her careers have been just as varied. She spent eighteen years in the manufacturing end of the fashion industry, which fed her love of color and style. From there she went on to spend twenty years as a Crime Scene Investigator. This gave her an insider’s perspective on the abuse of women and children.