Free Traces of Mercy by Jr. Michael Landon Page A

off.
    Rand watched her ride away. She sat perfectly on the horse, in command, yet relaxed and natural with his gait.
    “I suppose there’s one good thing that came out of this very odd encounter,” Cora said, tucking her arm through his.
    “What might that be?” Rand asked.
    “An entertaining story, of course,” Cora said.
    Rand shook his head and turned from the sight of the girl on the horse to smile at the girl on his arm. “No one would ever believe it.”

C HAPTER E IGHT
    Mercy saw the cross from a distance—beckoning her back with an indefinable beauty and promises she couldn’t quite grasp. Anytime she was outside with Lucky, whitewashing the orphans’ house, gardening—her eye was drawn time and time again to the simple cross on the roof. It grew larger against the sky the closer she got to the convent. The thought of facing Mother Helena and the rest of the sisters made her feel weary from the inside out.
    She rode Lucky around to the back of the convent, grateful she didn’t see a soul. She took him straight to the corral to see to her basic duties for caring for the horse. She took off the rope and set about brushing him. Methodically rubbing him down, she took her time to make sure the horse felt cared for—loved. Finally, she placed a kiss on his nose.
    “You have a special bond with that horse,” Mother Helena said from somewhere behind her.
    Mercy turned to see her standing against the corral fence, but the nun’s face masked any emotion she might be feeling.
    Mercy nodded. “Yes, Mother. And I’m thankful for it.”
    Mother Helena walked toward her. “I am thankful for it too, Mercy.”
    “Do you think it’s strange I’m more comfortable spending time with him than with people?”
    “I suppose it’s because animals seem to have a way of accepting us just as we are.”
    “Maybe that’s it. I don’t feel as if I’m disappointing him.”
    “You’re not to live your life looking for approval from others, Mercy. It’s only God’s approval that matters.”
    “I’m not having breakfast, lunch, and dinner with God watching me, studying me, commenting on my clothes.”
    “I beg to differ. He is in every part of our day and night here. It’s His approval you must seek—not mine. Not the other sisters’.”
    Mercy ran her hand along Lucky’s nose, then looked at Mother Helena. “I’m sorry I spoke to you the way I did.”
    “Anger can be a tricky thing,” Mother Helena said. “Sometimes it is misplaced, but sometimes it is justified. I’m sorry you felt attacked and judged. That has never been our intention.”
    “I want to keep these clothes,” Mercy said. “But I will put my dress back on.”
    “All right.”
    “And I want you to know I haven’t been stealing food from the larder.”
    “I know.”
    “You do?”
    Mother Helena nodded. “I’ve known for quite some time it’s Sister Agnes.”
    Mercy’s mouth dropped open. “Then why did you accuse me?”
    “I didn’t accuse you, dear. I asked if you had something you wanted to confess. I knew you must have seen Agnes taking the food.”
    “But if you don’t say something to Agnes, she will think she’s getting away with it. She’ll keep doing it, and more food will be gone!”
    “The missing food isn’t nearly as important as Agnes coming to me on her own, without the prompting of discovery. It will help both her conscience and her soul.”
    “What if she doesn’t?”
    “She will. God is working on her heart. I’ll leave the timing of it all to Him.”
    “Just like you do with everything?”
    Mother Helena smiled, and as usual, it took Mercy aback the way it made the nun look so much younger. She could see Helena as a young woman when she smiled. “Yes. Just like I do with everything. ’Tis the only way I can live my life.”
    “I wish I could do that.”
    “You can,” Mother Helena said. “And I will tell you right now it’s not an issue of what you’re wearing. It doesn’t matter if you are