Page 6 of Stitch's Mercy

“Really?” He scratched the back of his head. “Interesting. So then, what’d you want to ask me?”

I peered behind him to make sure Mercy wasn’t lurking about. We were near the front door. Mrs. Kolter had gone to get her. “I wanted to ask you for your blessing to marry her.”

“Excuse me?” The shock on his face almost made me retreat out of the house. I could tell he probably thought I was insane.

“I want to propose this weekend, sir.” The words shot out of my mouth. “I love her, and I promise to make her happy.”

“And does she love you?”

“I believe so.”

“Strange, because she hasn’t mentioned you.”

“Yes, sir.” Fool or not, I knew without a doubt that Mercy loved me as I loved her. I just had to get her to admit it and accept us.

“What’s going on?” Mercy’s voice came from behind her dad. My moment was lost. Mr. Kolter hadn’t given me his blessing to propose to Mercy. I was an old-fashioned kind of fellow. Her dad’s approval meant everything to me.

“Just chatting.” I took the suitcase out of her hands. “Sir. Ma’am.” I nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Kolter and headed for the door, feeling like a big fat failure.

“Brady?” Mr. Kolter called. “About your question. Yes—”

“Yes, to what?” Mercy looked at me, then at her dad. Her ice-blue eyes ping-ponged, nervously.

“Walleye,” her dad replied quickly, and issued me an approving wink.

“Walleye?” She screwed up her beautiful face. “We’re going ice fishing?”

“It was going to be a surprise.”

“A surprise?” She clearly wasn’t thrilled.

“Yep.” What else was I to say? Her dad was doing his best to not reveal the real question while giving me an answer. Relief washed over me. I could tell Mr. Kolter would be an okay father-in-law.

“Oh…” Mercy seemed to have second thoughts, and I couldn’t let her back out now.

“It’ll be fun.” I nudged her along. “Thank you, sir.”

A heavy sigh from Mercy brought me out of my thoughts.

“Doin’ okay?” I asked her.

“How much longer?”

“Why? Do you have to potty?” I smirked as I tried to break the ice.

She rolled her eyes. “No.”

“It won’t be much longer. Have you been to Lake at the Woods before?” I turned down the radio. We’d been listening to classic rock because Mercy didn’t like Christmas music. There was still a lot I didn’t know about her. The past couple of years, I’d been piecing together snippets of conversations we’d had in between hot and heavy sex. Regardless of how little I knew about her, I was madly in love with the stubborn woman and would do everything and anything to make her mine forever.

But the most important detail I had learned about Mercy was she hated Christmas and wouldn’t tell me why. It made little sense to me. Mercy was a sweet, kind, and caring woman. During the holidays, she acted like she was into Christmas while taking care of her patients, but when they weren’t around, she turned into a grumpy Grinch. Although, another thing I’d learned was how to soften the prickly Christmas-hating woman. Mercy loved lefse slathered in butter and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, like most Norwegians. Last holiday season, I’d watched her gobble up a plate full her mom had given her.

Knowing Mercy’s sweet addiction had prompted me to dig out my mom’s recipe, then Lady M had taught me how to make my family’s favorite Scandinavian treat.

Of course, I’d brought freshly made lefse and cinnamon sugar just for my girl.

“No, never been this far north. What made you buy a cabin up here?” she asked, but avoided looking at me. “It’s so far from home.”

“It’s only four hours away.”

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