Begging for Mercie: THE MERCIE COLLECTION, #2

By Sharon Srock

Scottlyn Rich has overcome tragedy--and moved on. She's now a confident college student and about to celebrate her daughter's first birthday when she receives news that the young man who set her life on its unexpected course has died in prison.

 

Grieving mother Penny Nelson believes there is only one way to assuage her grief--take the baby and raise her. After all, Mercie is all she has left of her son.

Scottlyn didn't draw the battle lines, but she's determined to defend what's hers.

 

Can God find a way to bring peace to both women, or will someone end up begging for Mercie?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Srock
• Release date: Sep 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386358718

Book preview

Chapter 1

D ead?

Scottlyn cringed at Marie's reaction to her news. She looked around the crowded library and motioned for her friend to lower her voice. Yep, almost four months ago.

Oh wow...How?

There was a fight at the prison. The news reports make it sound like he tried to break it up and got stabbed in the process. Bled out before help could get there. Scottlyn shrugged. I haven't really paid a lot of attention. She had plenty to occupy her mind. Taking care of a one-year-old, volunteering at the shelter. She looked at the stack of books on the table. College in the fall. I stay pretty busy.

I bet you're glad, though.

Scottlyn sat back and looked at her friend with wide eyes. Marie, that's a horrible thing to say.

Bradley Nelson raped you. Seems to me that would generate a bit of hate for the person—and glee for the corpse.

Scottlyn stared at her companion. Marie was one of her best friends from Saber High, just back from her first year of college, and obviously out of touch with reality. He gave me Mercie.

Well yeah, but—

Scottlyn Rich?

Scottlyn tucked her long blonde hair behind her ear and looked into the face of a stranger. The man was scarecrow skinny. His black suit hung from his shoulders, his white shirt gapped around a scrawny chicken neck. Yes.

He stretched out his hand, offering her a packet of neatly folded paperwork. Without thought, her hand came up to grasp them. What...?

You've been served.

Served...what...?

You'll find everything you need to know inside, Chicken Neck replied.

The man turned without further explanation, cutting a path around the reading tables and racks of books. The library door slid shut behind him.

That was weird, Marie said.

Scottlyn nodded. Way. She unfolded the papers while Marie looked over her shoulder.

Those look like legal papers.

Scottlyn motioned for her friend to be quiet, reading the top sheet in a whisper. In the matter of Gabe and Penny Nelson, plaintiffs, versus Scottlyn Denise Rich, defendant. We the plaintiffs wish to petition the court regarding custody of the minor child, Mercie Delynn Rich. The rest of the words blurred beneath nerves and fury. Scottlyn's hands shook as she folded the papers.

What is it?

Scottlyn pushed aside the books she'd been studying before Marie's visit interrupted her. She shoved the papers into her bag. Her legs trembled when she stood. I have to go.

What...?

I'll call you. Scottlyn followed the path of Chicken Neck's exit and rushed across the parking lot for her red Rav4. Her hands were trembling so badly she had trouble getting the key inserted into the ignition. Her mind refused to take in what she'd read. And what she had read...surely she'd misunderstood. The five miles between the library and home passed in a haze. She jerked the vehicle to a stop in the driveway, raced up the walk, and barreled through the front door. Diana!

DIANA KENSINGTON, HIGH school teacher, surrogate mother, and honorary grandmother, fastened the tape tabs on a fresh diaper and leaned down to blow a noisy raspberry on Mercie's chubby, bare belly. The baby's laughter bounced off the walls of the room and filled Diana's heart with contentment she'd never known, a level of joy she never expected to be hers.

You're a chunky monkey.

The baby's cornflower blue eyes sparkled with joy as her little hands lifted. Up, Gam.

She gathered the child into her arms and sent up a prayer of thanksgiving. Thank You for giving me such joy. I love you, Miss Mercie. This is going to be the best summer break ever, getting to spend every day at home with you! She looked up when the front door slammed. Scottlyn's urgent call sent her scurrying down the hall with the baby balanced on her hip. One look at the seventeen-year-old's rigid stance and distraught expression brought her up short. Sweetheart, what's wrong?

Diana frowned at the tears glistening in the depths of her blue eyes.

Scottlyn? The teen's gaze zeroed in on her daughter.

Mercie bounced on Diana's hip, tiny hands outstretched. Ma...ma...ma...

Scottlyn exhaled a deep breath, swiped the moisture from her eyes, and retrieved a bundle of papers from the bag hanging on her shoulder. She held them out. Trade you. She handed the papers to Diana and reached for Mercie with trembling hands. Come to Mama, baby girl. Scottlyn bundled the child close and paced to the window overlooking the front yard.

Diana watched as Scottlyn buried her head in Mercie's blonde, Shirley Temple curls, and a tell-tale sniff echoed above the baby's excited welcome home jabbering. She sat and unfolded the papers, spreading them out on her knees. Her own agitation grew with each word she read. When she reached the end of the two page document, she folded the sheets neatly and sat back. The nerve of these people. No wonder Scottlyn was an emotional mess. She studied her adopted daughter. Hadn't the Nelson family brought enough grief into Scottlyn's life? Now they want to take the baby from her? Diana's heart did a free fall to her toes. And me? Jesus, come bring some comfort to this place. Where did you get these?

Scottlyn stared out the window, her answer weary. I was studying at the library, trying to get a head start on some of my college courses. Marie came in, and we were visiting. This guy came up to the table and asked if I was Scottlyn Rich. When I said yes, he handed me those papers and left. A sigh shuddered from her lungs. Do they say what I think they say?

Diana studied Scottlyn's back. Bringing the pregnant teen into her home seventeen months ago had done more than fill the empty rooms of her house. Scottlyn's presence, and now Mercie's, had given Diana something to focus on other than the grief of her husband's death. The months of adjustment had seen a hiccup or two, but the two girls fulfilled Diana's abandoned dreams of a family of her own and gave her a new respect for mothers everywhere. She glanced back down at the legal documents in her hand and welcomed herself to another difficult slice of motherhood. I don't think there's much to misunderstand here.

Scottlyn whirled from the window. Bradley's parents want custody of Mercie? The same people who denied that their son ever laid a finger on me want to claim my daughter as their own? Her chest heaved, and the baby struggled against the steel bands of her mother's arms. Over my dead body.

You need to calm down.

Calm down? Scottlyn's voice was tight with anxiety. They want—

Diana forced the suggested composure into her own voice. What they want and what they get are two different things. She stood and crossed the room. "Let me have the baby before you squish her. It's past her nap time, and I was just about to lay her down. While I do that, why don't you fix a couple of sodas? We'll sit down and see if we can't figure