Finding Mercy

by D. L. Jackson

  “You love me?”

  “Duh.” He shook his head. “How could I not? Did you hear what I just asked you?”

  “You said I drive you crazy.”

  “The best kind of crazy. You’re skirting around my question.” He reached up and stroked her cheek. “I owe you an apology. I just assumed you were trying to get a story.”

  “Don’t apologize yet.” Mercy closed her eyes. “At first I was after an interview. But after I got to know you….”

  He gave a lock of her hair a soft tug. “The thing is, you didn’t. Will told me you quit your job at the station the night before the crash, and I’ve been thinking long and hard since we started walking. I didn’t give you a chance to explain, assuming the worst. I was a drunken ass that night. When you tried to tell me, I thought it was some kind of ploy to manipulate me, but it wasn’t, was it? Was that because you didn’t want to do the story?”

  “I realized some things were more important than standing in front of a camera, and you taught me I didn’t need that to feel like I was doing something important, to be important.”

  Justin leaned closer. “And?”

  “Can we finally kiss and make up, because I’m sick of talking?” Mercy caught her bottom lip in her teeth.

  “Yeah, but first answer my question.”

  “Yes, I’ll move in with you, but we need to talk to my grandfather about this first. It’s his place, and I won’t go against him.”

  “Deal. I planned to anyway. Now about that kiss….” He captured her mouth, sending her world into a spin.

  ***

  “Just let me do the talking.” Mercy squeezed his hand and opened the door to Will’s home. “Gramps?”

  “In here,” he called back from the kitchen. “Making steak and fries.”

  Mercy pulled Justin behind her, stopping at the door.

  Will looked up, smiled and went back to poking his steak. “About time you two come out in the open.”

  “You knew?” Mercy asked.

  “Of course I knew, girl. I’m old, not blind. I saw you hop in his truck that day after church. I thought maybe you were motivated by something else at first, but realized when I seen you floating around all over the place, there could be more to it.” He nodded at the table. “Sit.”

  Mercy and Justin took their seats. Justin’s heart pounded against his ribs and he clenched his hands in his lap. “I like her a lot.”

  “Of course you do. You’re acting as goofy and love-struck as Mercy.”

  “Goofy?” they asked in unison.

  Will cocked a brow. He shook his head and walked over with the steaks, setting them down. “I been around a long time. I know when someone has got the bug.” He speared a T-bone and dropped it on Justin’s plate. He served Mercy another and sat down. “I suppose she told you about the Cooperative?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call me Will. I’ve had a chat with the leaders, and we’d like to invite you to one of our meetings. Doesn’t mean you’re in, but they want to talk to you. A lot of our younger folk have moved away. Would be good to have someone in our ranks who’s had some military training and is young enough to use it. You handled yourself well at that crash. We need medical personnel.”

  “As bad as this sounds, I try every day to forget the time I spent in the army. There are just some things you don’t want to remember.”

  “That’s true. But if you can’t forget, you can always use it to help others.”

  Will lifted his blue gaze from his plate. His eyes held a great deal of intelligence and something Justin hadn’t noticed before—understanding. “I’ve been there. When I was sixteen years old, I enlisted in the Marine Corps by giving them my brother’s birth certificate.” The corner of his mouth curled slightly. “They never did catch on. On D-Day, we hit the beaches in Normandy on the receiving end of a lot of lead and artillery. After the war, I came home, found peace working with my father on this spread. I recognized that look in your eyes when you showed up asking about work, knew why you were here, and understood how healing this land can be. I saw that same look in the mirror over seventy years ago.”

  “So that’s why you hired me to run cattle?”

  “It sure wasn’t your credentials.” He laughed. “I’ve seen better. I have a friend, a fellow Marine, who went up to Alaska looking for peace and gold. Didn’t find the gold, but he ended up working as a forest ranger. It was his way of dealing with what happened that day; coming here was mine. Got my dogs from him. We all did what we had to, so we could move on, and that’s what you’re doing, whether you realize it or not. What did you do in the army, Justin?”

  “I was a combat medic for a light infantry unit with the 10th Mountain Division.”

  Will nodded. “That’s a tough job.”

  “Yeah, it was.” But compared to what Will had seen and done, it now seemed mild. Justin couldn’t imagine what he’d had to do just to function again. It was nice to talk to someone who understood, for once, and not a nurse or doctor who had never been there, in his boots.

  The phone rang. “Excuse me. Nobody calls in the evening unless it’s important.” Will rose from the table and walked over to where it hung on the wall. “Hello. Yes. I’ll let him know. Thanks for the heads up.” He hung up and turned to Justin. “Reporters are in town asking about you and where you might be staying.” He shot Mercy a sharp look. “Seems word got out you’re here. They’re sniffing around the downtown area, and it makes the Cooperative nervous. Won’t be long and someone will tell them where you are to get them out of town. Here’s your chance to make a stand or run. They can’t come on my property, but that won’t stop them from waiting for you to leave the premises or flying one of those damn helicopters overhead, spooking my livestock. What do you want to do?”

  “I’m sick of running.”

  Will nodded. “Then I’ll do my best to keep them away.”

  Chapter Eight

  If someone has a gun and is trying to kill you, it would be reasonable to shoot back with your own gun.

  ~Dalai Lama XIV

  Sure enough, as Will mentioned, it didn’t take long for the reporters to show. But as he’d also stated, he did everything he could to keep them off the property, including turning the dogs loose to roam. The vultures stayed on the other side of the auto-gate, not daring to cross onto the property from the one-lane blacktop road that passed by the ranch. And who would? Bear and Sadie sat sentinel, occasionally growling their displeasure at the unwelcome guests and showing their impressive sets of teeth.

  Justin continued to work, always looking over his shoulder, wondering when someone would ignore the No Trespassing signs to get closer. By the end of the week, he was cranky and had a migraine that wouldn’t go away. He’d yanked his phone out of the wall and kept the curtains in the bunkhouse drawn. In the afternoon, his mail came, and because the postman couldn’t fit it into the mailbox at the end of the road, he drove with a box full of letters and requests for interviews to his doorstep, along with half a dozen of the dumbasses who decided to follow.

  Will had put the dogs in for the mailman, and the reporters had jumped on the opportunity. When Justin opened the door to get the mail, the bulbs started flashing. He threw his hand up to block their shots and grabbed the bag from the mailman, tossing it behind him on the floor.

  “You’ll need to sign for this one. It’s insured with a return receipt requested.” The man handed him a small box from Freewill, and had him sign a receipt on a clipboard.

  “What’s in the box, Sergeant Redway?” some loudmouth asked.

  Wouldn’t they like to know. And it was the only thing the postal worker brought that he cared about. He’d been antsy for a week waiting for it to come. He quickly scrawled his signature. “Thanks.”

  “Not a problem.” He stared at the box, hardly able to believe it had arrived. Two weeks before, he’d called Diamond Heart Jewelry in Freewill and explained what he was looking for. The woman on the other end wrote up hi
s order. She’d been recommended by Will, who told him she made one-of-a-kind artisan jewelry and was a grandniece, his brother Hank’s granddaughter.

  She made pieces that sounded exactly like what he wanted, something unique, like Mercy. The woman took his debit card number over the phone and shipped it to him in the mail, and he was happy she could, as he hadn’t been able to get out to buy it in person. If they’d seen him look at or buy a ring, they’d only get whipped up into a bigger pain in the ass.

  Another reporter took the moment to call out to him. “How does it feel to know you killed everyone in your unit?” Not everyone. Four had lived. He knew what had happened, even if he avoided television and computers. It was hard to ignore something so in your face. And he’d tried. God, he’d tried.

  And then another, as the feeding frenzy commenced. “Did you know what was in the cargo?”

  Yes.

  “Do you have nightmares about that day?”

  “Fuck off!” Justin stepped back and slammed his door.

  Knock, knock, knock. “Have you entered into a romantic relationship with the former news anchor, Mercy Evans? Does she know your father is in prison for bank robbery?”

  “Damned vultures.” Justin leaned against the door and blew out a breath. He tore open the package and extracted the ring. His mouth dropped open. The white gold band looked like a delicate stained glass panel, with inset slices of green beryl and aquamarine. He didn’t have the money for a diamond, and certainly hadn’t expected anything so—amazing, not for what he’d paid. It far outdid a diamond any day, went way beyond his expectations. With a smile, he slipped it in his pocket. The empty box was flung into the unlit fireplace.

  Knock, knock. “Come out and tell us what happened.”

  Enough already. He had special plans for tonight and he wasn’t going to let them screw them up. He closed his eyes and counted backward. When he reached one, he planned to open the door and tell them to get the hell off the property before he called the police—even though he couldn’t, because he’d disabled his only line out. They couldn’t know he was bluffing, and the sheriff wouldn’t have a problem running them off if Will called him, which would eventually happen.

  The sheriff wasn’t crazy about all the reporters lurking around Evans Point and had made them uncomfortable since they’d arrived. In fact, he’d made it his mission to run them out of town. Justin rather liked the grumpy sheriff. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six….

  Bang!

  Justin threw his body to the floor and covered his head with his hands. Bright lights flashed before his eyes.

  Take cover! The sounds of jets filled the early morning sky and the smells of burned flesh, blood, and gunpowder clogged his nostrils. Screaming. Explosions. Dirt and rocks flew everywhere. Get away from the convoy!

  “Now that I have your attention, you’re trespassing on private property. The sheriff is on the way. You might recognize him from when you received your speeding tickets, parking tickets, and the tickets you got for jaywalking or looking at him cross-eyed. That’s a hint that he doesn’t like you. You have twenty minutes until he gets here. I suggest you use them to get off my land.”

  Justin pulled his hands away and lifted his face. “Mercy?” He blinked, clearing away the bloody memory and catching his breath.

  The door opened and she stepped inside, leaning a shotgun against the front door. “You had quite the mob out there. I had to fire the shotgun in the air just to get their attention.” She looked at him and set down a messenger bag she’d carried over her shoulder. “You okay?”

  Justin climbed to his feet. “Loud noises make me jump. First instinct when I hear gunfire is to drop and cover.”

  “Sorry, if I had known—”

  “No, don’t apologize. Are they gone?” He headed for his kitchen, unable to sit still with the adrenaline running through his veins. His hands shook. His nerves were shot. If he had booze in the house, he’d be hitting it hard. Keep busy. You’re not going to fall into that trap again.

  She pulled the curtain back and peeked. “Almost. They’ve moved back to the road.”

  He paced around the kitchen, yanking food out of the cupboards, slamming things down, not sure what he was going to cook, only that he needed to do something. He filled a pot with water, tossed it on the stove, and fired up the burner. He hadn’t been able to go out for his early morning rides since they’d shown. They never slept, and so, neither did he. His paradise had become a nightmare he couldn’t escape from, complete with wardens.

  Mercy came up behind him and hugged him while he stared at the pan of water on the stove. “It won’t boil if you watch it.”

  “What?” He turned his face and frowned. The exhaustion from a week of hell sank into his bones. He felt so weary. Justin reached up and shoved a hand into his hair and exhaled. Damn, my head hurts.

  “Why don’t you lie down on the couch? I’ll finish up in here, make you something to eat.”

  Justin swung around and leaned against the counter, pulling her into his arms. “I can’t do this. I can’t take all the people asking questions. They have a fucking bullhorn, Mercy. And today, while I was headed to the north pasture, another helicopter flew overhead. My horse spooked and damn near dumped me. And that wasn’t the only one. There are two of them up there, stalking me. One of pricks by the front gate even offered me a million for my story. Can’t they see I don’t want to talk to them? Even for a million? I want them to leave me alone. I don’t want to think about that day.”

  She sighed.

  That sound. She wanted to say something but wouldn’t. He’d come to know her well in the last few months, and keeping her mouth shut wasn’t easy. For the first time since he’d met her, she remained quiet. “What are you not saying?”

  “What makes you think I’m not saying something?”

  “That look on your face, like you’re in pain. It’s killing you not to open your mouth, so spit it out. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “You won’t like what I have to say, so I choose not to voice my thoughts.”

  He raised a brow. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  “Okay then.” She pulled out of his hold, stepped back, and pulled her boots off. She unbuttoned her jeans and wiggled them down her hips, kicking them away as they hit the floor. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She crossed her arms and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it over beside her jeans.

  “What are you doing?” Justin cocked a brow, waiting for some explanation, anything to confirm she hadn’t lost her mind. The sheriff was coming, if he hadn’t misheard her, and they had less than twenty minutes before he arrived and wanted their statements. Not a good time to get frisky. Besides, he couldn’t seriously ask her the question with her naked like that. It wasn’t that he wasn’t nervous enough already. The ring sat in his pocket, impossible to ignore. Justin resisted the urge to pull it out. The moment needed to be perfect. Now was not that moment.

  He wanted to do it during a romantic evening, but the reporters were driving him crazy and ruining his plans. “Are you sure you should be…?”

  “You know how they say when you give a public speech, if you picture the audience naked, it’s easier?”

  “I don’t think they meant literally. I’m not giving a public speech, and you hardly make an audience.”

  “No, you’re going to do an interview. The only way to get them to stop is give them what they want—and what they want is to hear your story.” She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, shrugging out of it. She grinned and threw it at him. “You better sit down and start talking. The sheriff will be here soon, and you don’t want him to see me like this.”

  Yeah, the last thing he wanted was for another man to see his woman naked. Justin wiped his palms on his jeans. Especially that man. Good-looking, close to their age, and competition until he had that ring on her finger.

  She grabbed a video recorder out of her bag and pointed it at him. A red light came on. “Okay, sta
rt from the beginning.”

  “It’s damned hard with your tits staring at me.”

  “I’m recording,” she said in a sing-songy voice.

  “Right.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “At the beginning.” She straddled a kitchen chair backward and sank to sit. Her chest was now hidden behind a violin-shaped piece of wood. Mercy leaned forward and rested her arms on the back to brace the camera.

  “Okay.” He blew out a breath and focused at a point over her shoulder. She was right. This would stop the reporters. It needed to be done, and she’d offered him freedom and the opportunity to get on with the rest of his life. If everything went the way it was supposed to, it would be with Mercy. That was, if she still liked him after she heard his story.

  “When I was six my mother ran off. I guess she’d decided a family wasn’t for her. It was just my father and me after that.” Justin shifted in the kitchen chair. “He claimed to believe in God and read me the Bible in the morning before he’d send me off to this private school.” He swallowed and closed his eyes. Justin paused, opened them again, and locked gazes with Mercy. She nodded, letting him know it was okay to continue.

  “Then he’d go out and rob banks up and down the East Coast. He got away with it for a few years, but eventually the FBI caught up to him and he went away. He’s still there, but I don’t talk to him.”

  “About how old were you?”

  “Ten or eleven. My life seems foggy at that time. What I do remember is bouncing from foster home to foster home. Eventually I ended up in a boy’s home for troubled teenagers. During the summers they’d send us out to work for dairy farmers. They claimed it helped to build life skills and gave us a purpose, keeping us busy and out of trouble.”

  “And this is why you chose to work on a ranch?”

  “It was the only time in my life when I’d had peace. I joined the army out of high school. I didn’t have a job or a home after I graduated, and it seemed like the logical thing to do at the time.