by Sharon Sala
Hope was telling Mercy the story of her second birthday party and the white cake with pink buttercream icing their mother had made, painting a vivid word picture of Mercy as a toddler with both hands full of cake and frosting. She’d cried because Maria had tried to clean her up, and she didn’t want to give up the cake she was holding.
Somewhere between Mercy’s laughter and her mother’s memory, Hope fell asleep. Mercy watched Hope’s eyelids getting heavier, and when her words slurred, Mercy knew the pain pills were taking effect.
Now, watching her sleep gave Mercy the freedom to study her sister’s face. Even though Hope had wounds and scrapes still in the healing stages, Mercy could see their resemblance. It was staggering and a little frightening to realize she had family, and she was understandably leery of giving away a piece of her heart that might not be returned.
The small grandmother clock in the corner of the room ticked away the minutes of Mercy’s life as she watched the flutter of Hope’s eyelids. When her breathing became erratic and her muscles started to twitch, Mercy wondered if she was dreaming of the wreck. When Hope suddenly flinched, Mercy reached for Hope’s hand. “You’re okay,” she said softly.
Hope sighed, and the jerking stopped.
Still holding her sister’s hand, Mercy closed her eyes. Just for a moment. Just while Hope slept.
* * *
Once the dinner dishes were done, Duke headed for the barn to unload some feed sacks, leaving Jack in the house with Hope. When he tiptoed down the hall to check on the sisters, he found the door ajar and peeked in.
The room felt chilly, and they had fallen asleep facing each other. He tiptoed in to cover them up and noticed they were holding hands. He couldn’t imagine what the two must be feeling, but it had to be good. After making sure they would be warm, he closed the door behind him as he left.
* * *
It was almost six o’clock before Lon released Bo Weaver to his wife, Franny. Franny had three kids in tow and was pregnant with their fourth. It would be an understatement to say she was mad. Bo Weaver was subdued and apologetic, and she wasn’t having any of it. She sent him to the car with their children, and then said her piece. “Chief Pittman, I am embarrassed and ashamed it happened at all, but it won’t be happening again.”
“That’s good to hear, but don’t promise something you may not be able to deliver,” Lon said.
“Oh, I’ll deliver on that just like I’ll deliver this baby. Despite his lack of brains, Bo Weaver loves me, even enough to tell his brother to go to hell. He’s already pissed that Joe stole his money while he was passed out. They’ll make up because they’re brothers. But when I say they won’t be drinking together again, that’s what will happen. And I have no doubt Joe’s wife, Theresa, is going to read him the riot act too. We don’t have spare money lying around to bond people out of jail, never mind the fact they had Buzz Higdon’s pigs in the truck. He’s our neighbor, and I will never be able to look that man in the face again. So, we’re leaving, and thank you again for not charging them with theft.”
“That was all on your neighbor. He didn’t want to press charges.”
“Lordy be,” Franny muttered, still shaking her head as she left the building.
Lon watched until they were out of sight then locked the front door and went to the back to tell Larry Bemis, the night dispatcher, that he was going off duty. “Hey, Larry!”
“Yeah, Chief?”
“I’m heading home. Call if you need me. You have two deputies on duty tonight, so here’s hoping for a quiet one for a change.”
“Yes, sir,” Larry said as he popped a handful of M&M candies into his mouth. “You have a good one.”
Lon got in the cruiser and started home. He was ready for this day to be over, but he still needed to stop at the Piggly Wiggly to buy some hamburger meat and buns. It was too cold outside to grill, but he was tired of eating out. He wasn’t much of a cook, but homemade burgers sounded good tonight.
When he pulled into the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly, he immediately thought of Mercy Dane and wondered how her day had fared. If asked, he would not have been able to explain what her presence here meant to him. Their one night together had been as accidental as Mercy walking in on the burglar. But it had truly been the best night of his life. And now she was in his life again, almost within reach. Before, he had a job he loved and a house he slept in. Now, he hoped to keep the job he loved, and maybe find his forever love along with it.
Hopefully, the transition in joining her new family had gone smoothly, although he wouldn’t be surprised if there were fireworks somewhere. She didn’t come across as someone who could be pushed around, and everyone in Blessings knew Duke Talbot was something of a know-it-all.
* * *
Mercy had no idea how life on a farm would play out, but it was certainly the quietest night she’d spent in years. Instead of getting ready to go to work at the Road Warrior Bar, she was in her sister’s house doing the supper dishes.
Jack was helping Hope get settled in for the night, and Duke was in the home office discussing artificial insemination with a prospective buyer—an interesting aspect of farming she’d never considered.
Once she finished cleaning up the kitchen, she prowled through the cabinets, locating where things were kept, and then checked the pantry to see what was on hand for the baking she’d promised. Since some of the basics were missing, she began making a grocery list.
After a while, the muted voices down the hall and the background laughter on a television show no one was watching settled into Mercy’s consciousness. She stopped what she was doing long enough to stretch the tense muscles between her shoulder blades, then laid the list aside and walked onto the back porch.
The quiet was startling, and even though there was a security light between the house and the barns, she wasn’t used to so much darkness. City streets had lights, and businesses had night-lights, even when they were closed. Porch lights were left on in residential areas, and both cop and ambulance lights coming and going were always prevalent. Even though everything here was shockingly quiet, this kind of dark felt ominous, even isolating. She wondered how people got used to the absence of light and sound.
What few stars she saw were mere glimmers of light far above the growing cloud cover. The air smelled clean and damp. She thought it would rain before morning. As she listened, she heard a cow begin to bawl and the answering cry from a calf. Some mama had lost her baby. Poor mama. Poor baby. Even the animal world had issues dealing with loss.
A loose board on the porch squeaked as she walked to the north end and turned her face into the wind. What had been the pasture for a small herd of cattle she’d seen upon her arrival had, tonight, become a study of unrecognizable shapes and shadows.
Today had been life-changing and life-affirming, but she shook as a wave of exhaustion swept through her. She thought of the warm house behind her and the beautiful room awaiting her at the top of the stairs. It was time to go inside. But as she turned her back on the darkness, she was struck by a sudden surge of anxiety—a feeling that she needed to run from—and bolted into the house, frantically locking the door, just as she’d done every night at her apartment in Savannah.
Duke walked into the kitchen as she ran in through the utility room. “Everything okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Just getting a breath of air. It’s going to rain.”
Duke frowned. “Not according to the weatherman.”
“Whatever,” she said, unwilling to get into another difference of opinion with the man. “I’m going to bed. What time does everyone get up?”
“Jack and I are usually out of the house by 8:00 a.m. in the winter.”
“Then I’ll help make breakfast. See you in the morning.”
She was already out of the room before it dawned on him to bid her good night. “Sleep well,” he called, and then heard footste
ps going up the stairs.
He was going through the house locking up and turning on night-lights when he heard the first rumble of thunder, and by the time he got to his first floor bedroom, he could hear rain blowing against the windows.
Well, hell. It appeared, once again, she’d been right.
Chapter 11
Mercy took a hot shower, brushed the tangles out of her hair, and put on her old gray pajamas.
“Oh my God, this feels so good,” she mumbled as she crawled into bed between soft flannel sheets.
She pulled up the covers and fell asleep to the sound of rain hammering upon the roof. She slept in fits and starts of things unseen, and dreamed of a tall, soft-spoken cop with black hair and kind eyes who brought her hot chocolate, and then stood watch in the doorway between her and the unknown.
* * *
Even though Lon had already cleaned up the kitchen, his house still smelled like hamburgers. It began to rain as he carried out the trash, so he ran the last few yards back into the house.
The rain was cold, but it wasn’t supposed to freeze tonight, which was good. Slick roads usually led to accidents and stranded motorists. Hopefully, that would not be the case. He was longing for a night of uninterrupted sleep, so after locking up, he headed to his bedroom to shower. His job was busy, but his personal life was quiet—often empty. He hadn’t had a steady relationship since his early twenties, and now here he was pushing thirty with no personal life at all. He turned on the television in his bedroom just for the company, then stripped and headed for the shower.
It was raining steadily by the time he went to bed, so he turned on the electric blanket, set his alarm for 6:00 a.m., then picked up his phone and sent Mercy a text.
Good night, Lucky.
Then he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. Cradled by the warmth and comfort, he quickly fell asleep and dreamed of a beautiful woman with long legs and black hair, who flew without wings into his arms.
* * *
Back in Savannah at the Road Warrior Bar, the mood was as dark as the weather. Mercy Dane had been gone a week already, and her absence had left a huge and unexpected hole in their world.
When Big Boy came into the bar just after 10:00 p.m., he paused as he always did to scan the bar for Mercy. He’d been so drunk the night she left that he didn’t remember her leaving with the stranger or hearing Moose talk about her not coming back. When he didn’t see her, he yelled out, “Hey, Moose. Where’s the looker?”
“If you mean Mercy, she’s gone.”
Big Boy frowned. “What the hell do you mean, she’s gone?”
“She moved away to live with family,” Moose said. “This isn’t CNN, and I don’t have any updates. Take a seat or get out.”
Pissed that she was gone before he could even get a piece of her, Big Boy took a seat at a table near the back and began to hassle Barb and Farrah instead.
* * *
Ruby Dye heard the rumble of thunder a few minutes before rain began to blow against her windows. She muted the television, grabbed a jacket, and slipped onto the front porch.
The downpour blurred the streetlights in front of her house, while the wind blew rain up beneath the porch and onto the legs of her sweatpants. Even though she shivered against the chill, she loved the rain.
She sat down in the porch swing and pushed off with her toe, then giggled as the motion took her in and out of the blowing raindrops. A loud rumble of thunder rattled the glass in the windows behind her. “You don’t scare me,” she said, and then pulled her knees up beneath her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs.
The lights were already off in the house across the street, and as she sat, she watched two more houses on the block go dark. Tomorrow was a workday for her, but she just wasn’t in the mood to go to bed. There were too many exciting things happening in her life, like having a secret admirer.
She had yet to mention it to the girls at the shop. In fact, she didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. It was shocking and so special that she wanted to keep all the excitement to herself.
A police cruiser turned the corner and slowly drove toward her house. Knowing they were on patrol in her neighborhood made her feel safe. After the cruiser rolled on down the street, Ruby went back into the house, locking the door behind her.
She glanced at the candy dish on her dining room table as she went into the kitchen and shivered. What came next? Even more to the point, was she ready for it?
* * *
Lon Pittman was dreaming of Mercy Dane when his alarm went off, and as his brother used to say, just when he was getting to the good part. He had to admit that she fascinated him on many levels and wondered if she saw him as anything other than a one-night stand—the cop who had tried to arrest her. Still, Lon wasn’t the kind of man to quit on a notion, and he was of a notion to see what would happen if he asked her out.
So the dream was still on his mind as he walked in the back door of the station. He stopped in his office to check messages and then walked up front to greet the day dispatcher, Avery Ames. “Morning, Avery,” Lon said.
Avery looked up then pointed to a large packet at the end of the counter. “Oh, morning, Chief. This came for you. I signed for it.”
“Thanks,” Lon said, and picked up the packet as he left.
He stopped in the break room long enough to pour himself a cup of coffee and grab a doughnut to take to his office. After a bite of doughnut and a quick sip of coffee, he opened the packet and quickly realized it was from the impound site where Hope Talbot’s wrecked car had been towed. There was a brief note from a cop who’d removed the contents left inside the wreck, and an apology. The items should have been returned when the car was deemed totaled by the insurance company, but it had been overlooked.
Lon grinned. Now he had a valid excuse to go to the Talbot residence—to return Hope’s personal belongings. The fact that he would be seeing Mercy again seemed like the universe had just given him the OK to follow his heart. Just to be on the safe side, he called Jack Talbot to let him know he was on the way. The call rang several times, and he was about to leave a voice mail when Jack answered. “Hello.”
“Hello, Jack. Lon Pittman here.”
“Hey, Chief, is everything okay?” Jack asked.
“Yes, everything is fine. I’m calling to give you a heads-up that I’m coming to your place with some of Hope’s things from the wreck. The packet arrived this morning with a note that it had been overlooked earlier.”
“Oh, that’s great. We wondered about her purse…stuff like that.”
“It appears all of that and more are in the package. So you might let her know. I’ll need her to view the contents and sign off on them.”
“Sure thing,” Jack said. “See you soon.”
Lon was smiling when he headed back up front. “Avery, I’ll be at the Talbot farm for a bit. That packet you signed for has Hope Talbot’s belongings from the wreck. I have to get her to sign off on receipt of the property.”
“Yes, sir,” Avery said. “Two deputies are on duty so everything should be covered.”
Satisfied all was well, Lon got the packet, his coffee and doughnut, and headed for his cruiser. The doughnut was gone before he cleared the city limits, and he finished off the coffee about a mile out of town, and he didn’t remember swallowing a bit of it. The only thing on his mind was Mercy Dane.
* * *
Mercy was helping Hope get dressed when they heard Jack come into the house calling Hope’s name.
“We’re in here!” Mercy yelled, then they listened as he came running down the hall.
“He enters the house with such grace, doesn’t he?” Hope said.
Mercy grinned as Jack came to a halt in the doorway. “Hey, honey, Chief Pittman just called. He’s coming out with your things collected from the wreck. He got them this morning.”
“Oh, that’s great,” Hope said. “I expected I would have to replace that stuff. I hope it’s all there.”
Mercy’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t seen his text from last night until she’d awakened this morning and was sorry she’d missed it. Now she was going to see him instead. This was a good day.
“Duke and I are checking fence lines until noon. Mercy, you’ve got this covered, right?”
Brought back to reality by the question, Mercy quickly agreed. “Absolutely, and I’m making dinner at noon.”
“Much appreciated,” Jack said, and then came in long enough to give Hope a quick kiss. “You look beautiful,” he murmured softly.
“Except I don’t,” Hope muttered.
“All of what’s bothering you will soon be gone,” Mercy said.
Jack patted Mercy’s arm in appreciation. “Thanks again,” he said, and left as loudly and abruptly as he had appeared.
Hope smoothed down the back of her hair and then began buttoning up the placket on her shirt. “So, Chief Pittman will probably be here soon,” she said. “Would you mind making a fresh pot of coffee?”
“As soon as I get you settled in the living room,” Mercy said.
“I’m as good as I’m going to look today. Let’s do this,” Hope said.
Mercy settled Hope in the living room, covering her with a well-worn quilt, soft and faded from many years of use. The past week had given Mercy plenty of time to settle in, and every day that passed, she felt more at home.
She started the coffee, made sure there was cream and sugar, and then checked the cookie jar. It was empty. She itched to get her fingers into some homemade cookie dough but still needed to shop. So, they would have coffee minus cookies, and she set three heavy mugs, the cream and sugar, teaspoons, and napkins onto a big serving tray.
“He’s here!” Hope shouted.
Mercy’s pulse jumped as she grabbed a towel to wipe her hands, then hurried back to the living room. As she heard him coming up the steps she regained her sense of calm. And then he knocked, and she opened the door. “Good morning. Come in.”
