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MERCY
He called me Red. Three silly letters, that’s all it takes to bring the foolish girl who once lived and breathed Frank Kingston back to life. All the work I did, the years I spent, trying to forget her, trying to forget him, gone, just like that.
“I’m glad you brought old Buck with you. I wouldn’t have managed half as well without her,” I say, patting the old mare’s neck. “She really still kick her heels up like she used to?”
He smirks. “Better believe it. And no one can ride it out either. Everyone who tries gets bucked or bails. She still puts on quite the show when she feels like it.”
I smile, thinking back to when Frank first bought her at auction. She was beautiful, still is. Her breeding was spectacular, and Frank’s dad was certain they’d gotten her for steal. Then, they rode her. Well, tried to. Didn’t matter who took the saddle, she sent everyone flying sooner or later. She was sneaky too. One minute she’d be cool as a cucumber, just walking along, then, bam—she’d kick up and start off running, bucking as she went. Wasn’t long before Frank was the only one who’d still get on her. I think he liked it, the way she kept him on his toes.
What on God’s green Earth possessed me to ever get on her, I don’t know. Maybe it was just how Frank loved her that made me want to get to know her up close and personal. Or maybe I just wanted in on the rodeo action she was offering to anyone who wanted to play. Either way, I rode her. Took it slow with her. And braced myself for the moment she’d turn on me. Except it never came. To this day, the mare’s never bucked me, not so much as a cow kick at my expense. Frank always teased me, saying she could smell my fear and took pity on me, but I don’t think that’s what it was. Much as she gives Frank a hard time, she loves him, and, once upon a time, he loved me. And I think that’s the real reason she always showed me such kindness and grace.
My mind is still wandering among my memories as we make our walk back inside the main building. It’s not until we step inside that past and present collide, and reality comes crashing in on me.
“Mer!” I look up just in time to see him coming toward me, arms stretched out as he scoops me into a tight hug. “I was so worried. What were you thinking going out there?”
“Chase,” I stumble over my own thoughts, trying to form a greeting I can say out loud. “What are you doing here?” He’s still clutching me tightly to him, but I can see just enough past his shoulder to make out the back of Frank’s head as he keeps walking. At least there’s one awkward conversation I won’t have to have right this minute.
“I called your phone to check on you and some strange woman answered. Said you’d gone out on horseback on some sort of search and rescue mission.” Finally, he releases me enough for me to meet him face to face. “I was crazy with worry, babe.”
“And so you jumped on a plane to Louisiana?” I joke, or, I sound like I’m joking. Clearly, that’s seriously what happened. I kind of wish I hadn’t left my purse and shoes behind when I left to join the ride. Or, at the very least, that I’d had the foresight to turn my phone off. I forgot how no one knows how to mind their own business around here.
I love Chase, but having him here, smack in my old life when he’s so clearly my new life, is weird and my brain is struggling to compute it all. Especially given the day it’s been, and the twenty-four hours before that. I’m fried, and this, it’s way beyond my mental capabilities right now.
“I’m just glad flights opened up again so fast. I never should have let you go without me in the first place. I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive from the start, Mer.” He turns his head to take in all that surrounds us. “This, this is serious stuff.
I nod, too perplexed by his delayed revelation to say much of anything.
Then, his nose twitches. “Also, what is that smell?”
I lift my arm to my face and have a whiff of my sleeve. “Yeah, that’s me. Took a swim in some swampy water this afternoon.”
His face distorts in disgust. “Why?”
For a split second, I have to fight back a laugh, then I get ahold of myself and remember how out of his element Chase is and how big of a deal it is that he would come here for me. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, it wasn’t my first choice either.” I scan the hall for signs to a bathroom. I could use some running water and a little soap. “I’m going to see if I can get cleaned up a bit.” I point down the hall to the sign marked for food and an arrow pointing right. “Why don’t you see if you can score us some dinner? I’m starving.” I smile at him, trying to convey my appreciation. I’d kiss him, but I get the sense he’d rather I didn’t until I’m clean again.
“Absolutely. Food. I’m on it.” He gives me a thumbs up and a wide grin. I think he may be even more uncomfortable than I am, and I can still feel the swish of wet straw in my left pant leg, so that’s really saying something.
I watch as he hurries off in search of dinner, silently wondering what he’ll make of the food they’re likely offering here tonight. Chances are, there will only be a few things on the menu he recognizes or has even heard of.
A long, tired breath escapes my chest, and I drag my feet slowly onward in search of a restroom.
The first two I pass are fully occupied. The third is out of order—the women’s, at least. At this point, I’ve lost interest in propriety and turn toward the opposite door pushing my way into the men’s room.
“You forget how to read signs since you been gone?” Frank’s voice echoes through the otherwise deserted restroom. He’s standing at the corner sink. Face wet and shirtless.
Good God almighty, I’ll never recover from the sight of him. Flawless tan and rippling muscle. All the things I used to appreciate in the teenage version have gone and multiplied. It’s not fair. Not at all.
“I struck out three times trying to follow the sexist bathroom rules. Figured it was either be a rebel or smell of swamp forever.” I drop my gaze and move for the nearest sink. Pretty sure I’m blushing after mentally comparing his current abs to the ones I used to rest my hand on anytime I was close enough to do so.
“Can’t smell like swamp with your big city boyfriend here, can you,” he says dryly, turning on the water and letting it run over his hands before raking his fingers through his thick, unruly hair. If he has even the slightest clue of the effect he’s having on me, he’s not showing it. Thank God.
“Can’t say he was impressed with the odor,” I mutter, turning the faucet and forcing my focus to stay on the gush of water bursting from it. I wait a second to let it run warm before I scoop some into my palms and start to wash my face. “Also, I’m sorry about your pants. And your hoodie.” I glance down at my feet and the sneakers I stole. “And Esther’s shoes.”
He doesn’t even look. “Not Esther’s.”
Temporarily stumped, I freeze up. Then, I start to understand. “Oh. Right.” Of course, Esther wouldn’t be the only woman in his life. “Well, tell your girl I’m sorry and I owe her new sneakers.”
He just shrugs. “Don’t think anyone’s worrying about shoes and hoodies right now.”
I bite my lip just to keep from saying anything else. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. Probably laughing at himself for ever finding me remotely of interest. Which is precisely what I should be feeling regarding him. But time has made old hurts fade and the person standing here, in the present with me, almost seems disconnected from the transgressions of his former self. But he’s not. And I would do well to remember.
The water stops flowing at his sink and I can hear him take steps in my direction. Still, I keep my eyes on my own sink and focus on getting washed as much as I can, while fully clothed and in the company of a man who, despite my every intention to know better by now, still makes my every thought dissolve just by being present.
I can feel him standing right beside me and my gaze shifts just enough to assess his position. He’s standing sideways, hip leaning on the sink next to mine, facing in my direction. I swallow down the million and one snappy things I want to say right now, because he’ll know, he’ll call me out for my nerves and make me feel even more foolish than I already do. Instead, I redirect my mind to Chase. Sweet, supportive, wonderful Chase, who took a flight on a moment’s notice just to make sure I was safe. Unlike Frank, who never took a plane to see me for any occasion, under any circumstances.
“Thinking hateful thoughts?” his deep voice rumbles through my inner rantings.
“No. On the contrary,” I say haughtily, “I was thinking how sweet Chase is for coming all the way out here just to check on me.”
He chuckles. “Liar.”
I twist the knob of the faucet and the water stops abruptly. “I am not. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Then how come your mouth was all tight and twitchy?”
“I think the more important question, is why are you looking at my mouth?”
He smirks. “It talks even when you don’t. Usually has more interesting things to say.”
I huff indignantly. “You’re a jackass, Frank Kingston.”
He nods, a grin still moving over his full lips as he tips his chin down toward his chest as though he’s stalling for time before he responds. When he does, it’s not at all what I expect.
“My dad said he’d ride out to The Rose with you come morning. I know you’re eager to go out and see her for yourself. You can take Buck out again. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have more time with you.” Then he flings his shirt over his shoulder and walks out without saying another word or so much as glancing in my direction.
“Thanks,” I mumble, but the door’s already swung shut behind him.
I take what limited window of privacy I have and quickly strip down to my underwear in hopes of removing at least the initial layers of grunge and grossness stuck to my skin. Wet paper towels don’t make for good washcloths, but I don’t have the energy or the mental wherewithal to dwell on it.
I’m almost down to my thighs with my efforts, when I hear the door swing open behind me, and scramble to cover up.
“Well, hot damn.” He lets out a loud whistle to follow it up. “Wasn’t excepting a show in here.”
It’s Wade. Thank God.
I roll my eyes and put my damp, smelly clothes back to where they were draped over the spare sink, airing out. “You scared me,” I scold him, “I thought you were...Well, anyone other than you would have sucked.”
He laughs, heading straight for the urinal as if I’m not even present. “I’m so honored,” he mocks as I hear him unzip.
My mouth twists up, and I turn on my water again just to drown out the sounds he’s about to make over there. “I think that weekend we went camping together in high school really broke us.” I shake my head at his reflection in the mirror above my sink. “It’s like all concept of boundaries was wiped out, never to be reestablished again.”
He grabs the lever to flush and shrugs. “A lot of alcohol will do that.”
The one and only time in my life I attempted to drink away my problems. It had seemed like a good plan at the time. Wade and I were both upset, both eager to stick it to our significant others. Taking off for the weekend and dropping off the radar with enough booze to get an elephant wasted seemed like a great idea to the both of us. Only we came back hungover, still hurt, and with the added benefit of having seen each other under such unflattering circumstances, nothing will ever be out of bounds between us again.
Wade washes his hands one sink over as though it’s the most normal thing in the world to be standing next to me while I’m in my underwear attempting to bathe myself with soggy paper which is starting to dissolve and stick to me in all the most unfortunate places. Like the back of my knee.
“So,” he starts, and I get the sense we’re moving on to other topics. “As boundaries aren’t an issue, what’s the story with your boy in the fancy loafers?”
“Chase is hardly a boy,” I snort. “And the story is, he makes me happy.”
“Yeah?” He dries his hands on his pants and I can’t help but think how washing them was pointless after that. “That’s a short story.”
I tug at the paper towel dispenser and pull out several dry sheets. I’m as clean as I’m going to get here tonight. “It’s not short, it’s uncomplicated.”
Wade chuckles as he starts for the door.
“What’s so funny about that?” I demand before he has a chance to walk out on our conversation, leaving me guessing.
“Uncomplicated,” he says, his hand clasping the door handle. “If you ask me, it’s just another word for boring.”
Then he leaves, and I’m sorry I ever demanded to know.
––––––––
FRANK
“There you are,” Camden wisps as her fingers trace across my shoulders, her body curling around to face me. “Was starting to think you were hiding from me.”
“Don’t be silly,” I tease her, “can’t hide from anyone when the entire town is stuck inside one building.”
She pulls back, her eyes squinting at me. “Are you saying you would, though, if you could?”
I sigh. The day has been too long and strange to play anymore games tonight. “Camden, what’s going on?”
Her hand drops from where it’s been resting on my shoulder, down to her side. Then, she seems to rethink her position and crosses both arms over her chest instead. “Mercy Rose. I know she rode out with you and Wade today.”
I should have known. “So? There were at least a dozen of us.”
She frowns and I can tell she’s struggling to look concerned when what she really is, is frustrated. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, you spending time with her. She has a boyfriend, you know. He’s here.”
I nod. “I do know. Saw him when we got back.” I sidestep to get around her and busy myself with the maps still laid out on the table from earlier. We didn’t cover near as much ground today as I’d hoped.
“And you’re saying you’re okay with all of it. Her here. With him. Doesn’t bother you at all?” she probes.
“I’m saying it’s been over a decade, Cam. We’ve all moved on. It would bother me if we hadn’t.” Maybe there were moments this afternoon, when time stood still, rewound itself even, but it’s caught up to present events again, and I can see clearly what the dim of memories was trying to hide. We grew up. And became exactly who I knew we would.
“Well, alright then,” she simpers, moving in beside me, her arm hooking into mine. “I saved you some dinner. Why don’t you come with me, let me heat it up for you? The maps can wait. Won’t be going anywhere ‘til daylight anyway.”
Food is the last thing on my mind. But Camden will no doubt continue talking from now until I pass out, and her thoughts, petty and trivial as they so often are, will still serve me better than my own tonight.