Mercy and Jenny usually shared everything, but Mercy didn’t tell her about Hunter’s call or that she had invited him to the church social. Jenny would have preached at her for at least an hour and then prayed out loud for her another hour. Besides, chances were that Hunter wouldn’t even show up.
She and Jenny took their own vehicles that evening, and Mercy was one of the first ones to sit her basket on the long table in the fellowship hall. Chairs had been set up with a center aisle, and Milton, an elderly deacon in the church, was ready to hand out bidding numbers. Jenny came inside with her basket and set it beside Mercy’s, and then made sure that Kyle and Brent both had their bidding numbers ready.
“Bossy, aren’t you?” Mercy said. “They’re grown men. They should know to get a number.”
“I just want to be sure that Brent is ready to bid on your basket. I told him which one was yours. I’m not giving up on you two,” Jenny said.
“Then you are going to be sorely disappointed,” Mercy told her and moved to the other side of the room.
Ernest held the door for a couple of ladies and then went straight to Kyle. He slipped a folded bill into Kyle’s hand when he shook with him, but evidently Brent was on his own, because Ernest didn’t help him out.
“Bless your heart, Ernest,” Mercy muttered.
“Did I hear my name?” He turned around, and almost ran smack into Mercy.
That reminded her of the night before when she’d plowed into Hunter. It didn’t look like he was going to show up, but then she hadn’t given him a time, so maybe he would get there too late to bid anyway.
“Yes,” Mercy finally said. “I saw what you just did.”
“Shhh…” Ernest said. “It’s the same as me bidding on a box supper. The money all goes to the same place so I could just donate it, or I can help Kyle. Those kids are going to need all the help they can get, just startin’ out as missionaries and all.”
“Then double bless your heart.” Mercy smiled.
Jenny walked up and laced her fingers into Kyle’s. “What are y’all talking about?”
“How that I intend to give Brent a run for his money,” Ernest teased. “I’m going to run that bidding up so high, we’ll just see who gets to eat supper with Miss Jenny or Miss Mercy.”
“I brought along my piggy bank.” Kyle grinned.
“Oh, come on, you two.” Jenny giggled. “You are making me blush.”
Ernest turned to Brent. “Who you going to eat with?”
“I’m bidding on Mercy Spenser’s basket.” Brent looked over his shoulder and winked at Mercy.
“Good luck,” Ernest said.
“You are going to need it,” Hunter said.
Mercy recognized his voice and whipped around to look him right in the eye. “Well, hello. I really didn’t think you’d show up here.”
“Here I am,” Hunter said, “and ready to bid.”
“You’ll have to outbid me,” Ernest teased, “and this young man right here.” He pointed toward Brent.
“I brought two whole dollars,” Hunter said. “Think that might be enough. Are we the first ones here or the only ones?”
“First ones, and two dollars won’t even start a bid,” Brent growled.
“When does the bidding begin?” Hunter ignored him and kept his focus on Mercy.
“In about half an hour. The womenfolk will come trailin’ in here in a few minutes with their boxes. Mercy and Jenny volunteered to help get things set things up, so they’re here early. This here is Kyle, Jenny’s fiancé, and this guy”—Ernest pointed toward Brent—“is here to bid on Mercy’s dinner. The auctioneer is supposed to be here soon. Did you just come to bid on the supper and eat with Mercy?”
“I did,” Hunter answered.
“Mercy and I’ve got some more work to do, so we’ll leave you guys to count your pennies.” Jenny grabbed Mercy’s arm and pulled her over toward the lectern where the auctioneer would do his job.
“Who is that man?” Jenny whispered.
“That’s Hunter Wilson, the guy from the cantina. Remember when I went over there and fussed about the noise?” Mercy glanced over her shoulder in time to see Brent glaring at Hunter.
“Oh. My. Goodness!” Jenny gasped. “What’s he doing in Oklahoma?”
“He lives somewhere near Denton, and I ran into him—literally ran right into him—outside the steak house last night,” Mercy explained. “Then he called me and asked me out to dinner, and I told him to…” She paused to catch her breath.
“Come to this event,” Jenny finished for her. “What were you thinking? I was hoping that you and Brent were…”
Mercy threw up a palm. “Get that out of your head. No amount of throwing us together is ever going to make me like him. There are no sparks, no vibes, nothing, zilch.”
Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and raised both eyebrows almost to her hairline. “And there are with that stranger who worked in a cantina that is nothing but a beer joint?”
“No,” Mercy said with a sigh. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Could be.”
“Make up your mind,” Jenny scolded.
“I’m trying to decide when it comes to Hunter,” Mercy told her, “but anything with Brent is not going to happen, so stop pushing. I’m not attracted to him—not one single, solitary bit.”
Jenny took a step forward, stood on her tiptoes, and hugged Mercy. “I just want the best for you, and Brent adores you.”
Mercy wrapped her arms around Jenny and said, “But we have to adore each other, like you and Kyle, for it to work out.”
“That’s sweet of you to say,” Jenny said, “especially after the way you’ve been acting lately.”
Mercy took a step back and pointed toward the door. “Look, more and more people are coming in, and the table is filling up with boxes.”
“This is so exciting!” A smile lit Jenny’s face. “I’m so thankful for the support our church is giving Kyle and me for our mission work.”
“I wasn’t aware this fundraiser was for y’all,” Mercy said.
“Neither was I, until Preacher Don told Kyle earlier today,” Jenny said. “We should go mingle and greet the other ladies.”
“I’m going to make a trip to the bathroom before the bidding starts,” Mercy said.
“See you at home tonight, if not before,” Jenny said with a nod. “Brent might win your basket after all. I’m still going to pray that you change your mind about him. He can be very charming.”
“Ain’t goin’ to happen,” Mercy said, and then headed to the back of the fellowship hall.
“God can make miracles happen,” Jenny called out.
Mercy needed a moment of quiet before the bidding began, so she was glad that she was the only one in the ladies’ room. She wet a paper towel with cold water and held it against her forehead, thankful that she hadn’t bothered with anything other than a little lipstick that evening. She had vowed that she would be nice to Brent if he won her fried chicken supper. She sure didn’t want to ruin the whole evening for Jenny and Kyle, but she didn’t intend to let Brent think there was hope for them either.
She checked her reflection in the floor-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She hadn’t wanted to argue with Jenny again, so she had chosen a multicolored skirt and tucked a blue T-shirt into the waist for the event. She had put on a wide belt with a rhinestone-studded buckle and conchas. That had brought a few aggravated looks from Jenny, but she hadn’t fussed at Mercy.
She was about to open the door when Lisa Payton rushed inside. Lisa taught kindergarten at one of the local elementary schools, and had been flirting with Brent for months. She stopped in her tracks right inside the door and glared at Mercy.
“Hello, Lisa. Who do you hope gets your basket tonight?” Mercy asked.
“I want Brent to win it, but…” She shrugged. “I’ve been in love with him since I was twelve years old, but he’s only got eyes for you. Why don’t you just tell him to get lost so I can have a chance?”
Mercy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Lord only knows how hard I’ve tried. I wish you would flirt with him, just so he would go away.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to date him?” Lisa turned to face the mirror and tucked a strand of red hair up into her messy bun. “He’s funny, cute, and so sweet.”
“No sparks,” Mercy told her, and slipped out the door into the fellowship hall.
There might not be chemistry between her and Brent, but sparks danced around the fellowship hall like fireworks on the Fourth of July when she caught sight of Hunter standing against the far wall. She quickly looked away, but not before she saw him tip his cowboy hat and smile.
“Miss Mercy,” Ernest called across the room. “We’ve been waiting for you so we can start the auction. The auctioneer had a last-minute family emergency, so I’m standing in for him tonight. I understand you are the one who is going to bring the baskets from the table over there”—he pointed with the gavel— “and put them in front of me so folks can see them better. Bring the first one, and let’s get this show on the road.”
Mercy picked up one with a purple bow and pretended that it was so heavy she had trouble carrying it. “Looks like whoever gets to open this box might find a whole pie or cake in it,” she teased.
“You know the rules. The highest bidder gets the basket and the girl for the evening. Let’s get going.” Ernest held up the first basket so everyone could see it. “Purple bow, and I believe I smell a spice cake in here. If I wasn’t the auctioneer, I’d bid on it myself.”
“Five dollars,” a guy from the back of the room yelled. “My granny used to make spice cake at Christmas. I haven’t had one in years.”
Mercy was very aware of Hunter making his way across the room to stand beside her at the end of the long table holding the box dinners. The scent of his cologne—or shaving lotion—wafted over to her. Something woodsy with hints of vanilla and leather. Between that and the way her hormones were screaming, her chest tightened, and her pulse raced.
“I didn’t think you’d show up.” Her voice was so breathy that she hardly recognized it. “I figured an event like this would scare off the proprietor of Sancho’s Cantina.”
“I don’t own the cantina. I was only there for two weeks while the real proprietor of Sancho’s Cantina took his beautiful new bride on a honeymoon to Alaska. Like I told you last night, I’ve got a little spread just over in North Texas and an office in Gainesville. I’m an outdoors person, so I don’t spend much time behind a desk,” he said.
Brent stepped out of the crowd to stand on Mercy’s other side, and whispered, “I intend to win your basket.”
Mercy felt the sting of Lisa’s stares and turned to find her standing right beside Jenny on the other side of the room. She touched Brent on the arm—no vibes, not even a little tiny spark—and whispered, “Lisa Payton has a big crush on you. Why don’t you bid on her basket?”
“Lisa is out of my league,” Brent said with a long sigh. “She could date anyone in the whole church.”
“Maybe so, but she confided in me that she’s liked you since y’all were in middle school,” Mercy told him, and then wondered what he considered her to be—chopped liver?
“Well, how about that,” Brent said and waved across the room.
Both Jenny and Lisa waved back.
“I’m still bidding on your basket,” Brent said and then gave Hunter a dirty look “But if I don’t win it, I will bid on Lisa’s. Are you sure you’re telling me the truth about her, or is this a cruel joke?”
“I’d say from the looks she’s giving you that Mercy is most definitely right about that lady,” Hunter said.
“I’m going to talk to Kyle. He’ll be honest with me,” Brent said.
Mercy laid a hand over her heart. “I’m hurt that you think I would lie to you.”
“After the way you’ve been acting since you came home from our Acala summer vacation, I wouldn’t put it past you,” Brent said.
The bidding stopped at twenty dollars for the first dinner. “Now on to the next one. Hand me another one, Mercy.”
She chose Jenny’s box, hoping that she and Kyle would go on outside and give Lisa some time alone with Brent. Mercy had never played matchmaker, but she was willing to give it her best shot if it meant getting Brent to look at someone else.
“Look at this beautiful box, or maybe I should say basket, since it’s all fancy. I smell chocolate coming from it, and maybe some potato salad. Who’s going to start the bidding? Do I hear five dollars?” Ernest asked.
Mercy went back to her place at the end of the table.
“Do you have history with Brent?” Hunter asked. “I don’t plow in another man’s field.”
“To begin with, I’m not a field, and to end with, I do not belong to anyone,” she said. “Brent, Jenny, Kyle, and I have known each other since college, but believe me, I am not interested in him for any more than barely a friend.”
“Ernest was right. You do speak your mind.” Hunter chuckled.
“Yes, I do,” she replied.
“I’m not complaining.” He raised his hand to bid on Jenny’s basket.
“Don’t bid on that one. It’s Jenny’s, and she wants to share it with her fiancé,” Mercy whispered.
“One hundred dollars,” Milton, the elderly deacon, yelled from the back of the room.
“I’ve got a hundred. Do I hear a hundred and five, just five more,” Ernest rattled off his pitch, but there were no raised hands.
“Sold to Milton James,” Ernest said.
Jenny looked like she would burst into tears, and then Milton made his way through the crowd to the front of the room and handed the basket off to Kyle. “I never was very fond of chocolate, so I’m going to give this to Kyle. I think he’ll enjoy having dinner with his fiancée.”
The whistles, whoops, and applause were probably heard all the way to the fire station down on Main Street.
“That was a sweet thing to do,” Hunter said.
“Yes, it was, but Milton is a good person.” Mercy picked up her basket next and carried it to Ernest.
“I do believe I saw Miss Mercy carry this basket in here. Let’s start the bidding at ten dollars,” Ernest said in his auctioneer’s fast talk.
Jenny and Kyle had made it across the room, but before they went outside, they stopped in front of Mercy. There was no mistaking the expression on Jenny’s face. She was definitely not happy with Mercy even standing beside Hunter, and she would crawl up on her soapbox and do a fair amount of preaching when she and Mercy got back home that evening.
“Brent is flirting with Lisa. You better wake up,” Jenny snapped under her breath.
“Lisa is in love with him. Go play matchmaker with them, and leave me alone,” Mercy whispered.
Jenny set her mouth in a firm line and stared up at Hunter, “Are you going to join our church?”
“No, ma’am,” Hunter answered. “I’m not much of a churchgoer. I just came for the supper.”
The bidding started, and Jenny smiled across the room at Brent.
“Come on, fellers, ten dollars to have supper with the lady who owns this box dinner. Don’t make me drop the bid down to five dollars,” Ernest said.
“Ten dollars,” Brent said.
“Fifteen,” Milton shouted.
Milton was one of the wealthiest men in the church, and he would bid until he won. Then, Mercy had no doubt, he would give the dinner to Brent.
“Twenty,” Brent said.
Lisa gave her a nasty look at the same time.
“I hear twenty…do I hear twenty-five,” the Ernest rattled.
“Fifty,” Hunter yelled.
“Fifty, I’ve got fifty, do I hear fifty-five?”
Silence reigned for a minute while everyone turned to look at Hunter.
“Fifty-five,” Milton yelled.
Mercy could have told Hunter that the church family was a close-knit community and it took a while for newcomers—even those who just came for the fundraiser to be accepted.
“One hundred dollars,” Hunter said.
The room went silent, and folks began to look from Milton to Hunter and then to Brent to see who would win Mercy’s dinner.
“One hundred ten dollars,” Brent yelled.
“Looks like we got a hot item here,” Ernest said. “Do I hear one hundred and twenty… Is it going…going…”
“Five hundred dollars,” Hunter said.
“Did I hear you right, son?” Ernest asked.
“Yes, sir,” Hunter pulled his wallet out and walked to the podium.
“Anyone here want to top that bid?” Ernest glanced over at Brent and then back at Milton.
Both of them shook their heads.
“Then sold to the cowboy!” Ernest said. “And we thank you for your generosity to our missionaries, son,” he said as he took the bills from Hunter’s hand.
“Who have you gotten mixed up with, Mercy?” Jenny hissed.
“I’m not sure. Maybe the Mafia,” Mercy answered.
“Now, can we go wherever it is that we share whatever is in the basket?” Hunter asked.
“I hope you enjoy the supper, and you’d be welcome to join us for Sunday services anytime you are in town,” Ernest said.
“Thank you for the invitation.” Hunter took the box and carried it over to where Mercy was standing.
“Lisa, darlin’, will you take over Mercy’s job?” Ernest said. “Maybe Brent will help you.”
“Sure thing,” Lisa agreed.
“What’s the next step?” Hunter asked. “I noticed that folks were leaving when they won a bid. Do we follow them to a different room?”
“No.” Mercy was a little breathless at Hunter’s bid, a whole lot relieved that she didn’t have to share supper with Brent, and very wary of some guy who could spend five hundred dollars on a woman he hardly knew. “We will pick up a quilt from my car and take it around back to have a picnic under the shade trees.”
“Then I’m glad it’s cooled down a little and that it’s not raining.” Hunter smiled.
“Me too.” Mercy led the way outside, but knowing that she would be sitting on one of her grandmother’s wedding ring quilts with Hunter sure didn’t do much to cool down the heat inside her.
Mercy spread the big quilt out on the other side of the yard from Jenny and Kyle. “Why did you pay so much money for this?”
“Man has to pay for a good supper.” Hunter sat down in the middle of the quilt. “I could tell you didn’t want to share your supper with Brent, and it was pretty evident that the elderly guy was going to run the bid up and then give your dinner to Brent. So, I thought I might win some points with you if I ended the bidding, and, besides, the money is going for a good cause. I hope that’s really fried chicken I smell. It’s my favorite food. Got any potato salad in there?” He opened the box and inhaled deeply.
“Yes, right along with the fried chicken and plates, napkins, spoons, and two glasses for iced tea, but no tequila at a church social.” She pulled out the picnic supplies. “Potato salad, hot rolls, and homemade brownies for dessert.”
“Can I have both legs, or is that the piece you like?” Hunter asked.
“For five hundred dollars, Mr. Wilson, you can eat the whole chicken,” she answered.
He loaded a plastic plate and lounged back at his ease. “My, my, Miss Mercy, did you cook all day?” He put on his best Texas drawl as he scooped a spoonful of food into his mouth. “Why, I just bet all the men in these parts are waiting in line for you to break their hearts.”
“As big as I am, I’d probably break their backs instead of their hearts,” she said.
“You certainly are tall, darlin’,” he said when he’d swallowed a sip of tea.
“I was always the tallest kid in class, and there were only two boys taller than me in our graduating class.” She smiled.
“Don’t let anyone ever put you down for being tall.” Hunter pointed a chicken leg at her. “Being tall is not immoral, and it’s not against the law. And it’s damn sure not a sin.”
“Careful with those cusswords,” Mercy whispered, liking the fact that Hunter was taller than she was—she could probably even wear high heels with him if they ever had a real date.
“Why?” Hunter asked. “We’re not in the church house, so lightning shouldn’t come down and strike me.”
“Because Jenny will come over here, drop down on her knees, and pray for your soul.”
“For real?” Hunter asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Mercy whispered. “She’s prayed for me too many times to count.”
“Why do you live with her?”
“She’s my friend,” Mercy answered.
Brent carried a basket and blanket out while Lisa hung on his arm, looking up into his eyes like he had just hung the moon. He looked like a cornered rat but stopped when he and Lisa were at the edge of Mercy’s quilt.
“Looks like the best man won both of these dinners,” Brent said.
“I believe we did.” Hunter nodded.
“Let’s go over there.” Lisa pointed toward a secluded, shady corner. “It’s nice and private. Did you know that I’m going back to West Texas for Christmas break? I was hoping you’d planned to go also.”
“If I can get the time off work, I would love to go back,” Brent said.
“Now that’s a good match,” Mercy mumbled.
“Yep,” Hunter said. “Maybe there will be a double wedding when your roommate gets married.”
“That would be a wonderful miracle,” Mercy agreed.
Later that evening, Hunter walked Mercy to her car and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I enjoyed this evening very much, but I would still like to take you to dinner next weekend—that is, if I passed the test.”
“What test?” Mercy asked.
“To show you that I’m not a stalker and that I’m serious about getting to know you,” he answered. “If I did, can I have your cell phone number?”
“If you will go to church with me tomorrow morning and sing in the choir, I will consider a date,” Mercy answered. “But give me your phone, and we’ll exchange numbers. I’d rather you didn’t call the landline.”
“You’re a hard woman, Mercy Spenser.” Hunter shook his head seriously. “What time do I pick you up and where do you live? And why don’t you want me to call the house phone?”
“Ten thirty,” she said. “Services start at eleven. We’ll skip Sunday school and just go to morning worship. Jenny has calluses on her knees already from praying for me. If you called the landline, she could overhear our conversations, and she would get on her soapbox—again.”
He handed over his phone. “Again?”
“I’ll hear about this tonight, believe me,” Mercy said.
“Was it worth it?” Hunter asked.
“Yes, it was, and I will remind her that the money you donated will go a long way for the missionary work that she and Kyle will be doing,” Mercy answered. “I live at…” she rattled off the address. “Need me to write it down?”
“No, I can remember that,” he answered. “Ten thirty tomorrow morning, then next week you’re at my mercy for a date. No pun intended.” He whistled all the way to his truck.
Mercy recognized the tune as one of Blake Shelton’s songs, “Honey Bee.” Brent’s eyes had seemed to roam over her body like she was a prize heifer at the county fair and had done nothing but aggravate her. Hunter had made her feel like she was the queen of the whole evening just by a sweet kiss on the cheek.
The words to the song ran through her mind as she drove back to Marietta. In the song, the woman was a honeysuckle and the man a honeybee. She was still humming the tune when she reached the house, but her mood changed when Jenny came out of her bedroom, crossed her arms over her chest, then plopped down on the sofa.
“What have you got to say for yourself?” she demanded. “I suppose you already know that Lisa is beating your time with Brent, and I thought we promised back in our college days that we wouldn’t go out with any more bad boy types after what happened with you and Liam Barton.”
Mercy’s mood dropped into the gutter at the very mention of Liam’s name. A star football player, he had dated Mercy for about two weeks—long enough to talk her into bed a couple of times. Then she found out that she was the subject of a bet he’d made with his team members. If he could bed her in two weeks, then he’d win the money they’d all thrown in a pot. If not, he had to buy the beer for the graduation party.
“I remember.” Mercy went to the freezer and took out a pint of rocky road ice cream. “One or two spoons, and what makes you think Hunter Wilson is a bad boy?”
“Don’t bring a spoon for me.” Jenny shook her head. “I can’t gain a single pound, or Mama’s wedding dress won’t fit me, and, FYI, you don’t need all those calories.”
Mercy opened the container and scooped up a spoonful. “I’m not getting married, so I can eat what I want.”
Jenny scowled. “If you ever get fat as well as tall, you’ll really be a giant, and no guy will ever want to date you.”
“Who are you going to belittle when you get to the mission?” Mercy asked. “I feel sorry for Kyle if he’s on the other end of whatever this is. I’m supposed to be your best friend, and I can’t do one thing right anymore.”
“If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t try to help you.” Jenny pouted. “I just want you to be as happy as I am with Kyle, and I think that Brent could—”
Mercy butted in before she could finish. “I wish you would care less about me and trust me more. I’ll make my own decisions and live with the consequences of them.”
“Okay! Okay!” Jenny’s voice went high and squeaky when she was angry. “Live your own life, but don’t come running to me when it all falls apart. I will say ‘I told you so.’ You’re traveling down a dead-end road to heartbreak just like you did with Liam.”
“I haven’t even been out on a real date with Hunter, but I plan to remedy that next week. And Jenny, it’s my dead-end road, and it’s my heart,” Mercy told her and scooped another bite of ice cream into her mouth.