No. It hits me like a bolt of lightning, making me groan inside. Dad has keys and access to the security system since he was helping to build out the house. Never thought he would show up after it was finished without a heads-up. No... Ididn't want him and Mom to know yet.Not until Mercy was ready.
"Thisthingyou lost," he goes on, "wouldn’t happen to be a real pretty lady about 5'5" with black hair and green eyes, huh? Goes by the name of Mercy?"
Dad has Mercy. That doesn't lessen my concern. "Dad, where are you? Where's Mercy? I need her." Roughly, I clear my throat when my voice threatens to crack. "She's... She’s mine. I can't live without her."
His voice softens. "So, that's the way it is, is it? She's your special one?"
"Yeah." He gets it. "Just like you and Mom."
"That's my boy." Fatherly pride fills his voice. "Mom put Mercy in your old room so she could take a quick nap. Poor little thing was crying and starving to death when I found her. Mom and I grabbed some food in town for her since you didn't have anything cooked. You’ve got to take better care of your woman, Amos. She's a keeper, for sure."
Relief battles with shame. She's safe; she didn't get hurt running through the woods. But Mom and Dad are taking care of Mercy in my place. I should be the one doing that. Part of my question is answered, though—she didn’t eat while I was gone. "I know. We...had an argument. Tempers were getting too hot, so I left so we could both calm down. Told her to eat something while I was out."
"That’s no excuse, son. Should have made her something to eat before you took off. You never let your woman go hungry when it’s in your power to feed her. You hear me, boy?" His tone is like steel.
She probably wouldn’t have eaten it, but he’s right. I’ve got to take better care of my sweetMercy, especiallyfood-wise since she has diabetes, starting now. "I hear you, Dad. I hear you. Though I could have done with aheads-up instead of the heart attack I got when I saw the bedroom. Thanks for that, by the way." Sarcasm laces my words.
"It's no more than you deserve, boy," he barks at me. Then he eases up. "But I'm proud of you. Took you long enough. Your mother and I were getting a little worried we wouldn't get any grandchildren before we died."
Children. Mine and Mercy's. My heart—along with my cock—swells. "Soon, Dad. Soon. You both have plenty of years left before worrying about that. And why do you only give me a hard time about it? Connor's old enough to claim a woman, too." My brother hasn't, though. Thirty-four years old and a veritable Dr. Doolittle with the way animals all gravitate toward him.
"You boys beat all I've ever seen," Dad dryly chuckles, "waiting as long as you have."
"But you know you wouldn't have it any other way." I pause a beat and continue. "Let me clean the house up and then I'll head over to pick her up." I don't want her feeling guilty over the mess she made.
"Now wait a minute. Mom’s taken Mercy under her wing and she's notgonnawant to let her go just yet. You'd best plan on spending the next week or two at the ranch with us."
I wasn’t expecting that. Part of me is happy that my parents seem to love Mercy already—as I knew they would—but I don't want to share her when I've barely had any time with her myself. Unfortunately, what Mom says goes. It didn't take her long to get Dad all wrapped around her little finger once she became his. "All right, then. Does Mercy have anything with her or do I need to bring her some clothes and such?"
"No, she just had a little bag. Wasn't big enough to hold but one set, maybe two."
"I'mgonnaget the house back in order and then head on over. Should be there about suppertime, I suppose. Think that'll give Mom enough time with her? That's about as long as I can stay away."
Dad chuckles. "I know the feeling, son. Yeah, by suppertime ought to be plenty long enough. See you in a bit."
When we hang up, I clear all the security push notifications from my phone with a swipe. I can't believe this happened the oneandonlytime I left her alone.
I peruse the room again. My kitten sure did a good job of covering every bit of the floor with our clothes. But time passes quickly as I hang the clothes up, put socks and underwear back in the drawers, and make the bed.
Since we're going to be at the ranch, I pack some comfortable jeans and tees for Mercy. Boots. She'll need boots, too. Her medicine. Toiletries and tampons, for sure. Picking up her stuffed rabbit, I debate whether or not to bring it. It's old and worn with mismatched eyes. Fur matted a little in some spots and missing completely in others.Why does this mean so much to her?
In the end, I gently place it on the bed. If she wants it, she's going to have to come back home to get it. And if she needs hugs while we're at my parents, I'll be the one to give them to her. Not a stuffed animal.
With everything she and I could need for two weeks loaded into the truck, I start theforty-five-minutedrive to reunite with my Mercy. Eighties rock blasts from my speakers as the trees whiz by in a blur. Long winding roads dip and rise to meet the sky. It really is beautiful country out here.
Refreshing and tranquil.
Unlike the gentle interrogation my sweet Mercy is likely undergoing from my mother if she's awake yet. But if anyone can pull any information out of her, it's Corina Shay. And she does it in a way that you don't even realize how much you've told her until it's too late.
I speak from experience. Mom always knew when I was telling lies. Sometimes because I'd painted myself into a corner and had no way out but the truth, but most times my confession spilled out of my mouth uncontrollably as soon as she gave meThe Look.
Over the next rise in the road, the black iron gates to my parents' ranch come into view, the sight familiar and welcoming. The bones of the house have stayed the same, but the inside was completely redone and modernized about seven years ago. Bedrooms were expanded and given bathrooms and the living room nearly tripled in size. I can only hope Mercy grows to love it here as much as I do.
Dad lazily pushes himself off of the porch swing and meets me at the truck, a knowing smile on his face. "She's still sleeping, but go on inside and see your Mercy. I can tell it’s eating at you. I'll bring everything in and put it by the door in a bit."
"Thanks, Dad. Appreciate it." With a quick shoulder clap, I toss him the truck keys and ease inside. Quietly closing the door so it doesn't slam, I—
Whack!
