Page 6 of One Merciful Moment

"Veil?"

"That's what we call the barrier." He shrugged. "It gets easier, living here."

"I'm not going to live here."

He exhaled, long and slow. "I forgot my past. Forgot how to feel. Forgot everything that mattered, eventually."

"What does that even mean?" She frowned. "I can't stay here. I need out."

He shook his head. "There's no way to send you home. Not unless the storms start again."

Ashley's nose wrinkled. "The storms?"

He waved off her question. If he could keep her focused on the most logical reason she'd shown up here, she wouldn't question the other things that were abnormal to her.

"You can stay with me at the house for now," he said.

"No." She swallowed hard enough that he heard the gulp. "I'll stay in a motel or..." She turned in a circle. "An Airbnb."

"A what?" He scratched his head.

"A rental that'll let me pay per day or week."

"Nothing like that around here." He motioned for her to walk away from the veil. "It'll be safer if you stay with me."

He swept his gaze over her again. The others would pounce on her.

His chest broadened. His pulse kicked. His loneliness pressed in.

Nothing in Everstill was free.

And if she stayed with him, she'd owe him.

Chapter 4

Ashley

––––––––

Boone yanked the mower's starter cord for the third time. Ashley watched him. The machine sputtered, coughed, and fell silent again.

He tried once more.

"It's out of gas." She propped her chin on her upturned knees.

He snapped his head toward her. "I know it's out of gas."

All morning, he'd ignored her after taking her to the barrier again. It was the third morning she'd tried to leave the place she now knew was called Everstill. The moment she failed, she sat on the concrete slab outside the courthouse and watched Boone try to start a lawnmower after dribbling a few drops of gas into the engine.

"It's my job," he muttered. "I mow."

She stood and climbed onto the low concrete half-wall bordering the courthouse steps, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. The morning air was cool and unmoving. There never seemed to be a breeze here. The weather was nothing like at home.

Across the street, people cut behind the restaurant and walked out into the field. Periodically, they bent over. She squinted, trying to make out what they were doing, but the distance blurred the details.

"What are those people doing over there?" she asked.

Boone straightened and looked over his shoulder. His expression shifted, and he stepped away from the mower.