Any event resulting in a call from the sheriff counted as shenanigans. So we were screwed.
Pru took her seat, wiping dirt from her arms and legs. “I dropped my coffee.”
Dad nodded. “Mm-hmm. How’s your arm?”
She removed the towel. Tiny dots of blood rose to the surface. “I’ve had worse.”
Dad cringed. “Someday when the sheriff calls you to say your daughters were involved in a street fight…” He exhaled deeply and lifted a hand, canceling his lecture. Pleading eyes searched Pru. “What happened? You asked to go for coffee.”
I moved behind her chair. “We were on our way home with coffee when Mark came around the corner and picked a fight with us.”
“Why?”
Pru scoffed. “We didn’t say or do anything, if that’s what you mean. He’s a freaking psychopath, like his brother.” She rubbed her elbow and swiped a tear off her cheek. “We get verbally and physically attacked by a guy and you ask us what we did? What did we do to instigate it? Why can’t he just be a lunatic? No provocation required.”
Dad stiffened. “I didn’t mean to insinuate.”
Pru shoved her chair into me. “Well, you did. I don’t want to talk anymore.” She stormed upstairs and slammed her closet door half a dozen times. Her sobs drifted into the kitchen.
Dad rubbed his eyes. “The irony is how hard I’m trying and I still screw up.”
I slid into Pru’s empty seat. Time for a reality check. Sheriff Dobbs and Dad were close, but today was the last day I’d put up with the abuse. I wouldn’t let Mark continue the tradition with Pru. “Mark Dobbs has bullied and verbally battered me for three years. He slanders Faith’s and our entire family’s name every time he sees me, and I don’t know why. I think he blames us for the impact her death had on his family.”
Dad’s gaze drifted to my scars. “You never told me.”
I rolled my arm over so he could see the cuts, and I braced for his touch. I hid the other hand beneath the table. “I didn’t tell you a lot of things because I wanted to be miserable. I lived for the despair.”
Dad put his hands in his lap. “Mercy.”
“Don’t. It’s over. I finally accept that they’re gone, that it wasn’t my fault and none of it can be changed, but starting over is tougher than I expected.”
His lips raised in a cautious half smile. “And the hair?”
“Fresh start. Time for a change.”
I tucked my scarred arm under the table with the henna hand. “I think Pru’s humiliated more than hurt. It was scary. Mark and Brady have problems. Sheriff Dobbs took them home.”
Dad leaned his elbows on the table. “Are you hurt?”
My wrists burned from Brady’s angry touch. I rubbed the swollen skin under the table. “I’m fine.”
“Do you know the other two boys? The ones the Dobbs boys fought with?”
My gaze dropped to the table. “Yes, sir.” Worry for Cross tightened my tummy. “Anton Lovell and Cr—Will Morris.”
“They’re with the sideshow. Is that why the Dobbs boys laid into them? I’m still unclear how the Lovells got involved.”
“They were inside Red’s. I guess they heard Brady screaming at me. They tried to stop Brady, but Mark jumped in. Pru and I fell down and the guys fought until the police came.”
Dad frowned. “Does everyone drink before lunch in this town?” He hung his head in defeat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. Again.”
Goose bumps rose on my skin. “Dad. You’re trying now. That’s what counts. You know who told me that?”
He raised a weary brow.
“Pru.” I smiled.
Dad laughed. “She’s surely something.” He stretched to his feet. “I owe her an apology. Those Lovells look like knights in white armor to you right now, but the rules remain. No contact with any of them. Stay away from the campgrounds, the river, and the festival next weekend.”
I blinked through tears. “They weren’t inside the bar getting drunk, Dad. Why do you assume the worst about an entire group of people? You base your judgment on your unfounded suspicions.”
His face turned red. “I know what I’m talking about.”
“No, you don’t. You taught me not to judge and look at what you’re doing. Look at us, Dad. Look how messed up we are. How can we say anything about anyone else?”
“This conversation is over. You don’t have to agree with me, but you do have to obey the rules.”
I slammed my hands onto the table. “The younger one, Will, is a songwriter. He was meeting with Red’s owner about an event Saturday night. He’s talented and has a future. He’s not even a Lovell. Not everyone in their show is related, you know? Wait. You don’t know because you don’t care. It’s easier if you classify them as one big evil group.”
Dad huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Mercy, I don’t know how you know so much about them, but I’m telling you now, you’ll regret any time you invest in those people. They’re dangerous. You’re too young and naive to see through it, but I’m not. It’s no coincidence that girl was attacked a hundred yards from their campsite. Don’t be a fool.”
He took two steps toward the stairs and stopped, without looking back. “If you want to survive long enough to attend college, you’ll obey me on this.”
The venom in his tone burned through me like poison. How could I rebuild a relationship with him when he kept pushing me away?
* * * *
Thanks to a town on high alert, I hadn’t seen Cross for days. After a public fight with the sheriff’s sons, the Lovells were in the spotlight and Dad had refused to back off.
While Pru and I were lectured on avoidance and other precautionary behaviors to thwart Lovell attacks, Cross had sat in an empty room at the police station for three hours. No one questioned them. No one spoke to them. He and Anton were basically given big-boy timeouts as a reminder of which way power flowed in our town until Cross demanded to be arrested or released. If they’d underestimated the town’s hostility toward them before, they understood now.
Lucky for me, the carnival had arrived on Friday. The River Festival ran from Monday to Sunday. Workers had set up the festival perimeter all afternoon on Saturday, erecting stages and placing ride trucks. Dad and his posse were on duty. The men had set up a schedule for staking out the perimeter between St. Mary’s Campground and the River Festival site in case of hooligans and troublemakers. When he’d left at dark, Dad had a giant black flashlight hooked in the loops of his outdated painter pants, courtesy of Sheriff Dobbs.
Pru slid a flat iron through my silky hair and smiled. “Maybe I should go to beauty school.” She set the iron aside and admired her work.
My phone buzzed with a text from Anton.
“Get here soon or I’m coming for you.”
Pru swiped the phone from my palm. “Can’t rush perfection — P”
“Fine, but you won’t want to miss this.”
I braided a band around the crown of my head and tucked long bangs behind my ear, while Pru beamed. She’d painted tiny crosses on my thumbnails and layered on the makeup until I looked like an after picture, minus the Photoshop. The soft material of my sundress danced across my thighs when I spun to check the laces in the back. Brown leather boots completed the ultra-cute look. A sudden thought inflated my smile. “You’re an artist.”
Pru swiped lip gloss across her lips and smacked them together. “Uh-uh.”
“Yeah. You are. Look at me tonight. Look at you always. You treat people like Faith treated sketch paper. You’re really good at it, Pru. Why stop at beauty school? You can create makeup, invent your own line of nail polish. You can design clothes or work in the wardrobe department at a Hollywood studio.”
She made a crazy face. “What have you done with my sister? You remember, the girl who refused to wear nice jeans like two weeks ago?”
I smiled until both cheeks hurt. “That was a mistake. I h
ad no idea what I was missing.”
Pru locked arms with me and looked at our reflections in the mirror. “Well, if we don’t get to Red’s soon, you’re going to miss a whole lot more than good jeans.”
We speed walked to Red’s, sticking to the shadows as much as possible until Main Street and then made a dash for the door. Nerves roiled in me. This was it. Cross’s last competition. The carnival was setting up. In a few days, the Lovells would perform, pack up, and head out of town.
I didn’t know any more about the night of Faith’s death than I had when they arrived three weeks ago.
Pru worked her way through the crowded room to a table beside the stage. Cross, Anton, and the other Lovell siblings—Rose, Beau, and Tom—filled the chairs. Dozens of empty glasses and bottles cluttered the table.
Cross was laughing when his eyes landed on me. He didn’t stop talking to say hi or even acknowledge me. My hopes fell.
A half beat later, his face whipped back in my direction and his lips formed a kiss. A long wolf whistle zipped loose. He climbed over chairs and people to get to me. I laughed as strong arms swooped me up in an embrace. He pressed his lips to mine before setting me down. “Wow. Look at you. You pulled out all the tricks tonight.”
A smattering of stubble across his cheeks changed the look of his face. Dark bangs drifted into his eyes, longer than the first time I saw him sing. A crisp white button-down was rolled up to his elbows and stretched over his lean chest. He locked his hands behind my back and stared down at me. “How am I supposed to sing tonight with you out here looking like this?”
I teased. “It’s the boots, isn’t it? I had a feeling you’d go for a country girl.”
Cross chuckled low and deep, pressing me to him. “Baby, I’m in love with a country girl.”
My toes curled inside my boots. “Prove it.”
He lowered his mouth to mine. I arched against his chest, rising to my tiptoes. For a moment, the world was still, silent, void of everything outside our kiss.
The microphone screeched with feedback. “Uh, Will Morris?”
The crowd laughed and applauded. Cross took his time letting me go. I swayed a moment, watching him take his place on stage. Anton carried his guitar onto the stage, while I stumbled to the crowded table of Lovells.
Pru had taken Cross’s empty seat. “Nice hello you had over there.”
I pressed my lips together, enjoying the tingle left from his kisses. “No doubt.”
Anton motioned to his seat. “Here. You sit. I’m good.”
I collapsed into the chair, euphoria swimming in my brain. Rose and Tom watched me, but my eyes trained on Cross. Tonight was about him.
Cross settled the guitar strap over his head and strummed a happy melody. So much for the power ballad he’d wanted. My foot tapped in rhythm.
He hummed with the melody for a few bars before slowing the pace and piercing me with his unfathomable dark eyes. “She was a woman on a mission…learning about forgiveness…”
Breath caught in my throat. Was this about me? Had he written a song about me?
“She was planning to make a difference...”
My heart welled, filling every inch of space inside me. Pru bumped my elbow. I clasped my hands to quell the trembling and focused on his angelic voice.
“But sometimes things don’t always go as planned.”
The crowd stilled around me, equally intoxicated with his presence, collectively yearning for his next words. What didn’t go as planned?
“Some say her heart was broken, but they didn’t even know her. She was stronger than the world dared to see.”
I blinked wet eyes. It wasn’t about me.
Pru gripped my hand in hers. The word barely lifted from her lips. “Faith.”
“Her beauty never tired, she was hope, Faith inspired. No one ever loved her more than me. Now I’m living out her message and I’m reaching for the next page and I’m proof she can go on. That’s her way.”
Cross strummed harder and hoisted his body off the stool, where he crooned into the microphone.
“No, we don’t have forever, so I’m throwing out the never.
“I will find my truth. I will conquer and divide. I fight for what is right. I will challenge all the lies.
“My love will make a difference in the world of unforgiveness. I’m shining up the pages in a life with too much grayness. In your smile and your faith, I’m alive.
“We’ll turn the darkness into light. We won’t give up without a fight. We’ll be the change we prayed so long to see.”
Tears streamed over my cheeks. Those were Faith’s words. Rearranged and set to music, no longer hidden on a blog no one read. Cross had yanked them from cyberspace and made them real. Made her real. Her words were alive with us, changing faces in the room, changing hearts, changing me. Pride and joy burst through me.
The chair rattled as I stood, breathing in the moment. I opened my arms to suck it all in.
Pru and the Lovells joined me, nodding and swaying to the words.
“There’s no place for never in a world so blessed by heaven. No time to sit and wish you’d done things right.
“No, we don’t have forever, so I’m throwing out the never.
“Set aside the unforgiveness. Decide to make a difference. Vow that you and I will live today. Let’s live today.”
The crowd went insane. Dozens of girls rushed the stage, drowning the emcee’s recap of competitors in endless applause. I craned my neck for a glimpse of Cross, but he was swallowed in the crowd.
Anton moved into view. “May I?”
I shrugged. He could do anything he wanted. I was high on endorphins.
Anton’s hands wrapped around my waist and he lifted my feet off the ground. Pru took my fingers, guiding me onto the table. From the added height advantage, I pinpointed Cross in the knot of frenzied patrons.
Pru scrambled onto the table beside me, squeezed me against her side and screamed over the noise. “Best. Night. Ever.”
Anton clapped over his head, calling for an encore and chanting, “Will, Will, Will, Will.”
The crowd joined in.
Cross emerged with a look of concern. His eyes met mine and he made a straight line to my feet on the table. He wrapped one arm around my back and I jumped into his arms. My legs wrapped around his middle on instinct. The material of my skirt fell over my thighs. His free arm supported my weight. People cheered. His dimple caved in. “You liked it?”
There weren’t words to show how much, so I kissed him.
Pru hooted and hollered from the tabletop.
Feedback from the microphone stopped our kiss, but he didn’t let me go. “I don’t know about you guys,” the emcee snarked, “but I think we have another unanimous winner tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give it up for Will Morris!”
Cross spun around, pressing his lips to mine and smiling in between kisses.
The emcee beckoned. “Come on up here, Will. We’ve got a big fat check with your name on it and a personal invitation to dinner with music execs in Memphis, Tennessee.”
I untangled my ankles and stretched for the ground.
Cross cupped my face in his hands. “I love you.” He kissed my forehead and turned for the stage.
“I love you, too.”
The crowd settled into their seats, save one fortysomething pastor standing shell-shocked five feet away.
“Daddy.”
Chapter 21
Revelations
As Cross climbed onto the stage in victory, I schlepped through the crowd in shame. I’d blatantly defied my dad, betrayed him and horrified us both by jumping on my forbidden boyfriend in public. Not exactly appropriate behavior for the preacher’s daughter or a future theology student.
I bypassed Dad, opting to gather my thoughts and prepare a proper explanation before he confronted me. Cool night air slapped my burning cheeks as my feet hit the sidewalk outside Red�
��s. Having a rational discussion with him was hard enough. Having that discussion in a bar wasn’t happening.
He didn’t stop me. I assumed he waited to collect his other daughter before storming home. I arrived first, put on a pot of coffee, and took my seat at the table, anticipating the inevitable and plotting to avoid an ugly battle.
Pru texted twice.
“You okay?”
Followed by:
“I’m with Dad. I said good-bye for you.”
Ahead of her texts were four I’d missed. The music and crowd inside Red’s had been louder than I’d realized. Dad had texted me every ten minutes from ten until ten forty. My heart sank for him. He must’ve been so worried when we didn’t answer.
Tendrils of rich steam rose from the coffeemaker, filling our little kitchen. I tapped the screen of my phone and responded to Pru’s text. What was taking them so long? “Where’s Dad?”
The back door swung open and I jumped. Dad stopped cold, apparently stunned by my presence. He probably expected me to be in my room, not waiting at the table.
Pru’s response text arrived as she passed through the threshold behind Dad.
“Home.”
I steadied my nerves. “Can we talk? I’m making coffee.”
Dad grimaced. “You can’t do that, Mercy. You can’t expect me to treat you like an adult when I just saw you wrapped around some stranger at a bar like an out-of-control child.”
I poured two cups from the still-brewing pot. “I haven’t been a child in a long time.” Steam from the coffee warmed my face and eased my mind. I placed the mugs on the table. “Let’s talk.”
Pru gestured wildly enough to land a Cessna behind him.
Dad knew without seeing. “Go on up to your room, Prudence.”
She turned on her heels and left the room, though she likely stopped to listen from the stairs.
In Place of Never Page 23