The Quality of Mercy

by Ari McKay

  Jules reached out to rest his hand on top of Al’s and squeeze it supportively. “I appreciate the sentiment, Al, but I won’t have you put your life on hold just to keep me from being alone. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “I am certain Gil would be flexible if you prefer to live in town,” Carlos said. “However, with the hours you will keep as a hand, I believe you would find it easier to live at Bent Oak.”

  Al nodded slowly, then looked at Jules. “Are you certain?”

  “Of course I am,” Jules replied, his tone warm. “We talked about this before. You’re an adult now, and you need to follow your own dreams. You’ll always have a home with me, if you want or need it. It’s not as though I’m hundreds of miles away, after all. I imagine if you find a young lady who takes your fancy, I’ll see you in town often enough.”

  Al chuckled. “There are some very pretty girls in town,” he said, then looked at Carlos. “Do you have a lady friend, Carlos? I don’t want to get my heart set on someone, then have you come along and steal her away!”

  Somehow, Carlos managed to keep a straight face and not look pointedly at Jules as he answered Al’s question. “Rest assured, you will have no competition from me, no matter who you choose to court.”

  “All right, I’ll hold you to that,” Al replied, flashing Carlos a grin. He finished the last of his cornbread, then sighed and sat back. “That was delicious, Pa. I appreciate you cooking such a fine meal for us.”

  “Well, I thought you deserved something special.” Jules rose to his feet and reached for Al’s empty plate, but Al jumped up and batted playfully at Jules’s hand.

  “You cooked, I clean! That’s still our arrangement until I move out.” Al looked at his stepfather sternly, although his lips twitched. “Go on. I’m sure you and Carlos have a lot to catch up on after ten years.” He gave Carlos a wink. “I can assure you Carlos’s grammar didn’t slip once the entire day, so I think your lessons stuck.”

  Jules looked chagrined, but apparently he wasn’t going to argue with Al. “I’ll see Mr. Hernandez out.”

  “Good night, Carlos,” Al said, holding out a hand. “Thanks for everything today. I feel as though I’ve learned a lot already.”

  “You are quite welcome.” Carlos shook Al’s hand. “I will inform you as soon as I have spoken to Gil. I doubt I will have much difficulty in convincing him to hire you.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” Al replied with a grin. Then he began clearing the table, and Jules turned his attention to Carlos.

  “Shall we, Mr. Hernandez?” he asked, motioning toward the door.

  “By all means, Mr. Wingate.” Carlos gave Jules a wicked smile before heading to the door, putting a little extra swagger in his step to make sure Jules had an excellent view.

  Jules waited silently while Carlos retrieved his hat, then opened the door and ushered Carlos out onto the front porch. He closed the door, then looked at Carlos, his grim expression discernible even in the pale moonlight.

  “I think we can dispense with the politeness now, so I’ll repeat my earlier question,” Jules said. “What is this game you’re playing, Carlos?”

  “I am playing no game,” Carlos replied, gazing at Jules somberly. He would have to be honest and humble if he wanted any chance at earning Jules’s forgiveness, but he was willing to do whatever it took to win Jules’s trust again. “I assure you, I have no dishonorable intentions toward your stepson, and I want only to apologize and beg your forgiveness for my selfish actions in the past.”

  The laugh Jules gave was bitter. “Do you expect me to believe you care about my forgiveness? I was just another conquest you used and discarded. The fault is mine for not seeing through you, for letting myself believe for even a moment that you cared about me at all.”

  “If you had merely been a conquest, we would not have been together nearly a year,” Carlos pointed out. “I loved you, but I was a boy, foolish and afraid. I thought I needed to see more of the world, and the depth of my feelings for you frightened me because I was not ready to plant any roots. I was too eager to wander freely, and so I found a way to sabotage our relationship rather than end it like a man. But in doing so, I threw away something precious, and I have regretted it ever since.”

  Jules’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive move. “I doubt that,” he said. “Oh, I believe you were a foolish, selfish boy, and you were eager to be free of me. In fact, the biggest surprise is that it took you nearly a year to grow tired of my affections. But do not believe me such a love-blinded fool as to think you regret anything. You were far too defiant about throwing your infidelity in my face. You wanted to hurt me, Carlos. Well, you can be proud of your success. Nothing and no one in my life has ever hurt me the way you did. But you taught me an important lesson, and I learned it well.”

  Jules’s bitterness hit hard, but Carlos bore the brunt of it without flinching. Jules deserved to unleash his anger and pain at its proper target at long last, and Carlos deserved to hear every word.

  “You are correct,” he admitted quietly. “I did want to hurt you, but I am not proud of anything I did that caused you pain. I feel only remorse for having been so callous and cruel. But I am that boy no longer. I am a man who seeks a home and someone to share it with.”

  Again Jules gave a bark of laughter that held no trace of humor. “What is that to me? As long as you haven’t set your sights on my stepson, I have no reason to care what you want in your life, Carlos. Maybe you’ll find someone who will break your heart the way you broke mine. That would be poetic justice.”

  “No, I have not set my sights on Al. I want a man, not a boy,” Carlos said. He searched Jules’s face intently, looking for any sign that there might be some tender emotion hidden behind the anger, but he couldn’t see it. “The truth is, I want you,” he said at last, deciding to take the risk of being honest. He had nothing to lose, after all. “I have missed you these past ten years. I have never found another man who made me feel as you did.”

  Jules’s eyes widened, and his head rocked back as though Carlos had slapped him. For a long moment, all he could seem to manage was to stare at Carlos, and then he closed his eyes. But not before Carlos caught a glimpse of heat, of yearning, of the loneliness and longing that Jules was hiding. He’d always been able to see within Jules, to read his heart; it was how he had known, years ago, the depth with which Jules had loved him. Now it revealed to him that no matter what Jules’s lips might say, deep inside, a part of Jules loved Carlos and wanted him in spite of the pain he’d inflicted.

  “No.” Jules choked out the word, his voice unsteady. “I’m not an idiot, Carlos. I won’t believe your lies again.”

  “I will never lie to you, Jules. I swear it.” Carlos captured Jules’s hand, wanting—needing—the connection. After years of regret and yearning, he could scarcely stand being so close to Jules without being able to touch him. “All I ask is for a chance to earn your trust and your love anew and to prove myself worthy of you.”

  Jules’s hand was cold, and the fingers Carlos gripped trembled in his grasp. Jules was breathing hard and fast, and Carlos had enough experience with frightened animals to recognize that was what his words evoked in Jules. Anger was there, and plenty of it, along with the hurt Jules hadn’t bothered to hide. But it seemed Jules’s primary reaction was fear, as though Jules was afraid to believe him—maybe even afraid that he did believe him.

  Finally, however, Jules tugged his hand. “No,” he whispered. “I’m not letting you fool me again. I fell for your pretty words and longing looks once before, and they were lies. I’m not giving you that kind of power over me again. Let me go, Carlos.” Jules opened his eyes, and Carlos saw the desperation in them. “Please, just let me go.”

  Carlos released Jules’s hand and took a step back, recognizing Jules’s need to escape. Neither of them would benefit from Carlos pushing the issue further right now, and giving Jules some time and space to think about the convers
ation was the best thing Carlos could do.

  “I took too much from you when I was a selfish boy, but I will never again take anything from you that is not willingly given,” Carlos said, gazing at him somberly. “If you wish me to go, then I will bid you good night and ask you to extend my farewells to Al as well.”

  Jules nodded, then turned away. He paused at the door, as though he might have something else to say, but finally he opened the door, slipped inside the house, and closed it quietly behind himself.

  Carlos lingered outside for a moment longer, lost in thought. Jules’s bitterness and anger were formidable, and Carlos wasn’t certain how he could convince Jules to let them go and trust him again. After all the damage he’d done, he faced a daunting task indeed, but he was determined to try. He hadn’t found a man who could inspire him to the heights of passion and emotion that Jules could, and he doubted he ever would. He wanted Jules, and no one else would satisfy his aching heart.

  With a quiet sigh, he turned away from the house and unhitched Corazon. He had a long ride back to Bent Oak ahead of him and nothing but time in which to think about how to woo and win Jules Wingate.

  Chapter Four

  “SIX TIMES six is….”

  The small, brown-haired girl facing Jules looked nervous, biting her lip as she thought hard about the answer. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and Jules had to clamp down firmly on a smile as he caught the telltale twitch of each finger as she counted.

  “Take a deep breath, Grace,” he said softly. “You know this. Just think.”

  Grace took in a deep breath as instructed. “Thirty-six!” she said, a smile wreathing her features.

  “That’s right. Very good!” Jules watched as Grace slid back into her seat with a sigh of relief. He glanced at the clock on his desk, which indicated it was only one minute until three, so he faced the class. “All right, everyone, it’s time to pack up. Don’t forget your reading assignments. I could call on any one of you to recite aloud on Monday.”

  “Yes, Mr. Wingate,” came the obedient chorus of young voices, just before the bell at the top of the schoolhouse began to ring, signaling the end of the day. The students gathered up their things, many of them talking excitedly to one another about planned activities for the next two days. Jules stood by the door, wishing each of his students a good day, receiving their smiles and nods. When the last child had departed, he packed up his own things in preparation for returning to his quiet, empty house.

  It was the end of the second week of school, also marking two weeks since Al had moved out to Bent Oak Ranch, leaving Jules by himself for the first time in nearly a decade. Having a house to himself once again was odd after having grown used to Al’s presence. It was a bit lonely, too, but Jules had resigned himself to making the necessary adjustment. Al needed to find what made him happy. Jules would learn to live without his stepson’s constant presence.

  Thoughts of Al were swiftly followed by thoughts of Carlos Hernandez. After meeting Carlos at the reception his first night in town, Jules had found himself wrestling once more with the demons of his past, ones he’d thought buried and forgotten. But the sight of Carlos, even more handsome as a confident thirty-year-old than he’d been at twenty, had been a cruel reminder of both happiness and heartache.

  Closing his eyes, Jules drew in a deep breath, pain lancing through him yet again. He remembered meeting Carlos for the first time, the tingle he’d felt when they shook hands, the sudden light of awareness in Carlos’s brown eyes. Carlos had come to him for English lessons, referred by another hand on the ranch where he worked. There had been an economic slump affecting the area, and prices had gone up, making Jules grateful for the extra income he earned by tutoring adult students in the evenings.

  It hadn’t taken long for Carlos to seduce him, a fact that caused Jules no small amount of shame. Jules’s previous lovers had been men close to his own age, fellow academics, educated men who were quite aware of the precarious position in which their desires placed them. They’d had a code of discreet silence, and although Jules had been fond of all of them, there had been no one to whom Jules felt more than a passing attraction.

  Carlos was from a different mold entirely. Young—although Jules hadn’t realized exactly how young at the time—strong and rugged, with a flashing smile and a wicked sense of humor unlike anyone else in Jules’s circle of friends, Carlos had been completely outside of Jules’s experience. Jules thought he knew what passion was, but the physical intimacy he’d shared with past lovers had ill prepared him for being the focus of Carlos’s attentions. The intensity of their relationship had been exhilarating, as well as frightening, but Jules had been so lost in it that he hadn’t cared. Carlos had stolen his heart, made Jules feel the things he’d read about in the works of Shakespeare and Baudelaire. Until he met Carlos, he’d never known what it was to feel truly alive.

  Perhaps he’d known from the beginning that it would have to end; one did not aspire to soar with the angels without an awareness of the imminent crash back to earth. Being in love had blinded Jules to the danger, however, and he didn’t read the signs in Carlos’s increasing emotional distance or the way Carlos had less and less time for him. In retrospect, Jules should have known what was coming, and even though he didn’t believe he had been clinging to Carlos, it could have seemed different from the younger man’s point of view. But whether he should have known or not, Jules wasn’t prepared to find Carlos in bed with another man or for Carlos’s callous brush-off of Jules’s anger and pain.

  Jules was not a man to beg, so he’d walked away, telling himself he’d been a fool, that Carlos wasn’t worth it. He vowed to never take Carlos back, no matter how much Carlos might beg and plead. But Carlos hadn’t. In fact, Jules hadn’t seen him again until Mercy. That had probably been the cruelest cut of all to Jules’s heart as well as his ego. Carlos had tossed Jules aside as casually as he would have thrown away an old shirt.

  The blow had rocked Jules to the core, and his work had suffered. He couldn’t sleep or eat, couldn’t concentrate on his students… and then the gossip started. Some of the townsfolk believed he was ill, possibly dying, while others were certain he’d been rejected by a lover. Worse, he’d been seen around town enough with his “friend” Carlos that some people started to put the pieces together and come up with an answer that was too close to the truth. Jules knew he had to get out of town, and he held himself together long enough to finish out the school year, then packed his bags, bought a train ticket to the farthest point the money in his pocket would take him, not caring where it was, and left.

  He’d ended up in eastern Texas, far enough from Oklahoma to escape the gossip and speculation. He’d had to dip into the money his parents had left him, renting a room in a boarding house and shutting himself away for almost two months. In retrospect, Jules was rather ashamed he’d let himself go to pieces so badly, but he had no experience in how to handle a broken heart. The important thing was that he’d pulled himself together and found a job. He moved to Stafford, Texas, determined to pick up the pieces of his life. He was also determined that he was through with love and sex. He could live without it. In fact, he was better off without that kind of complication in his life.

  But he still had feelings, and Mary Stevens, who cleaned the schoolhouse and his own small dwelling, was a kindred spirit. They’d recognized the pain in one another, and Mary had confided to him that even though she presented herself as a widow, she had no idea if her husband was alive or not. He’d run off with a girl he met in a dance hall, leaving Mary and their young son to fend for themselves. Mary had done the only thing she could in moving back to her hometown and telling everyone her husband was dead. Her parents had died not long after, leaving her alone except for Al.

  Jules confided in her about his preferences and about what had happened with Carlos, grateful that Mary hadn’t condemned him and had sympathized over his pain. When Mary learned she was dying, she’d come to Jules, and he hadn’t he
sitated for a moment. Mary was in agony that her child would be left alone in the world, at the mercy of strangers, and Jules had offered marriage, which Mary had gratefully accepted. Jules had cared for Mary for the rest of her life and had felt the loss of her gentle soul like a physical wound. But he’d kept his promise and taken care of Al, who he loved like his own son.

  So some good had come from the agony Jules had suffered, but it didn’t make it any easier for him to see Carlos again. And Carlos hadn’t made it any easier by claiming to want Jules back in his life. It had to be a lie, just another cruelty Carlos was visiting upon him, even if Jules couldn’t understand why. But Jules couldn’t lie to himself or deny the way his heart had leaped for the briefest of moments. Nor could he deny that Carlos’s mere presence was enough to make his heart race and his skin tingle with remembered passion. No one else had ever affected him that way, making Jules long for things that could never be.

  “Mr. Wingate?”

  A soft voice brought Jules out of his reverie, and he rose to his feet at once. A young woman stood in the doorway, a frown of concern on her delicately beautiful face. She was tiny, no more than five feet tall, with blonde curls and gentle blue eyes.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, brushing his hands over his jacket to smooth out any wrinkles. “I’m afraid I was woolgathering. How may I help you?”

  The young woman crossed the room in a rustle of pale blue skirts and offered Jules her hand, which he took politely. “I can imagine a moment of peace and quiet is a rare thing for a schoolmaster. I’m Tabitha McManus, from the school committee. I regret not meeting you before now, but I’ve been visiting family back East with my mother for the past month.” She smiled, her expression one of genuine friendliness.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss McManus,” Jules replied, pressing her hand briefly and releasing it. “I did meet your father, and Mrs. Hennessey mentioned you were away. I do hope you had a pleasant trip.”