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The Quality of Mercy

Page 14

by Ari McKay


  “Not for him. For you, Jules. So you can heal.”

  Jules glanced at Carlos, thinking about all those things and about the choice that lay before him. He didn’t know if he could leap with the assurance Mary had possessed, but he wanted to do something.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “For what?” Carlos asked, giving him a curious look.

  “I’m not certain I can explain entirely,” Jules replied, feeling his cheeks growing hot. He lowered his voice, not wanting to take a chance he might be overheard, despite the continued singing. “I’ve been thinking a lot since our outing, and something Mary once said to me was on my mind. She wished she could see Al’s father again. Not because she was angry with him, but because she wanted to thank him for what he had given her. She said not everyone got to experience true happiness in their lives, even for a brief time, so she was grateful for what she’d had while she had it and especially grateful for Al. You gave me true happiness while we were together, and now you’ve offered me your heart… so I suppose telling you I’m grateful for both is something I need to do. For both of us.”

  “I am glad I made you happy, despite my selfishness,” Carlos said, slanting a smile at Jules. “I would like to make you happy again, and I would like to experience true happiness unfettered by my old restlessness.”

  Jules nodded. “I want to be happy. I’ve been living in a prison of anger and pain, but after ten years, it’s not your fault, but mine. I put up the walls all on my own, stone by stone, to protect myself. I believe you when you say you love me, and I can see how much you’ve changed. Now it’s up to me to see if I can change as well.”

  “If you had not begun to change already, I do not think we would be sitting here like this,” Carlos said, glancing at Jules with a softness in his dark eyes. “I regret I gave you reason to build those walls in the first place, and I want to help you tear them down again, if I can.”

  “Thank you,” Jules replied. “I want to tear them down. I don’t want to be a bitter man. I want to be free.”

  “I want that too. You deserve it.” Carlos reached out and squeezed Jules’s shoulder briefly, as if he couldn’t resist the urge to connect with Jules any longer. “Even if you find your happiness and freedom with someone other than me.”

  Jules hesitated for a moment, then put a hand on Carlos’s thigh, savoring the warmth through the fabric of Carlos’s jeans. “I appreciate that. I’m trying to take a lesson from Mary. She wanted me to find you. She thought finding you again was the only way for me to heal.”

  “Perhaps Mary guided your steps to Mercy,” Carlos said, resting his hand atop Jules’s.

  “Maybe she did.” Jules smiled wistfully. “She was a wonderful woman, and I wish you could have met her. I am so pleased Al is so much like her.”

  “He seems much like you as well, even though you are not his natural father. He is a fine young man and a welcome addition to Bent Oak.”

  “I’m glad.” Jules let his hand remain where it was, since no one could see into the carriage. There was a certain illicit thrill to having Carlos touching him without anyone suspecting. “I’m glad we came here. Al is spreading his wings and seems as happy as I’ve ever seen him. He loves Mercy, and I can see why.”

  Carlos gave a little snort. “I believe Tabitha McManus is one of the primary draws for Al right now, even above the horses.”

  “I believe Al has chosen well.”

  The conversation turned to more mundane matters, mostly about Mercy and its inhabitants. Soon enough they reached town, and Jules regretfully removed his hand from Carlos’s leg. It took a few minutes to find a place to tie up the horses, since it seemed as though there were even more people in town than at the fall festival.

  Carlos helped him out of the carriage, then helped clear a path for him as he made his way on his crutches through the crowd of people who were filling the community hall nearly to the rafters. There were long rows of tables, and Carlos led him to a long table where Jeanie and Robert Carruthers with their baby, Matt and Gil, Al, and Tabitha McManus were already gathered. Jules was surprised to find Tabitha had been permitted to join them, knowing as he did that her father was quite stern about appearances, but then he caught Jeanie’s satisfied smile and chuckled. Jeanie Grayson Carruthers was a force of nature, and even the strong will of Tabitha’s father faltered upon the rock of her determination.

  He greeted everyone, and then Carlos helped him settle onto one of the benches next to Al. Apparently they’d arrived just in time, because Mrs. Hennessey, the town matriarch, asked Father McNamara, the priest of the Catholic church, and Mr. Layton, the pastor of the Presbyterian church, to come forward and lead them in prayer.

  Jules respectfully bowed his head, thinking about all the things for which he was thankful. There was Al, of course, and all the people in Mercy who had been so kind to him, but the face in the forefront of his mind was Carlos’s.

  The prayer ended, and Mrs. Hennessey announced that dinner was served. People immediately began to rise and make their way to the line of laden tables against one wall. Jules had seen the incredible amount and variety of foods as they’d entered, and noted with some small bit of pride that Carlos’s beans, which had been sent ahead earlier with Consuela Ortega, had been given a prominent place among the various dishes. Everything smelled wonderful, and the big hall was filled with the sound of happy people preparing to feast.

  “Stay here,” Carlos instructed sternly. “I will prepare a plate for you and bring it back. Let me know if you have any preferences. Otherwise, I will use my best judgment.”

  Jules smiled gratefully. He was getting more independent every day, but the thought of navigating a crowd while using crutches and holding a plate was more than he could handle. “I’ll have whatever you’re going to have,” he replied quietly. “I’m sure it’s all very good.”

  “With chocolate sponge cake for dessert?” Carlos asked. “I believe I saw one, and I will be as ruthless as I must to procure a slice for you, if it is still your favorite.”

  “Chocolate?” Jules couldn’t help but smile, and he nodded eagerly. “Thank you, that would be wonderful. Just don’t get yourself put in jail to get it.”

  Matt laughed and clapped Carlos on the shoulder. “I’ll keep him from getting noticed by the sheriff,” he promised. “I’ll create a distraction if you need it, amigo. Wouldn’t want our favorite teacher not to get some of Mrs. O’Reilly’s sponge cake!”

  “Perhaps I should get dessert first,” Carlos said, chuckling warmly as he looked at Matt. “It might be gone before I get through the line.”

  “A sound plan, Mr. Hernandez,” Tabitha said as she moved past them, her hand on Al’s arm. She smiled at Jules. “It’s good to see you up and about, Mr. Wingate. I’m told the students ask after you often.”

  “Thank you,” Jules replied. “I’ve received many get-well notes from them in the past few weeks. It’s nice to be missed.”

  Tabitha nodded, and then Al led her away. Soon Jules was alone at the big table, but he didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to say hello to other people as they passed him on their way to the buffet line.

  When Carlos returned, he was carrying two plates piled high with turkey and mashed potatoes slathered in gravy plus a colorful array of vegetables—including a serving of the beans—and a thick slab of cornbread. He set one plate in front of Jules, and Jules spied a slice of chocolate sponge cake on it.

  “I had plenty of assistance in acquiring the sponge cake,” Carlos said as he swung his leg over the bench and took a seat next to Jules. “We should be thankful for helpful friends. There were only two slices left when I got there.”

  “You are spoiling me,” Jules said, smiling warmly. “I appreciate it. I haven’t had chocolate cake in a long time.”

  “I understand Mrs. O’Reilly’s cake is quite good, but I prefer Consuela’s apple pie.” Carlos leaned over and nudged Jules’s shoulder. “Eat up. You are still recuperating, and
you need your strength. There is still plenty of food if you would like seconds.”

  “I think this is plenty,” Jules said, picking up his knife and fork. “Everything looks delicious too. I’ve not seen this much food since….” He felt eyes on him, and he glanced up to find Caleb frowning at him from the table where the hands were sitting. Jules was surprised, and as he smiled hesitantly at the younger man, Caleb looked quickly away.

  “Jules?” Carlos was regarding him with concern. “Is something wrong?”

  Jules turned his attention back to Carlos. “No, nothing. Sorry. I thought someone was trying to get my attention, but I was wrong.” He didn’t want to mention Caleb frowning at him, not wanting to cast any shadows on what was turning out to be a wonderful day.

  Carlos picked up his fork and began to eat, his attention diverted by Gil asking how Carmencita was doing and how much longer it would be before she foaled. Pleasant conversation buzzed around them, and Jules gladly joined in. He’d often been invited to functions in the other towns where he’d taught, but somehow he’d always felt like an outsider until he’d met Mary. Mercy was different, and he didn’t know if it was because there were always people coming and going as the ranches hired new hands and old ones moved on to other places, or if it was simply because the people of Mercy had big enough hearts to accept everyone, rather than keeping newcomers at arm’s length. Oh, there were people who seemed to have more than a touch of snobbishness—Tabitha McManus’s parents came to mind—but for the most part, people were friendly and welcoming, and it didn’t seem to matter much how long you’d been there or who you were. He liked Mercy quite a lot.

  After he’d stuffed himself as full as he could ever remember being—topped off with Mrs. O’Reilly’s excellent cake—Jules reached for his crutches. “If you will excuse me,” he said quietly. Jeanie had told them they could use the water closet at her house, and he didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself.

  Carlos immediately stood up and offered his hand to help Jules. “I will go with you,” he murmured. “You may need assistance.”

  Jules took Carlos’s extended hand and rose from the bench. He got his crutches positioned, then made his way out of the hall, Carlos clearing the path of coats, boxes, and small children. Once outside, Jules drew in a deep breath and set off down the street toward the Carruthers’s house, the two of them discussing the meal and how good it had been.

  After finishing up, Jules joined Carlos on the porch and looked up and down the deserted street. The town was peaceful and quiet save for the sound of voices and laughter that reached them from the hall, but there were warm lights in the windows of the stores and houses.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” he said. “Is it odd that I feel safe and accepted here in a way I’ve never felt anywhere else? Even though people don’t know… well, you know.”

  “I do not consider it odd,” Carlos replied, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops as he took in the sights as well. “I feel the same way. Enough people know the truth about my preferences that I do not feel completely alone and isolated. I believe that helps.”

  “Yes, it does.” Jules glanced up at Carlos. “Almost everywhere I’ve been in my life, I’ve felt alone with my secret. I can’t believe how good it feels not to hide from everyone. Not that any of us could go shouting it from the rooftops, of course, but I like not having to look over my shoulder all the time.”

  “That and having friends who understand because they share your secret and friends who accept you, like Jeanie and Robert. We must still be careful, but there are times and places where it is not necessary to be on guard, and that is a relief.”

  Jules stepped closer to Carlos. “I can see building a life here. One that would be safe and happy.”

  Carlos smiled as he took advantage of the privacy and solitude and slid his arm around Jules’s waist. “I hope you can.”

  A quick, anxious glance showed that they were alone, and it was dark enough on the porch that Jules allowed himself to relax into the embrace. He’d stood in public with his arm around Mary, of course, but it hadn’t felt like this. He wondered if there would ever be a time or place in the world where men like he and Carlos, and Matt and Gil, could be together without fear of discovery. If so, he wished he could live to see it.

  “Carlos, I….” Jules turned his head to look at Carlos’s profile, but a movement beyond Carlos caught his eye, and he peered closer, trying to see who was there. He quickly took a step away from Carlos, giving a small shake of his head as a warning, lest Carlos say something compromising.

  He wasn’t certain, but from the height and the glint of the light on fair hair, he thought it might be Caleb. He almost hoped that it was. At least Caleb wouldn’t go carrying tales to other people if he’d overheard anything that betrayed the intimate way he and Carlos had been standing. “We should probably get back. People will start to wonder.”

  “I suppose we should,” Carlos said, his voice laden with regret as he put some distance between them.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” Jules said, adjusting his crutches to make sure he had his balance.

  “Be careful on the steps.” Carlos stretched out his arm, ready to catch Jules if he stumbled on the porch steps.

  Jules concentrated on making his way down. He bobbled a bit on the last one, his cast jarring against the ground, and he gave a gasp. “Ouch!”

  Carlos was instantly at his side, sliding one arm around his waist to steady him and watching him with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just clumsy.” Jules shook his head ruefully, but he couldn’t help enjoying another stolen moment with Carlos’s arm around him. “Sorry.”

  “It is no trouble,” Carlos replied, waiting until Jules was off the bottom step and steady on his feet to release him. “It would be easy to fall and break another bone if you are not careful.”

  “Heaven knows I don’t want that to happen,” Jules replied. He felt cold without Carlos’s body next to his, but he shouldn’t dwell on that. No matter how much he wanted to do so.

  As they returned to the hall, he wondered what would happen if he couldn’t bring himself to trust Carlos again. Would Carlos find someone else, or would he end up alone, as Jules would? Because if Jules was certain of one thing, it was that Carlos was the only man he would ever love—and if he couldn’t have Carlos, then he wanted no one at all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  DECEMBER BEGAN with a few chilly, blustery days, and Jules was appreciative when he returned to the house after his class and found Al had gotten back before him and had already built up the fire. He balanced himself on one leg as he removed his coat and hat, then went into the parlor, which was brightly lit and welcoming.

  “You finished up early?” he asked, smiling at his stepson widely as he saw the prepared tea tray waiting for him. “Oh, perfect. You spoil me rotten, Al.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Al helped Jules to his chair and leaned the crutches against the wall. “How was your class?”

  “Very good. I think I’ve helped Dennis past his problem with division, and Artie is now up to the third-grade reader.” Jules sighed, but it was a happy sound. “I didn’t realize how satisfying it could be to teach adults.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to go back to teaching the young’uns when the schoolhouse is rebuilt?” Al asked, handing Jules a cup of hot tea before he sat down himself.

  Jules took a sip of the tea and decided he might as well introduce the possibility of remaining at Bent Oak. If things worked out with Carlos, he would prefer to be at the ranch rather than in town.

  “I’m not certain,” he replied. “Gil has indicated I can keep teaching as long as I wish, and I must admit, I’ve had a great deal of time to work on my book as well.” He raised one eyebrow. “Would that be all right with you? I don’t want you to think I’m trying to butt into your life too much, you know.”

  Al made a scoffing noise. “I don’t think that! I like having you
here.” He paused, studying Jules. “You seem pretty happy here too. I think it’s been good for you. The sadness in your eyes is finally going away.”

  Jules was surprised by the observation. “You think I’ve been sad?” he asked. “I do miss your mother, I admit, but I haven’t been miserable with just the two of us.”

  “It was there even before Ma died,” Al replied. “You’ve always seemed to have a weight bearing down on you, but it’s started to lift since you’ve been here.”

  Jules knew Al was perceptive, so he inclined his head, acknowledging the point. “There were things in my life before I met your mother that hurt me quite deeply,” he admitted. “I think I’m moving beyond them at last.”

  “Good. You deserve some happiness.” Al leaned over and got a cup of tea for himself, but he didn’t drink it, seeming lost in thought. “I love Bent Oak, and I like the people here, especially Carlos. But….” He seemed pensive.

  Jules leaned forward in his chair, worried. “But what?” he asked. “Is something bothering you here?”

  Al was quiet for a moment longer, and then he looked at Jules with a puzzled frown. “Those stories from the Greek classics, like Achilles and Patroclus. You told me their relationship was interpreted different ways. I always thought it sounded like they were in love with each other, but I didn’t think that really happened. Two men being in love, I mean. Does it, though?”

  Jules had sometimes wondered if he’d ever have to confront this question from his stepson, but coming as it did now that they were at Bent Oak made him wonder if Al had noticed anything between him and Carlos. The possibility made his heart pound, but outwardly he stayed as calm as he could.

  “Yes, it can,” he said, deciding to be honest. “Two women can be in love as well. It has happened throughout history.” He paused. “May I ask why you’re curious?”

 

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