Deacon Johns

by Ciana Stone

  On the other hand, she might be wrong about his true character and he might have decided to just indulge in a flirtation, see how far it would go, have a fling, and then take a walk that would never lead him back to her door again. And that would make her very unhappy.

  So, she’d not press for the why. She’d just enjoy the moment and the day. It was actually a grand day. A few lazy clouds in an otherwise endless sea of blue. The temperature was mild, just warm enough to enjoy being outside but not so warm that you’d work up a sweat on the walk.

  There were a lot of people out in town and everyone was headed in the same direction. She spent the time asking Deacon questions about Sanctuary, about his career in the military and where he’d grown up.

  He was surprisingly forthcoming with the information. She did notice that he made no mention of a family. She wondered if there was a Mrs. Deacon in his past but didn’t ask. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

  The park was surprisingly crowded. There was someone at the entrance, selling tickets to the games and basically taking donations. Mica had crammed cash into her pocket before lunch in hopes she could convince Deacon to come with her, so she dug out two twenty-dollar bills and received a handful of tickets.

  “Here.” She handed Deacon half of them and took his hand. “Come on, let’s play.”

  She pointed to one of the Shoot the Duck games. There were colorful stuffed animals hanging along the rim of the booth, the prizes up for grabs. “Win me one.” She pushed him to the booth.

  “What makes you think I can?”

  “Aren’t you a big bad SEAL?”

  “I am.”

  “Then win me a stuffed animal please, Commander. I promise to be very grateful.” She leaned in toward him and smiled.

  “Well, since you asked so nice.” He picked up one of the toy guns and went at it.

  Mica cheered as Deacon hit every one of those tin ducks. “Woo hoo, you won!”

  “Pick your prize,” the man running the booth said. Mica looked around and saw a little girl with long brown hair hanging in a braid and big round glasses on her chubby little face. She had been watching and clapping right along with Mica.

  “What do you think?” Mica asked. “The yellow bunny or—”

  “The pink cat.”

  “The pink cat, please,” Mica said to the man in the booth.

  He handed her the cat and she bent down and offered it to the little girl. “My name’s Mica and I’d really like for you to have this.”

  “My name’s Bernice and I don’t know if my mom will let me. I’m s’posed to be waiting here while Mama’s at the truck changing Billy. Mr. Bobby is s’posed to be watching me.”

  Mica looked at the man in the booth. “Mr. Bobby?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you think Bernice’s mom would mind if I gave her this cat?”

  “Not a bit,” came a voice behind Mica and one she recognized. She looked behind her and smiled.

  “Hi, Cody. Is this your little girl?”

  “She sure is.”

  “She’s a doll.” Mica handed Bernice the cat and wobbled a bit as Bernice threw her arms around Mica’s neck and hugged her.

  “Thank you, Miss Mica.”

  “You’re welcome, pretty girl.”

  Mica stood and saw Deacon smiling at her. She wasn’t sure why, but she liked it. She returned the smile, then looked at Cody. “Where’s your hubs?”

  “Setting up for the three-legged race.”

  “The three-legged race?” Mica whirled around toward Bernice. “I love the three-legged race.”

  “I can’t do it.” Bernice’s face went from happy to sad in a flash.

  “Why not?”

  “’Cuz mommy has to watch Billy and daddy has to be a judger.”

  “Well, how about if I be your partner?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. We’ll rock it, girlie.”

  “Yeah!” Bernice jumped up and down. “We’ll rock it. Can I, Mommy?”

  “If Miss Mica is sure.” Cody looked at Mica. “You don’t have to.”

  “What? Miss a chance to rule the three-legged race contest with my new bestie Bernice? No way. Is it time?”

  “Yep, we’re headed that way. Come on, Bernice, hold my hand.”

  “I wanna hold my friend’s hand.”

  “You got it.” Mica took Bernice’s hand and then offered her free hand to Deacon. He smiled and took it.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “And if I win, are you going to reward me with cotton candy?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  “Maybe.”

  “You hear that, Bernice? If we win, Mr. Deacon will buy us cotton candy.”

  “I love cotton candy. We has to win, Miss Mica.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  Within minutes, they were on the field, each of them with one leg in the sack, ready to race. Mica noticed that Cody and Deacon had been joined by a tall, handsome man she figured must be Cody’s husband since he was holding the baby, Cody’s sister Hannah along with Etta and JJ. She gave them a wave, then turned her attention to Bernice.

  “Okay, when they say go, you hold onto me as tight as you can.”

  “Okay. We needs to win, Miss Mica.”

  “We’re gonna try our best, little buddy.” Mica hoped she didn’t end up letting Bernice down. Not that she had a “you have to win at everything” philosophy. But today she needed to win for a sweet little girl.

  The horn blew, and the runners took off. Mica and Bernice made it about ten feet before they fell. She got them both on their feet and off they went. Halfway down the field, she realized that virtually no adult-child team was actually three-legging it. The adults were basically trying to carry the children.

  “Ah ha! Bernice, you think you can wrap both of your legs around mine?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool, then hang on, girl, because we are going to win this thing.” With Bernice wrapped around her leg like a constrictor and a handful of Bernice’s shirt in one hand, Mica took off in a lumbering gait.

  They passed a few teams, but still had three teams in front of them. Mica picked up the pace, tightening her hold on Bernice, and they drew into second place.

  “Go faster, Miss Mica, go faster!”

  Laughing between pants, Mica gave it all she had and literally fell face first across the finish line a split second ahead of the final team.

  Bernice untangled herself from Mica and bounced around excitedly. “We won, we won!” She turned to wave at her family. “Mommy, we won!”

  Mica rolled over and pushed herself up.

  “I help you.” Bernice offered her hand and helped Mica to her feet. They collected their prize, a plastic trophy and a cheap medal on a ribbon that Mica placed around Bernice’s neck. Then they went to meet their cheering section.

  “Look, Mommy, we won.” Bernice held up the trophy proudly.

  “You sure did.” Cody gave Bernice a hug, then Bernice flew into her dad’s arms.

  “Thanks, Mica.” Cody said. “Oh, and this is my husband, Jax.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mica, and thanks for helping our gal to the winner’s circle.”

  “Are you kidding? Didn’t you all see Bernice dragging me along? Poor thing, she must be exhausted. But—” She grinned at Bernice. “I bet that cotton candy Mr. Deacon is going to buy us will perk us right up, huh?”

  “Cotton candy! Can I, Mommy?”

  “Sure, why not. It’s not every day you win a medal.”

  Everyone headed for the concession stand. Mica worked her way over to Deacon. “Sorry. I don’t guess this is what you bargained for.”

  “It’s good.” He draped an arm over her shoulders.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Once Bernice and Mica had their cotton candy, Cody and her family headed toward the bandstand where Hannah
and the rest of her family sat on blankets on the ground. Mica and Deacon wandered around, watching the people.

  “Want some?” She held out the stick of swirly pink and blue spun sugar.

  “No, thanks, have at it.”

  Mica shrugged and tore off a big blob, shoved it into her mouth and stopped dead in her tracks.

  “What’s wrong?” Deacon asked.

  “This—oh ugh.” She looked around, spotted a trashcan, and made a dash for it. He caught up with her just as she spat out the glob of goo and dumped the rest into the trash.

  “Not as good as you remember?”

  “Not even close,” she admitted and shuddered. “Want to go sit on the grass and listen to the music?”

  “Sure.”

  They’d just started in the direction of the bandstand when she stopped again, this time in total surprise. “Now what?” Deacon asked.

  “Mathias.” She pointed. “I can’t believe it.”

  They waited until Mathias reached them. “You changed your mind.” Mica said. “I’m so glad.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Yes, you are. Come on. We’re going to sit and listen to the music.”

  “Okay.”

  Lucky for them, some people were packing up their lunch and vacating a picnic table. Mica spotted it and they took seats at the table. After some announcements from the pastor and the mayor, a singer was introduced by Cody’s mother Stella Sweet.

  “You all probably know my cousin’s daughter, Willow Griffin, since she’s been working with me at the bakery this last six months. Those of you who attend services with Pastor Benjamin know her voice from hearing her sing in the choir. Today, I’ve convinced her to share a solo with you, so please give a warm welcome to Willow Griffin.”

  A slim woman with the most glorious strawberry blonde hair walked onto the stage. “Thank you.” Her voice was so soft that even with the microphone it was hard to hear her. Mica wondered if anyone would hear her song.

  She immediately recognized the music when she heard the band start. Originally written by Leonard Cohen, it was one of her favorite songs. “Hallelujah.” A ton of people had recorded it and some were magnificent. It was, in her mind, an ambitious choice. Could this soft-spoken beauty pull it off?

  Within moments, Mica was blinking back tears. Willow had the voice of an angel, pure and clear and her range was amazing. Mica swiped at her eyes and smiled at Deacon as he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her up to his side.

  That’s when she noticed Mathias. She’d never seen that look on his face, but she understood it. He was spellbound. That captured Mica’s attention as much as the singer. She was certain she’d never seen her brother like this, and that reminded her of how much she didn’t know about Mathias.

  In all the years they saw one another only sporadically, had he ever been in love? Did he date? Was he a player? She had no idea. She’d never been introduced to a girlfriend and couldn’t remember either of them ever really discussing or asking about the other’s relationships.

  She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she jumped when the crowd started clapping and cheering for the singer. She clapped as well, trying to cover the fact that she’d been lost in her own thoughts for most of the performance.

  “She’s amazing,” Mica commented.

  “She’s good.” Mathias replied and stood. “Do they have funnel cake?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, see you later.”

  She watched him walk off, then turned to Deacon. “What would you think about going back to my place, having some pie and coffee, and sitting with me on the front porch swing?”

  “I’d say let’s go.”

  They’d walked the entire way back to her house in silence. It wasn’t until they were seated at the kitchen table with big slices of pie and fresh steaming cups of coffee before them that Deacon initiated the conversation. “Mathias seemed moved by the performance.”

  “He was mesmerized. I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that.”

  “He’s a good-looking man. I imagine he’s had his share of women.”

  “I guess, I honestly don’t know.” Mica sampled the pie. “Oh my God, this is good. Nellie Mae is right. This has to seduce you. But about Mathias. We—we didn’t see much of one another after I left the reservation. I mean, I got home as much as I could and I sent him money every week, but we didn’t really spend a lot of time with one another. Then he enlisted and the time between visits got longer.”

  “How old were you when you left?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “That’s young. How did you survive?”

  Mica knew this was a pivotal moment for her and Deacon and she had a choice. To tell the truth or come up with a lie. There was a lot she couldn’t tell him even if she wanted to, but she could tell a version of the truth.

  She put down her fork and picked up her coffee cup to cradle it between her hands. “I didn’t do it alone. And I didn’t leave alone. I left with a man who came to the reservation on business.”

  “You left with him?”

  “I did.”

  “And then?”

  “And he took me home with him. He took care of me, housed and clothed and fed me. He enrolled me in school and when I finished high school, he paid for me to go to college and get a degree.”

  “He did all of that just out of the goodness of his heart?”

  “No. Not at first.”

  “So he wanted something in exchange.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Seems that way. But he was an adult and you were a child.”

  “I was. He taught me to be a woman. And he fell in love with me.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “I cared for him. Deeply. And I was grateful.”

  “So your relationship wasn’t platonic.”

  “No. I gave him my virginity and my loyalty and I was faithful to him until he died.”

  “You did that out of gratitude?”

  “Absolutely. Deacon, you don’t know where I came from. He saved me. Most of the girls my age had already been scarred from physical abuse, treated like nothing more than a body to be used and cast aside. There were few opportunities for us to escape the reservation. Particularly when you were a kid with no mother and an alcoholic father.

  “He saved my life, so I honored the gift with my loyalty.”

  “That’s commendable.”

  She set her cup aside. “You sound surprised.”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Because honor is rare.”

  “Not so rare. Look at you.”

  “Me?”

  “You and I have been dancing around this attraction between us since the moment we met. We both know it’s there, but we can’t act on it until you decide if it would break your own code of honor. If it would be wrong for a man of fifty-two to take a forty-year-old woman as a lover.”

  “Age can make a big difference, Mica.”

  “I don’t deny that. But I’ve spent almost my entire life with people far older. The man who saved me was the same age asstopped being a child my father. But it didn’t matter. I became an adult and I learned to value people for who they are and their unique experiences. And I never really had a normal life, so in many ways, I stopped being a child the day my mother walked out on us and I became responsible for Matty.”

  Deacon nodded, slid his pie to one side, and reached across the table to take her hand. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe age isn’t that big a deal.”

  She smiled at him. “Maybe it isn’t.”

  “So where do we go from here? What do you want to do?”

  “Just to be in your company. Maybe sit in the porch swing?”

  “The swing?” He seemed surprised.

  “Yes. I’ve always wanted to sit on a porch swing with someone I care about on a Sunday afternoon. And if I’m lucky, steal a kiss or two.”

  He smiled and it lit
something inside her better than lust. Every moment she was in his company, she fell more under his spell. She wondered how long it would be before she was head over heels in love with the man.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mica saw Nellie Mae’s expression change and looked over her shoulder. They were sitting at a table in the diner and had just placed their lunch order. Until a moment ago, Nellie Mae had been all smiles. Now, a slight frown creased her forehead.

  Five women had just entered the diner, all elderly and all dressed to the nines. Mica recognized one of them, Netta Bloom. She’d seen Nellie Mae with Netta several times and knew they were fast friends. It struck her as odd that Nellie Mae seemed unhappy to see Netta.

  “Isn’t that your friend, Mrs. Netta and the ladies from your Red Hat Society?”

  “Yes, that’s them.”

  “Well why do you look so unhappy to see them?”

  Nellie Mae leaned in as close as she could to the table. “Those gals haven’t given me a moment’s peace since I showed them this beautiful bracelet you gave me. They want some gossip on you and I’m not having any part of that.”

  That answered a question for Mica. She’d heard more than one snide comment about Nellie Mae and her friend Netta. The Gossip Girls is what many people called them behind their backs. Maybe they were. A lot of people gossiped, and Mica had been prepared for gossip to arise about her and Matty.

  It was why she told Nellie Mae she was trying to seduce Deacon. She didn’t care if Nellie Mae repeated it. It was the truth and she wasn’t ashamed of being attracted to him. But to her surprise and pleasure, Nellie Mae valued their relationship more than the momentary attention she could have gained from talking about Mica behind her back.

  “Yoo hooo!!” Netta called out loudly. “Nellie Mae?”

  “You can’t just ignore her,” Mica said. “Besides, I think I may have a way to satisfy their thirst for gossip.”

  “Come join us, hon.” Netta called. “We made sure there’s room.”