Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

  Amy shot Evie a killing glance, but all she did was smile and take Chloe over to the row of chairs along the wall. Then she turned and enfolded Lori in a big hug. “I’ve missed you, Tim and Miley must be keeping you really busy.”

  Amy remembered when Tim and Miley, Lori’s children, were born. Now they had to be what, eight or ten years old?

  Lori sniffed and then smiled. “Yeah, just normal mom stuff.”

  Evie, in the process of turning back to Chloe, stopped and faced her cousin with crossed arms. Uh oh, Amy recognized that look.

  “What’s going on? You and David used to come to the bar at least one Friday a month. I haven’t seen ya’ll in forever. And no bullshit,” Evie’s tone brooked no argument.

  Lori wiped her eyes. “I know. We’ve just been having some trouble you know? I’m sure it’s normal for all marriages.”

  “What? Is he cheating on you or something?”

  Lori paused, a little too long. Her gaze skittered sideways and she grabbed up her purse. “Listen, we’re fine. David just works a lot, you know? I’m being silly.”

  “Wait-”

  Lori lifted a hand and cut Evie off mid-sentence. “I told you. It’s fine. It was great to see you again. I’ll see if our babysitter can’t come over one weekend so we can go out together, okay?”

  Lori bolted for the door, leaving Evie, mouth open, staring after her. Amy approached her friend, “You can call her later. She looked pretty upset.”

  “I knew something was up when they cancelled the last two times I invited them over,” Evie said.

  “I hope she’s okay,” Amy said.

  “Well, I’ll find out.” Evie walked over to Chloe and sat down.

  Amber approached, her pace quick and efficient. Her dark brown hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun. Amy had always gotten along with Amber in high school, but that was years ago. She’d changed. Amber could have changed, too. Nervous energy zipped down Amy’s arms, into her hands and she clenched her fingers almost in reflex.

  Amber gave her a once over, and Amy felt every oil and dirt stain on her jeans grow. Ellie Mae meet Grace Kelly.

  And then Amber smiled, and her whole face transformed. “While I can’t say you’ve taken the best care of yourself, you have, and always have had, a natural beauty I’ve envied.”

  “What?” Okay, so not the best response, but Amber’s words had taken her for a loop. Amy finally allowed a quick glance down, just to make sure she was talking about the same person.

  Amber surprised her and pulled Amy into a hug, whispering in her ear, “And still the sweet personality to match.” Amber stood back, holding on to Amy’s hands. “I’m so sorry about Shane. How have you been doing?”

  Amy cleared her throat, “Fine.”

  “I’m glad you finally decided to pay me a visit. I’ve been dying to get my hands back on your hair since your wedding.”

  Her wedding. And here she was, getting fixed up for another man. Not her husband. Amy’s gaze dropped to her boots like quicksand, her stomach sinking with it. “Um, thanks.”

  “Oh Lordy, my mouth has got me in trouble again. How can I be so callous to talk about that after what happened? I am so sorry.”

  Amy glanced up to see Amber, red faced and mortified. “It’s okay, you’re right. I’ve been neglecting myself. Do you really think you can fix this?” Amy swept a hand down her torso, trying to put her at ease.

  The doorbell chimed before Amber could answer. “She’s not a miracle worker.”

  Mrs. Oralee choked on her sweet tea and Mrs. Trudy set up to pounding her best-friend’s back. Amber spun around, her mouth open. The blood leeched from Amy’s extremities.

  Mavis Carter sauntered in, her voice as venomous as a rattle snake. As easy as she pleased, she went to the mirror and primped hair so over-sprayed a high wind wouldn’t knock it loose. That is, if the wind dared to mess with her in the first place. Amy met Mavis’s gaze in the mirror reflection.

  Mother of God. Evie rose from the waiting chairs next to the window, Chloe on her hip. Amy signaled for her to stay back. If she was going down, she was doing it alone.

  “Mavis.”

  “Amy, I thought that was your truck. Or should I say, my son’s truck.” Mavis spun around slow, like in a movie. Amy straightened her legs and squeezed her fists at her side.

  Amy felt the heat rise and spared a glance to the gossip queens in their thrones. Oralee and Trudy were sucking back their tea like they needed it to survive, their gazes locked on Amy and Mavis. Her plan to fly under the radar came crashing down like an earthquake in Cali.

  “Mrs. Carter, can I help you?” Amber spoke tentatively, the tension in the air thicker than Mississippi mud.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact you can. You can throw this piece of cheating white trash out of your salon.”

  A chorus of gasps sounded and Amy barely suppressed a cringe. The gleam in Mavis’s eyes was already triumphant. And why shouldn’t it be? She had the perfect audience for Amy’s social execution. She could practically feel the noose slide around her neck.

  “Cheating?” Mrs. Trudy said.

  “Caught her myself.” Mavis’s chin lifted another degree.

  “That’s a lie.” Evie was at Amy’s side. Bless her for her defense but Amy wanted to crawl into a hole.

  “Of course you would say that. But you weren’t there. I caught her red handed.”

  Mrs. Oralee approached the small circle and cleared her throat, “Maybe I’m missing something, but when exactly did you catch her?”

  “Saturday morning. In Shane’s own house, with Ranger James.”

  “Mavis honey, I don’t know how to put this delicately, so I’ll just say it. Shane is dead. How is it that Amy cheated on him two days ago?” Mrs. Trudy asked that question.

  Amy felt a small measure of relief. A very, very small measure.

  “You always were a bit thick Trudy. What do you think? Her and Ranger started sleeping together before Shane died.”

  Amy gasped this time. “That’s not true. I never cheated on Shane.”

  “Like anyone in this town will believe you.” Mavis turned to Amber and said, “If you want to keep half of your customers you better kick this hussy out. Otherwise, I’ll have to make sure all my acquaintances take their hair elsewhere.”

  Amber stiffened beside her and Amy felt the first twitch of anger rise. Mavis didn’t care who got caught in the explosion as long as she took Amy down. “Don’t you dare threaten her. This is between you and me.”

  “That’s right. I’ll make sure the whole town knows how toxic you are too,” Mavis said.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “It ain’t got anything to do with feelings girl. You never deserved my son.”

  “That may be true, but Shane wasn’t perfect. He had his faults too. But I didn’t betray him. Ranger would never betray him. He was Shane’s best friend.”

  Mavis snorted, “Yeah, despite my attempts to keep them apart. Those James boys are trash, just like you. My Shane should have had better. But no, you sunk your claws in deep and then he had to join the military to get away from you.”

  “Mavis Carter.” Mrs. Trudy threw a hand over her chest and sucked in a breath.

  “Don’t you pull that high and mighty act with me. You and Oralee might head up the Methodist church, but I got every Baptist in town on my side.”

  “You’re evil. I’m surprised God lets you walk through the church doors,” Evie said.

  “So says the bar junkie. Serving alcohol is a sin.”

  “Then it must really get in your craw that your husband is in my bar every Friday night.”

  “Liar.” Mavis’s eyes practically bulged from her round face.

  Evie smirked, “I don’t have to lie. You can ask anybody who comes out on a Friday night.”

  Mavis sputtered, for once unable to deny the facts.

  “The girl is right. Rand is one of C.W.’s best customers,” Mrs. Trudy said. C.W., Evie�
�s grandpa, co-owned the Wharf with his granddaughter.

  “You can lie all you want, but it doesn’t negate the fact that Amy cheated on Shane.” Mavis was fast turning a dark shade of red. She pointed her finger at Evie and Chloe. “Chloe isn’t even Shane’s daughter.”

  Amy felt the noose cinch so tight around her neck the air couldn’t get to her lungs. Was she going to stand here and let Mavis talk about her daughter?

  Amy ripped the noose off. “That’s a lie. The fact that you can say something so malicious about your own granddaughter speaks to the kind of person you are. Hate festers in you. It sure is a good thing you’re in church so much, cause you need to be on your knees every day, praying for your soul.”

  “You can’t talk to me like that.”

  “I damn well can.”

  “You just wait. I’ll make sure Rand cuts you off today. No more business. You're ruined.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t need anything from your family.”

  “Now wait a minute. Mavis are you trying to say that girl ain’t Shane’s?” Mrs. Oralee pointed at Chloe.

  “Exactly.”

  “Then how come her eyes are the same green as every Carter in this county?” Mrs. Trudy said.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Trudy stood her ground. “Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m talking about. Ever since your first husband ran off with that waitress you turned into a spiteful witch.”

  Mavis gasped but Mrs. Trudy continued on, “You use people, that’s the only reason you have any power in this town. Everyone is afraid of you. I’m gonna tell you something though. I know this girl didn’t cheat on your son. Just like I can see plain as day Chloe is his.”

  “Clear as a damn picture,” Oralee chimed in.

  “And in case you missed roll call last Sunday, we got twice the members in our church as yours. If you pull this girl’s credit from Rand’s store, I will make sure every soul in this town knows your husband keeps the liquor store in business. Even if I have to personally go door to door.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me.” Trudy crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’ll help,” Oralee cackled and clapped her hands together.

  Mavis took a step back, her composure slipping. “You can’t threaten me.”

  “Oh, that’s no threat. That’s a promise.”

  Mavis’s eyes bounced from woman to woman. She took another step back. If word got out about Rand to the church crowd, Mavis’s position of power would sink faster than a brick in water.

  “You did this,” Mavis pointed at Amy.

  “I did nothing but try to live my life. Your spite did this. You never wanted Shane to have anyone but yourself.”

  “I’ll make you regret this, Amy.” Mavis backed all the way to the door.

  Amy lifted her chin and gave Mavis a small smile. “I’ll pray for you.”

  After a strangled growl, Mavis fled, the doorbell chiming behind her. Amy let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been hiding.

  “Holy mother, that felt good.”

  Amy turned to see Oralee and Trudy giving each other a high five. “That woman has needed a put down for years.”

  “About time we stood up to her. She isn’t anything but trouble,” Mrs. Trudy said.

  Amy grabbed Chloe off Evie’s hip, needing a distraction from the close call. That situation could have gone so much worse.

  “Can you believe it Trudy? I said a curse word.”

  “I’m sure the lord will forgive you for it, if anyone in this town deserved it, it was her.” Mrs. Trudy hugged Amy. “And if I may say so, it’s about time you started dating again. And a man as good looking and good hearted as Ranger James too.”

  Amy grabbed onto the older lady’s arm, tears prickling her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “That’s right, girl. Don’t want to end up pining after your man for fifty years like this one.” Mrs. Oralee elbowed Trudy, and then checked her perfectly permed grey hair in the mirror.

  “If you recall, I am not pining anymore.” Mrs. Trudy huffed then turned to Evie. “What’s your grandpa up to today?”

  “He’s fishing, I believe, with Mr. Smith,” Evie said.

  “And this sweet girl.” Trudy kissed Chloe on the cheek. “Why haven’t I seen her in church?”

  Amy’s face heated. She hadn’t been to church since Shane’s death.

  “Leave her alone, can’t you see she’s trying to get ready for a date?” Mrs. Oralee patted Amy on the shoulder.

  “Tell Cyprien I’ll be expecting his phone call at five o’clock sharp,” Trudy said.

  Evie stifled a laugh and agreed to convey the message. An odder couple Amy couldn’t fathom, but for some reason, Mrs. Trudy set her hat after C.W. Videl, Evie’s grandpa, and the two had been courting for months.

  “Sinful.” Mrs. Oralee muttered.

  “Now, Oralee, I’ve caught you staring at James Harlow in church for the past three months,” Mrs. Trudy said.

  “You’re getting the dementia. Come on, let’s let these young girls get dolled up. I want to catch Rhetta before she stops making her fried pies for the afternoon.”

  “If you can forgive the drama, I’m ready.” Amber stood behind the swivel chair.

  “Fried pies it is. Can’t hurt to add a few more curves to my girlish figure. C.W. swears he likes curves.”

  Amy grabbed Trudy before she could leave and pulled her into a swift hug. “Thank you for that.”

  Mrs. Trudy patted her and stepped back, “She’s been needin’ a set down for quite some time. The good Lord just presented me the opportunity with which to do it.”

  With a wave goodbye, Trudy and Oralee left, and Amy headed to the chair. “Is this going to hurt?”

  Amber spun her around to face the mirror, “Not if you hold still.”

  Chapter 18

  Amy wiggled her freshly painted toes in her brand new sandals and placed her muddy boots in the back of Hunter’s borrowed truck. Her feet felt...lighter. After a highlight, cut, mani and pedi, Evie in all her good wisdom, had brought Rosalee over for a new wardrobe. Rosalee Cosas owned Swank, the newest trendiest boutique in town. Amy bought not one but two new outfits, one of which she wore right now, along with matching shoes and accessories. And, on the side, she’d purchased a certain special outfit for Ranger’s eyes only.

  She was now refreshed and rejuvenated. She’d been dreading the confrontation with Mavis, letting her fear hold her back for so long, but now she was free. Trudy and Oralee had her back. If there was one thing guaranteed to keep Mavis’s fat mouth shut, it was her husband’s closet alcoholism.

  Amy buckled a sleeping Chloe into the car and climbed behind the wheel, ready to take on the world and all the Mavis Carters in it.

  Ready to take on the one task she had avoided more than her monster-in-law. “I think I’m ready to go through Shane’s belongings.”

  Evie reached across the console and grabbed her hand. “Are you sure? After all this excitement?”

  “Yes, you've helped me see that I’ve not only been hiding from myself, but I've been avoiding moving on. I think I have to do this before I can completely close the lid on that box, and move past Shane without baggage. Without reservation. I want to give me and Ranger a real chance.”

  “Let's get to it then. Where are we headed?”

  “U-Store-It.” Amy had been so shell-shocked after the funeral, she let Ranger handle moving all of Shane's belongings back home. He stored them in the heated and cooled storage sheds in town, safe and secure for her when she was ready. Amy pulled out onto the highway, biting her lip. Even then Ranger had anticipated her needs.

  A few minutes later they pulled into the storage parking lot, the lines of orange and tan metal units lined up five rows deep. Amy reached into her purse and pulled the key from one of the inside pockets. Thirteen. Shane’s football jersey number. She turned right, in between the first and second row, and par
ked at the third unit down. Thirteen. The number glared down at her from above a large orange garage type door.

  Another door she had to open. Would this one change her life for the better?

  “You sure about this? His stuff isn't going anywhere, we can always come back another day,” Evie said.

  Amy steeled herself, straightened her spine. “No. It has to be today. If I don't find a way to move on I'll be stuck in this... this... I don't know what to call it. I'm ready to move on with an open heart and open mind. It's not fair to Ranger that I keep holding back.”

  Amy grabbed the door handle.

  “How about I stay in the car with Chloe and let her sleep and give you a minute alone?” Evie said.

  Amy nodded, unable to talk around her knotted up throat, and exited the truck, shutting the door quietly behind her. She stood before the shed, key in hand, feeling like David ready to face Goliath.

  I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

  Amy repeated the mantra over and over as she knelt on the asphalt and unlocked the door. The door snapped up, rolling with efficiency, and Amy almost fell backward. Instead, she gathered her willpower, stood and took the first step inside. The room was small, no bigger than eight by ten feet, and empty except for one black box.

  Amy took another step, her legs as wobbly as a loose tire on a gravel road. All that remained of her husband’s belongings from overseas were packed into a box the size of a trunk.

  She approached with caution born of fear and grabbed the lock. A lock for which she had no key. The walls shrunk, the ceiling lowered. Cold metal walls. Cold concrete floors. Sterile. Unfeeling. Uncaring.

  The lock clattered from her shaking fingers. Not here. She couldn’t go through his private belongings here. Amy spun and ran to the truck, yanking the door open. “I can’t do this here. It’s not right. Can we take it back to your house, let me open it there?”

  “You okay?” Evie peered at her like she was losing it, and maybe she was, all her bravado from earlier dissipating in the afternoon sun.

  “Yes, I don’t want to do it here.”

  “Well of course you can. The guys won’t be home anytime soon. We’ll have the house to ourselves.”