Page 39 of Shades of Mercy
“Mercy, my team found a terrorist in an underground maze of caves in the middle of a desert. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to find someone.”
“Thanks for that encouragement. Maybe it’s time you listened to your advice: relax and just be.”
“That brings me to a question, too. Does it take a lot of effort to be a smartass?”
“I was held in a room, crawled my way out, and was shot at, and I’m still not as uptight as you. And as far as me being a smartass, it takes one to know one,” she said and sashayed ahead of him, which he didn’t mind one bit.
*****
She stepped inside the bunkhouse and surveyed the kitchen. Although it was clean, it needed extensive repairs and a few coats of paint.
“Over here.” Jag motioned for her to join him at a large trunk that had seen better days. He opened the lid and rummaged inside, pulling out a hat that looked new. “I knew I saw this in here.”
She took it from him and slapped it onto her head. “How do I look? Can I fit in?” She struck a model pose.
His smile seeped into his eyes, making them twinkle. “The hat changes everything. No one will even notice the ugly boots.”
“Now that wasn’t very nice.” She stuck out her tongue at him.
“Here are a few other things,” he said, reaching back into the trunk and bringing out a pair of black muck boots, which he dropped onto the floor. “Think those will fit?”
She picked one up and checked the size. “Perfect. It was like it was meant to be.”
“Good, because you’ll need a pair. Things can get a bit muddy around here from all the rain.”
“How does the cook get muddy?” She raised a brow.
“Well, princess, when there’s an emergency on the ranch, we all come together and help. A few weeks ago, we spent the night searching for a horse in the rain. We take the good with the bad.” He closed the trunk lid. “Now, are you ready to see where you’ll be spending most of your time?”
“Absolutely. I’m very excited.” She smiled for good measure.
“There was a sparkle in your eye when I mentioned it.” He winked.
They walked in silence and were almost to the house when Mercy heard, “Hello!”
“Who’s that?” Mercy asked.
He looked across the yard. “Thatis Jess.”
The petite, silver-haired woman with large square glasses approached. “Who do we have here?” She looked Mercy up and down.
“I’m Mercy. Jag’s…cousin and the new cook.” Immediately, Mercy understood why Jag had warned her about Jess.
“Oh…very interesting. No one told me we got ourselves a new cook.” Jess’s nose crinkled. “Hello, Jag. Still whiskered, I see.”
“Good day, Jess. You look lovely as ever. Mercy just arrived this morning,” he said with a smile. Jess crossed her arms over her chest, sending her large bosom nearly to her chin. “Did Jag mention to you that I manage the house cleaning and the laundry?” Before Mercy could reply, Jess continued. “I don’t handle the kitchen. That’s the cook’s responsibility. I arrive every morning at exactly seven. Sharp. You’ll be responsible for the cleaning supplies. I always leave a list attached to the refrigerator.” She turned her beady glare back on Jag. “Through a process of elimination, I could identify your jeans. Remember, putting your initials on the tag is important, which makes my job much easier.” She clicked her tongue.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently.
“If you have any questions, young lady, please wait for me to finish my chores for the day. I prefer not to be disturbed, as it disrupts the flow.”
“Yes, I understand completely,” Mercy responded, feeling like she was back in sixth grade with her teacher, Mrs. Wissler, who earned the nickname “Mrs. Warrior.”
“I need to get back to my duties. I have a date with my TV later; I’m watching this series about zombies, and it's so riveting.” She turned and hurried across the grass.
Jag leaned in and said in Mercy’s ear, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You weren’t joking. She’s a little high-strung. Is she always like that?” Mercy felt a little intimidated.
