Page 43 of Shades of Mercy
“I’ll grab the bowls and take the pot to the table,” Jag offered.
“Thank you.” She felt out of her comfort zone after being held in his arms. She didn’t take her eyes off him as she cut the pan of cornbread and placed the squares into a bread basket.
Carrying it to the table, she started to walk away, and Bones stopped her. “Aren’t you going to join us?”
Her gaze naturally went to Jag, who was busy eating. “I-I don’t know if I’m supposed to. Am I allowed?” she said.
“Who’s going to stop you?” Atlas laughed.
“We’ll be offended if you don’t,” Bear said around a mouthful of cornbread.
“There’s an empty chair right here.” Bones jumped up and pulled the chair next to him out for her.
Bones spooned some chili into a bowl and placed it in front of her. The basket of cornbread was passed around the table, and she took a piece, biting into the warm bread. She almost choked. Although the top was golden, the bottom was black. Glancing around the table, no one seemed to notice but her.
Embarrassment filled her as she laid the bread aside.
“This is the best chili I’ve ever had,” Jag said, already going in for seconds.
“Save me some of that,” Bear muttered.
“The cornbread is just like I like it,” Atlas said with a big smile.
Moisture filled Mercy’s eye. Although the chili was good, she doubted it was the best Jag ever had, but she valued how each of the men wanted to make her feel appreciated. Suddenly, she was overcome with a feeling of…home. Right here amongst burly, rough men who were respectful and kind.
During dinner, amongst theclankingandclatteringof silverware hitting bowls, there was chatter about the day’s work. Although Mercy didn’t understand much of it, she enjoyed listening to the easy banter.
“Where are you from?” Crow asked. She’d learned that he didn’t talk a lot.
“Denver,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
“You’re a city girl,” Arrow chimed in.
“I guess you could say that.”
And then just as quickly, the crew started discussing the time Atlas got arrested for a minor indecent exposure offense in Denver.
She half listened because her attention kept wandering to Jag. He hadn’t said a word during dinner. He seemed intently focused on his food.
Bowls scraped clean, the men began to disperse. She thought Jag would leave, too. Instead, he lingered and helped her clear the table. “You don’t have to stay. I’m sure you’re tired,” she told him as he began loading the dishwasher.
“We’re in this together. I’d wait and walk you to the cottage anyway. I might as well make myself useful.”
Together, they finished the dishes, wiped down the table and countertops, and left the farmhouse for the cottage. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jag asked.
“It wasn’t at all. Bryar is nice, and she helped me feel more confident that I can do this. I believe she and I will become close friends. I just felt guilty for not revealing the whole truth.”
“The whole truth?”
“She realized I don’t have experience as a cook, but she assumed you persuaded me to come so you wouldn’t have to tackle the responsibilities.”
“Keep in mind, you’re not lying to anyone. In some situations, we must keep details from others.”
“I understand.” She didn’t see the hole in the path and almost tripped, but Jag caught her.
His fingers pressed into her arm, sending goosebumps down her skin, reminding her of how he had held her when they were in the pantry. “Here, take my elbow.” He crooked his arm. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“It seems you just keep on saving me from breaking my neck.” And she wished he’d either stop getting her heart pumping or get it beating faster.
