Page 68 of Shades of Mercy
Mercy pulled away from the window. “Yes, he is, but he’s also incredibly closed off.”
“He has reason to be, my darling. It was Abby who started the community-lend-a-hand efforts. Of course, she and I were younger then, but she saw ways the community could help each other. Come with me, I’d like to show you something.”
Mercy followed Isla into a small room filled with black-and-white photos. “This is what I used to love doing: taking photos of nature.”
“These are beautiful. They should be displayed at a gallery.”
“Here is my favorite one.” Isla pulled the cover off a blown-up portrait. It was of Abby from years ago, sitting at a window, staring out. The sunlight grazed her delicate features, and the photo captured all the love the photographer had for her.
Tears filled Mercy’s eyes.
She gave the photograph one last look and searched for Isla, who had opened the veranda doors and was sitting outside. Mercy stepped outside and scanned the overflowing roses that decorated the veranda. The spot was truly a small haven.
“Have a seat, my dear.”
“It’s so lovely out here.”
“Abby loved her roses. I always told her they were her first loves, and I was her second. She wasn’t my first love either.” Isla lovingly touched a yellow rose bud that climbed a trellis. “I dated Raymond Truman. He was a kind fellow, and I did care for him, but when Abby came along, I found my true love. I was eighteen and she was nineteen. It didn’t make sense to me at first, but once we started spending time together, it did. Love is delightful, but it’s also a pain in the patootie. When you find it, and you know that person’s the one, never let it go. Hold on tight. Those feelings are more precious than all the money in the world.”
“There you ladies are.” Jag came around the corner. He was sweaty, but he’d never looked better. “Thank you for bringing Mercy along today,” Isla said. “I’m afraid she’ll never come back because I bored her with my stories, but she is a delight.”
“I’d love to come back,” Mercy piped in. “I enjoyed visiting.”
Chapter Twenty
After delivering a box of baby shower decorations to Bryar that were mistakenly delivered to the farmhouse, Mercy scanned the street to see if Jag had returned to pick her up. He said he had to run an errand and would be back in a jiffy.
She spotted his truck up the street, stopped at a red light.
She heard the revving of an engine. looking up in time to see a car speeding toward her on the narrow street. As it got closer, she realized it was coming at her. She couldn’t move as if her feet were frozen to the street, watching in horror. Then logic took hold, and she jumped onto the sidewalk. She landed hard, but the vehicle had missed her.
The white car disappeared into the alley.
The next thing she heard was the skidding of tires and the thudding of boots hitting the concrete. The sun was in her eyes as she looked up to see who’d come to her rescue.
“Are you okay?” Jag asked as he crouched down next to her.
“I-I’m fine. Did you see the car that almost hit me?”
He shook his head. “A car almost hit you?” He scanned the street.
“It just missed me.”
“Let me help you up,” he said, helping her to her feet, supporting her weight against his body. “Is anything broken?” he asked.
“N-no. I don’t think so. Just sore. My hands, they’re a bit scraped up.”
“Let’s get you in the truck.”
Once she was seated, he hurried to the driver’s seat and pulled the truck over to the curb. “Thank God you’re okay.”
She shook her head. Her adrenaline was pumping fast. “Two near deaths in a month are not good.”
“Did you get a look at the car or maybe the driver?”
“It was white. That’s all.”
“I should never have left you.” He slammed the heel of his hand into the steering wheel.
