Page 9 of A Surefire Love
Fine. Given Blaze’s heels, it would’ve been dangerousanyway. One Astley sister with an injured foot was already one too many. “Are you game for a three-legged race?”
Mercy shrugged and slipped off the stool. With their arms locked around each other, they made slow progress. They hadn’t even made it past the bar and into the dining room before Mercy tipped. Blaze stopped her fall, but Mercy must’ve put down her injured foot because she cried out in pain.
“Please, Blaze. Let me help,” Anson said, close behind. She’d never heard him beg before.
Between the hopping and Mercy’s cry, all the customers watched them. They’d only made it fifteen feet before encountering a problem. They were bound to face many more before they reached the vehicle. How much pain would Blaze’s stubbornness subject Mercy to? And how little would the town think of her for being too proud to accept help?
“He apologized.” Pain etched her little sister’s face, but forgiveness softened her eyes. True to her name, Mercy would forgive Blaze for making her pogo out to the car, but she’d also already forgiven Anson.
The man in question rounded Mercy. Hands on his thighs, he dipped his tall frame to her level. “Would it be all right if I carried you?”
Mercy’s bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as her brown eyes slid to Blaze.
Still hunched over, Anson fixed his attention on her. “If you agree, I will not take it as a sign that you forgive me for earlier.”
“It’s okay with me,” Mercy whispered.
Anson waited until Blaze sighed and stepped back. Onceshe did, he placed one arm behind Mercy’s back. “Nice and easy, okay?”
“’Kay.” She latched an arm around his neck.
“Here we go.” In one smooth movement, he hooked his other arm under her knees and swept her up. With a lift of his chin, he motioned Blaze ahead.
Free of Mercy’s weight, she crossed the dining room. She’d never considered The Depot especially big, but this would’ve been quite a distance to hobble. She pushed open the doors and waited for her entourage to catch up.
She stilled at the unexpectedly sweet sight of Anson with Mercy cradled in his arms. There was something striking about a man using his strength for good. Her and Mercy’s fathers hadn’t done so for them, yet Anson had pleaded for the opportunity.
He pressed a shoulder against the door, holding it so she could move ahead.
She scurried on. She wasn’t going to start admiring him. Except, as they navigated the steps outside, she wondered how she and Mercy would’ve handled them without him.
Marissa had the car waiting. She left the driver’s door open as she circled the vehicle to meet them. “Need anything else?”
Blaze shook her head. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Let me know how it turns out.” Marissa rubbed her shoulder, then went back inside.
Next to the rear car door, Anson lowered Mercy to her good foot. After she dropped to the seat and drew the seatbelt across herself, Anson reached for the front door as if to get in the passenger seat.
“Ah …” Was he planning to ride along? “Thanks for the help.”
He halted. “How are you going to get her into the hospital?”
“Don’t they usually have wheelchairs by the doors?” She’d seen them there when she’d taken her mom in.
“Oh. Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and the streetlights in the parking area hit his flexing triceps. He didn’t walk away, but he didn’t say anything either.
“Thanks again.” She took shelter inside the car and closed the door.
Mercy’s voice rose from behind her. “That was nice, wasn’t it? He picked me up like a sack of potatoes!” She chattered on like she always did when she was nervous, flustered, or excited.
It was a wonder the quirk hadn’t kicked in while she’d been in Anson’s arms. More than a wonder. A blessing. Blaze couldn’t have Anson’s head getting any bigger than it already was.
“I heard he was almost famous. Like, because he was so good at basketball. What’s D1 mean?”
Blaze sighed as she shifted into drive. “Division I.”
“So, like, the best college?”
