Page 34 of Night of Mercy

“Not what. Who.” She pointed at the coffin on the right. “Iris Hildebrand was in line to inherit an enormous fortune from her family back east. When she refused to marry the man her guardian picked out for her, he had her declared insane and carted off to an asylum on the opposite side of the country. Here.” She pointed at the floor for emphasis. “Only a few miles from what eventually became Heart Lake. Whether by chance or Divine intervention, we may never know, but this deputy,” she pointed to the coffin on the left, “intercepted her carriage on its way to the asylum, rescued her, fell in love with her, and married her.”

Gil gave a huff of disbelief. “What happened to the money?”

“I don’t know. One thing’s for sure, this woman never saw a penny of it.”

“That’s quite a story.” He looked as astonished as she’d felt when she first read the letters.

It was only a matter of filling in a few more gaps for him. “According to the letters, the neighboring Comanche tribe took Iris and Jesse in and hid them from the authorities who came looking for them. From that day forward, Jesse Hawling stayed in the shadows, brokering horse trades on behalf of the Comanche, who captured and trained the wild Mustangsroaming the area. It was a profitable endeavor that turned Heart Lake into a thriving rodeo community. Soon, folks were traveling from all over the region to watch the rival Remington and Hawling cowboys pitted against each other in everything from horse racing, to cattle roping, to bull riding. Stories were manufactured by both founding families to fuel the rivalry. Stories that eventually drowned out the search for the missing Iris Hildebrand. Eventually, her case grew cold, and she and her husband were allowed to live out their days in Comanche territory.”

When Bliss finished her tale, silence settled over the lab.

There was a long pause before Gil finally spoke. “Love always finds a way, doesn’t it?” His voice was low and husky.

She gave him a sharp look, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was staring off into the distance.

No, my dear Gil. Sometimes it doesn’t.She glanced at her watch to see how much time she had left before her hotel shuttle arrived.Ten minutes. It was probably already on its way. She quickly gathered her folders into her briefcase.

Gil snapped out of his reverie. “Where are you going?”

“To my hotel to check out. I’ve got a flight to catch.”

“You’re leaving?”

“It’s what I do, Gil.” She ignored the hoarse edge to his question. He’d been through a lot in the past few days, weeks, and months. His show of emotion was understandable. She knew it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d soon be gone. For good. This time she wasn’t coming back.

She shuddered when his hand closed over hers on the briefcase. “I’ll drive you.”

She let go of the handle, nodding mutely. She didn’t trust her voice.

He tucked something soft into her hand. She lifted it to stare uncomprehendingly at the white handkerchief she was holding. “What’s this for?”

“Your tears.” He strode ahead of her to hold open the door.

She stumbled past him, dabbing at her eyes. “Probably reacting to some chemical in the lab,” she mumbled.

“No doubt.” His voice was so kind it was all she could do to keep from breaking down right then and there.

It was going to be an awfully damp flight to Peru. With the way she was feeling right now, she might weep the entire way there.

CHAPTER 6: MISSING HEIR

News of the fictitious feud spread. Television stations all over the region picked up on the sensational tidbit. News anchors and talk show hostesses marveled about how the commerce of an entire town had been built on such a carefully crafted legend. There were even rumors about the story being made into a movie.

Since Prim was neither a Remington nor a Hawling, the story didn’t rock her world the way it did a lot of the other citizens in Heart Lake. She was simply a spectator, enjoying the show from the sidelines. That’s why she was so surprised when a prominent news organization reached out to her a few weeks later via a voicemail.

We want to hear your side of the story!

They offered a few potential interview dates and times. She stared aghast at the caller ID, wondering if it was a joke.

Over the next several days, they called again and again. She let every instance go to voicemail. She had no comments to share about the century-old feud ricocheting through her small town. She’d moved here for the peace and quiet. She just wanted to be left alone.

April blew into town on a Monday, bringing a wave of warmth and unseasonable dryness. All the farmers were praying for rain.

Prim fanned her face as she loaded up her car for the day. She always kept her medical bag with her. In the event of an emergency, she liked having quick-grab things on hand like tape, gauze, and bandages. She tossed her lunch bag into the passenger seat after it, an insulated bag in her favorite shade of pink. It was way too expensive to eat out every day, nor did she have the time to spare for that. Most days, she was lucky to scrape up ten to fifteen minutes for a lunch break.

Last but not least, she tossed her search and rescue training gear into the trunk. She never knew what Shep was going to plan next for their training, so she’d learned to come prepared for anything and everything. Her stash of supplies was quickly growing. Shep had given her some of the items. The rest she’d purchased online. Her backpack now contained basic climbing gear, a hard hat, several mylar thermal blankets, a collapsible pole with a hook on the end, light sticks, flairs, non-perishable snacks, and a foldable mesh stretcher that she clipped to the outside.

If you ever get stranded, I’m the person you want beside you.

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