We both stared across the field like it held the secrets to the universe.
Finally, his silent routine got to me. “You come here looking for an apology?”
He snorted. “Be waiting a long damn time since I know you ain’t sorry. And you’re just like your dad in that respect; he said false remorse is as bad as an outright lie.”
Dad. What would he think of my murderous intentions? Would he do the same thing if he were in my shoes? No. But he wouldn’t be sitting on his hands like Dawson was either.
“You plan on quitting and telling me to go to hell, Jake?”
“No. But I’d like a chance to say my piece, without you interrupting me like you always do.”
“Fine.”
“We’re opposites, Mercy. Always have been, I suspect we always will be. I know you think a man who doesn’t fight back-even when provoked-ain’t a real man.” He rubbed the heel of his hand on the exact spot where I’d shoved the gun barrel into his forehead. “I’m not gonna defend the way I was raised, and I don’t wanna argue with you about the hard-assed way Wyatt brung you up.”
I kept quiet.
“I’m tired of fighting you. No matter what happened in the past, or hell, even the other night when you showed up at my place armed and angry, we need to figure out a way to work together, not against each other, since it appears neither of us is going anyplace anytime soon.”
“True.” Jake had been forthright; he deserved the same from me. “But to be honest, the idea I can’t pick up and leave here whenever I want is suffocating me. It always has.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“So what do I do?”
“Come take a ride with me.”
“How’s that gonna help?”
“Maybe you won’t feel like you’re choking on your responsibilities when you have a clearer view of them.”
I squinted at him. “Do I need to get my gun?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m checking that old stock tank in the south section. Thought I reminded TJ to fill it, but with all that’s been going on… I ain’t sure if I did.”
A hot wind blew my hair across my face as I looked over my shoulder at the house. Sophie and a few other women were still there. Hope should be all right, but I didn’t feel comfortable passing her on to someone else.
Jake moved and laid his hand on my arm. “We won’t be gone long. I promise.”
“Okay, but I’m driving.”
“How’d I know you were gonna say that?” He tossed me the keys.
We settled in the ancient truck, Shoonga panting between us, water sloshing in the tank in the truck bed. After we were through the first gate, which Jake opened and closed, he harrumphed. “You’re driving just so you don’t gotta be on gate duty.”
“Yep. Pays to be the big boss.”
“So, you know where you’re going, boss?”
“I’m sure if I get it wrong you’ll be more than happy to correct me.”
A smile ghosted around his mouth.
Bumping along in the stifling heat had a cathartic effect. Somehow Jake knew I needed a reconnection to solitude and a reason to focus on the external problems rather than the internal ones, if only for a short while.
We drove in silence for fifteen minutes. I’d automatically followed the tire tracks without really paying attention to where we were headed. When I veered left to crest a small rise, I hit the brakes. I hadn’t been out in this section for years.
Memories arose of the hours and years Jake and I had spent just like this, driving around in the cab of a dirty truck, bound by circumstances and our love for the Gunderson Ranch. Testing the boundaries of friendship. The spring I’d turned seventeen we’d stopped circling each other and crossed the line from friends to lovers. Right here. On this very spot.
For the next year we weren’t “out” as a couple, although everyone suspected. The secrecy was partially because I was underage, partially because Jake worked for my father, but mostly because sneaking around heightened the relationship’s appeal. Accidental touches, stolen kisses, lingering looks seemed more meaningful when given and taken covertly. Even our couplings were quick-a frenzy we mistook as passion.
Dad disapproved of his oldest daughter and ranch foreman knocking boots. Rather than confronting us or offering up condemnation, he sicced Hope on us, demanding she accompany me everywhere. Nothing cools ardor faster than a twelve-year-old girl.
What bothered me was that Jake didn’t mind Hope attaching herself to me like a burr. He coddled her. He teased her. She gloried in it while I seethed because he gave her the sweetness he’d never given me. I began to resent Jake, Hope, my dad, and the entire situation. I cut them all out of my life after the pregnancy ended, and I lost everything I couldn’t admit I’d wanted.
In hindsight… my accusation the other night to Jake rang false. It wasn’t Hope who hadn’t stood a chance against succumbing to Jake’s charms; it was Jake who hadn’t stood a chance against Hope’s needs. And like it or not, I’d played a part in throwing them together. Did I have a right to my anger about their past when I’d been the one who’d walked way? From both of them?
Probably not, but it was still there.
“Mercy?”
I jumped. “What?”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Just waiting for directions from my navigator.”
“You don’t remember?”
Talk about a deceptive question. “I remember most everything, Jake. Sometimes… I just get a little lost.”
Pause. “We all do. There’s no shame in admitting it. Or asking for help to get back on track.” Jake pointed. “See the metal edge? It’s to the left at the bottom of the hill.”
“Got it.”
We rested side by side against the tailgate as we transferred one tank into the other, pretending to be mesmerized by sunbeams reflecting off the stream of precious water.
I squirmed. Sighed. Shuffled my feet.
Jake calmly said, “What?”
“So we okay then?”
“I reckon.”
A dust minitornado kicked up about a hundred yards in front of us. The herd bolted. Shoonga gave chase.
“’Cept for one thing.”
Figured. “What?”
“I saw you talking to Estelle. I know what you’re doing.”
I stayed mum.
“We both know you’re going after whoever killed Levi. You’re just like Wyatt that way. Relentless. I wanna help.” Jake cocked his head, gazing at me from beneath the brim of his beat-up hat.
He looked older; his eyes brimmed with pain. Even though I’d softened toward him slightly, I also realized I could use his grief to my tactical advantage. Would I ever stop thinking like a soldier?
You aren’t a soldier anymore.
I muttered, “Shut up,” to that matter-of-fact, unwelcome voice in my head.
“What?”
“Nothing. Look at this and tell me what you think.” I unfolded the Estelle’s list, and we scanned it:
Warrior Society members-
Albert said only seven candidates participated at the meetings to honor the Seven Sacred Rites
Judd Moser
Donald Little Bear
Bucky One Feather
Randall Meeks
Axel Rouillard
a couple of girls, don’t know their names
“Any names look familiar?” I asked.
“I know all of ’em. I avoid a couple of these families.” His dirty finger traced Moser and Little Bear’s names. “Bad news.” Jake pointed to the top line. “What’s this Warrior Society?”
I told him Levi’s take on it, and his frown deepened. “Didn’t Levi talk to you about it?”
He shook his head. “You seem to think Levi and I had a relationship. We didn’t, beyond me being the hired help.”
“Think you can find out more?”
“I’ll try. Axel’s dad, Bernie, does all the repairs for the ranch. I’ll talk to him. Who are you starting with?”