each step. In her previous life, things had been so impossible! And now, at her very first try at finding a job, she was found acceptable. In fact Dr. Grant said “highly qualified”! It was beyond her imagination. She had tears running down her cheeks before she even realized it. She wiped at them impatiently.
When she was halfway across the beach, she stopped and looked out past the big rocks to the Pacific. There was a boat out there, a mere spec on the horizon. Sarah’s brother was on his paddleboard and it appeared he had a young boy along for the ride. The sun was high and bright; the air almost balmy. She passed a young mother with two small children playing on the beach, a stroller and a little cooler beside her towel. Mercy would like that—to be able to play and read and romp on the beach under a warm summer sun.
And she thought, God, if I’m lucky enough to make a life for myself and my child in this small place, I swear I will never complain about anything again!
She was halfway up the beach stairs when she saw him again. Spencer was just coming down. As he made to pass her on the stairs, he frowned and stopped. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. “You all right?”
He must have noticed her tears. She wiped her cheeks and smiled a little. “I got a job,” she said in a faint whisper. She cleared her throat and tried that again. Louder. Stronger. “I got a job!”
He smiled at her. “Good for you. Where?”
“In the doctor’s office. Full-time!”
He just laughed, silently.
She pushed past him and ran the rest of the way up the stairs and into the bar. There was just Cooper behind the bar, putting things away. She knew her smile was huge and her cheeks bright with excitement. “Where is Rawley?”
“Well, now. Looks like that job interview went well,” Cooper said with a smile. “They’re in the kitchen. Rawley is making bread with Mercy—a first. I hope she’s taken charge. He’s never done that before.”
With a laugh, she darted into the kitchen. With a stool propped up to the counter, Mercy was kneading green dough, rolling it out and making snakes. “What are you two doing?” she asked.
“Mercy said she was good at making bread and pie crust,” Rawley explained. “I thought green would be fun.” He wiped his hands. “How’d it go?”
“I got it,” she said in a near whisper. “I start tomorrow. And unless there’s some problem I don’t know about, I can share Dr. Grant’s babysitter. He’s a single father with two little kids, so he knows it can get complicated for single parents.”
“Good for you,” he said. “How’s ’at feel?”
“Oh, Rawley, you can’t imagine.” Her eyes teared up again. “All weekend I prepared myself for the inevitable—that he wouldn’t find me qualified. Or even that I wouldn’t look the part. You just can’t imagine...”
He turned to grab his coffee. “I reckon I can imagine.”
“I should...ah...look around for a place of my own,” she said.
He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a half smile. “That so? Last time I looked, you didn’t have no truck full o’ furniture.”
“Maybe there’s something furnished,” she said. “We don’t need much.”
“You do that if you want to, but it ain’t necessary. I got used to the two of you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were cousins. Family. Ain’t hardly had any family. My mother, she passed when I was barely a man. I had no brothers or sisters and, don’t tell anyone, but there ain’t never been cousins. And there sure weren’t no woman who could stand a crazy old vet like me.”
Devon just laughed. She put a hand on his arm, bringing a slight blush to his cheeks. “You’re the furthest thing from crazy I know.”
“Is ’at right? Well, don’t tell Cooper. He thinks he’s doing me a good deed, keeping me in the bar like this, giving me work because I’m an odd one.”
“You’re not,” she said. “And I think Mercy loves
Henry James, Ann Radcliffe, J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Gertrude Atherton