Free Love Mercy by Earlene Fowler Page A

way loose from her braid, causing tiny curls to form around her heart-shaped face. She appeared to be the same age as Love’s granddaughter, but the two girls seemed as far apart in looks and attitude as Mel was from the actress Reese Witherspoon.
    “My daddy’s a cop,” Maisie replied. “He says, ‘Once a cop, always a cop.’ ”
    Benni walked around the corner in time to hear Maisie’s statement. “Amen to that. Though I have to admit, since Gabe retired, he’s becoming a little less suspicious of every person who looks crosswise at him.”
    Mel didn’t answer, just kept currying the horse’s broad back.
    “Do you still carry a gun?” Maisie asked Mel.
    Mel glanced over at Benni and arched one eyebrow. For a cop’s kid, this one was awfully snoopy.
    “Hey, Maisie,” Benni said. “Would you go inside and help Dove pack up the pumpkin bread for Mel and the others? You know my gramma. She’ll probably be trying to do it herself, and she’s not supposed to use that arm.”
    “In other words, quit asking questions and get lost.” Maisie gave Mel a wide grin and wiped her hands down her tight Wranglers. “Sorry if I’m a pain. Daddy says I should have come equipped with a snap on my mouth.” She gave a high giggle.
    Maisie had an infectiously cheerful way about her, an innocence that Mel envied. She exuded the easy confidence that a person seemed to acquire only if they’d been cherished early in their life. Mel wanted to dislike the girl for it, but instead, she found herself smiling back.
    “No harm, no foul,” Mel said, tossing the currycomb into the metal bucket. She pulled a hoof pick from her back pocket.
    “Thanks! See you later.” Maisie ran toward the back door of the ranch house, giving a little skip every third step or so.
    “She’s a good kid,” Benni said. “She reminds me of myself at that age.”
    “Well, lucky you.” Mel felt a twinge inside. She hadn’t meant the words to sound quite so sarcastic.
    Benni cocked her head, not appearing to be insulted. “Yes, I was. But I can’t take any credit for it. I didn’t pick my family, I was born into it. Lucky sperm club, as Gabe would say.” She smiled. “I always correct him. Lucky sperm and egg club. I didn’t deserve my good fortune any more than someone deserves a bad family. I just thank God for it.”
    Mel gently tugged at Redeye’s back fetlock until he lifted his leg. She pulled his foot between her knees and dug at the mud and debris caught in the frog of his hoof. It always made her uncomfortable when someone talked about God in such a familiar way, like he was a person they just called on their cell phone, one of their five favorite people, as one phone company advertised. She didn’t know how to respond. The whole concept of a being who created this screwed-up world seemed beyond rational belief, though she’d have to admit, if pressed, that she didn’t have any better explanation for how or why humans existed or what made them do things, good and bad.
    “Are you going to the lighted boat parade on Saturday?” Benni asked.
    “Yep. Bert and Ernie and four of their buddies are attempting some kind of kayak formation.” She let Redeye’s leg down carefully and moved to the next one.
    “I’ve seen single kayaks in the parade,” Benni said. “They always cover themselves with Christmas lights. But I don’t think there’s ever been a whole fleet of them. Is that what you’d call it, a fleet of kayaks? A bevy? A cartel?”
    Mel didn’t look up from Red’s hoof. “In this case, I’d probably call it a foolishness of kayaks.”
    Benni’s clear laugh rang out. “Mel, you are a hoot. Are you going to paddle with them?”
    “With how cold it is out there on the water? No way. I’m the official photographer and designated cheerleader.”
    “Smart lady.” Benni checked her watch. “I’d better go inside and make sure Dove isn’t doing something she’s not supposed to be doing. Same time next