Had his life changed that much in one year?

It had.

At some point Mercy had become essential to him. To his happiness and peace of mind.

Kaylie opened the door and grinned, her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head and Dulce in one arm. “You must be really lonely if you’re checking up on me,” she said with a wink.

“I told you I need a jacket I left here.”

“Uh-huh.” She stepped back to let him in, and an amazing odor made every one of his receptor cells turn toward the kitchen. “I made stew,” she said. “Hungry?”

“Always.”

“Good.” She set the cat on a chair, picked up a large spoon, and stirred the pot of thick, meaty goodness on the stove, making Truman’s mouth water. “Hear anything from Mercy?”

“No. And I don’t expect to until she’s finished,” he told her.

“I know. Just thought I’d check.”

“You’d be the first to know.”

She gave him a smile that was a mirror image of Mercy’s, and his chest tightened. “I’ll get that coat.” He strode down the hall to the bedroom, hoping he had a jacket in Mercy’s closet that he could take.

He found two and grabbed the heaviest off a hanger. Mercy’s scent drifted from her clothing, teasing him. A faint smell of lemon and shortbread and vanilla. His stomach tied itself in a knot, and he stood still, staring blankly at her clothing.

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It could be. No more than usual.”

Dammit. He hated being in the dark. He closed the closet and stepped in her bathroom to wash his hands before he ate with Kaylie. As he dried them, his gaze fell on a small tray of cosmetics Mercy kept on her counter, and he caught his breath.

Her engagement ring sat with her makeup.

His fingers shook as he picked up the band of diamonds. She’d complained about having to leave behind all her skin-care products and her expensive conditioner for the assignment. But she hadn’t mentioned her ring.

She had worn it the night before she left. He’d felt it as his hand had tightly gripped hers. She’d been astride him, her back arched, light from the moon illuminating her skin as she’d moved with him. His fingertips had explored the metal around her finger, a symbol of the link between them, as they both sought their release.

Then she left it behind.

He exhaled and set the ring back on the tray.

If she couldn’t take expensive conditioner, it made sense she couldn’t take diamonds. She could have been ordered not to wear jewelry. There were a million rational reasons she would not wear it during an assignment.

The sight of the lonely ring made him feel empty. Abandoned.

Get over yourself.

He picked up the ring again and put it in his pocket. There was no reason he couldn’t carry around a piece of her. It was romantic, right?

He put on an upbeat face for Kaylie and went to enjoy her stew.

FOURTEEN

The lieutenant directed Mercy toward an area of the camp she hadn’t explored yet, following yet another dry path. She heard the sound of a river up ahead, and the air took on a different scent. No longer dry and dusty, it teased with a hint of fresh water.

“Thought we were going to the command center,” she said over her shoulder to the grim man behind her. He’d insisted she walk ahead. Having him out of her sight made her uncomfortable.

“Pete is over here this afternoon.”

“What’s your name?”

The lieutenant was silent for a long moment. “Sean.”

She looked back at him. “You had to decide whether or not to tell me your name? Is it a secret?”

“No more questions.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“You don’t take orders well, do you?”

“Usually I do, but besides the gun over your shoulder, I haven’t been given reason to take orders from you.”

“I speak for Pete.”

“Then you must have worked for him for a long time. Did you know him before coming here?”

Sean made an exasperated noise and didn’t answer.

Mercy mentally shook herself. I will not make waves.

After a few minutes, they entered a clearing full of activity. Hammers pounded, and male workers swarmed around a large new building next to a sagging carport that protected several large trucks. A few women worked on the outskirts of the clearing, using shovels and big knives to clear brush back to the tall rocky ridge that loomed behind the buildings. A gravel road led from the line of parked vehicles in the direction of the central part of the camp.

New boards gleamed on the structure, which had been erected on a fresh slab of concrete. Four huge roll-up doors for vehicles filled the front of the building. Clearly it was new, and it was the nicest complex she’d seen in the compound.

Pete stood about ten yards from the new garage, his arms crossed on his chest as he watched her approach. Jason, Noah’s dad; Beckett, the quartermaster; and Chad were with him. Mercy’s steps slowed at the anger in Jason’s eyes. Beckett looked smug, and Pete’s expression was stone.

Uh-oh.

She finally looked to Chad, whose gaze pleaded with her to cooperate.

Fuck.

This had to be about Noah.

Mercy stopped a few feet from the line of men and looked each one in the eye, keeping her gaze soft. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something is the fuck wrong,” started Beckett. His shaggy beard quivered with his words. “You told me you had approval to medicate a child. You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.” She looked at Jason. “You told me to do what I could for Noah.”

“I thought you meant through natural means—”

“You didn’t specify that,” Mercy pointed out. “Your son is sick. I’m not going to brew him a tea of pine needles. God wouldn’t have given us Tylenol if he didn’t want us to use it.”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” muttered Beckett.

The construction workers slowed, watching the small group, but they were too far away to hear the words. Curiosity and apprehension lined their faces. A few men stopped completely and stared.

“Jason says he met you on the way to the children’s cabin,” Pete said quietly, ignoring Beckett.

Mercy said nothing but gave Pete her attention.

“That would have been after you left the supply depot,” Beckett snapped. “After you told me you already had permission. She got real mouthy with me too.” His demeanor grew sulky.

To Beckett, her biggest sin had been her assertiveness at the supply depot.

She kept her gaze on Pete. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Chad constantly rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze darting from her to Sean, who stood behind her.

“I don’t tolerate liars.” Pete’s voice was calm. “There’s no room for that here.”

“Pete—” said Chad.

Pete held up a hand to stop Chad’s words. “Jessica can speak for herself.”

“Do you have kids?” Mercy asked Pete.

An odd expression flickered across his face and vanished. “No.”

She took in a deep breath. “Neither do I, but I want to one day.” She glanced at Chad. “Chad knows how I am about kids. Sick kids push my buttons. Noah is an exhausted shell of a little boy.” She lifted a brow at Jason. “He’s not usually like that, is he?”

He gave a short shake of his head.

“Simple medication like acetaminophen can make a world of difference. Why would I watch him suffer? We should have Tylenol drops on hand for the babies too. They can go downhill at the speed of light when they’re ill. I’ve seen it.” She looked back at Pete and softened her tone. “I’m sorry for crossing your line, but I’m not sorry for helping a five-year-old.” She lowered her gaze after spotting a hint of appreciation in Jason’s eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with helping a child be comfortable.”

I’d do the same again.

“The problem is your methods. This is your second day, and you’re already pushing the boundaries,” Pete stated. “You need to reevaluate if you want to be here. You are this close to going home.” He held up his thumb and finger an inch apart.

“Give her a break, Pete.” Chad turned to him. “She comes from a job where she told people what to do all day long. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t believe as we do.”

Judging by Pete’s face, Mercy didn’t think Chad was helping her case.

“Forty-eight hours,” announced Pete.

Beckett’s icy-blue eyes narrowed on Mercy as he grinned. Did that mean she had forty-eight hours to decide to stay? Confused, Mercy glanced at Chad. He looked stunned.

“Pete.” Chad took a few steps to place himself in front of Mercy. “I’ll take the punishment for her.”

Punishment? Mercy’s heart contracted. Swift and severe. Chad’s words from yesterday rang in her head, and she grew more conscious of Sean and his rifle behind her.

“You can’t do that,” Beckett burst out as he lumbered forward.

“I can,” Chad told him. “Right, Pete?”

What is going on?

Pete was silent, his gaze moving between Chad and Mercy. “He can.” Pete rubbed his chin. “But I’ll only let you take a quarter. Thirty-six hours for her. Twelve for you.”

“Thirty-six hours of what?” Her words were steady, but her heartbeat thundered in her chest.