From Ashes to Honor (11 page)

Again, Austin marveled at Mercy's instinctive people skills.He could have talked himself hoarse without getting that kind of instant cooperation from Flora! Better be careful, he warned himself,
in case she decides to turn those talents in your direction.

But who was he kidding? She'd won him over days ago when she'd followed his ambulance to the hospital to check on the injured football player.

Moments later, on the walkway between his boat and the Callahans', Austin slid an arm across her shoulders. "You know what?"

Mercy shook her head. "No, what?"

"You're pretty amazing, that's what."

He adjusted his pace, so her short legs wouldn't have to work so hard to keep up with his long ones.

Mercy fiddled with the shiny new sheet of foil Flora had put on the cake pan. "Oh? Because of my scrumptious pineapple upside-down cake recipe?"

"Well, there's that," he said, chuckling. "And then there's your knack for putting people at ease."

"Oh, it's not really a knack so much as a job requirement.But thanks for the compliment all the same."

Affection for her surged within him, and Austin gave in to the urge to pop a kiss to the top of her head. "Y'know what?"

"No, what?"

"I like you, kiddo. I like you a lot."

She looked down at her feet, then out toward the water, and sighed. "And the feeling is mutual."

What inspired the hesitation, he wondered, preceding her words?

"I hope Flora really does call her doctor—"

Had she changed the subject on purpose? Or—

"—because I think you're right. I think something
is
wrong."She fiddled with the tin foil again. "Did you see the way she lost her balance right before we left?"

Yes, he had, but before he could admit it, she added, "Oh, I hope it's nothing serious." She stopped walking and looked up at him. "Will you call me? After Bud tells you what her doctor said, I mean?"

Starlight sparked in her eyes and the moon's glow shimmered around her hair like a white halo. Concern drew two vertical lines between her eyebrows, making him rack his brain for words that would erase them. How could she fret so much about a woman she'd only met, what, ninety minutes ago? The better question: How could anyone with a heart as big as Mercy's
not
be a Follower? "'Course I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He'd call even if he hadn't given his word.

Mercy gave one nod of her head and started walking again."Good."

For the second time in as many minutes, Austin slung an arm over her shoulders. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

He felt one shoulder rise, then fall beneath his hand as she said "Long as you don't mind if I can't answer."

Doesn't take a genius to know that "can't" really means "won't".

"Nope. I won't mind a bit."
Liar,
he thought.

"OK, then, shoot."

"Why is it so all-fired important to find out what Flora's doctor says?"

"You know, I haven't the foggiest idea." She shrugged again."It's just hard not to care about a woman like that, even given the fact that we only just met."

"I know what you mean. It was the same for me when I met her. Bud, too."

"It's weird."

"What is?"

"This knack they have, for making people feel like they've been adopted by the sweetest old couple in the world."

Was it the music in her voice or the words, themselves, that made his heart feel twice its normal size? "Yeah. I know what you mean." He held open the screen door, and as she walked into his cabin, Austin said "You have that effect on people, too."

"Hey," she said, putting the cake pan on the stove. She rummaged through is cupboards until she found the one where he kept his plates. "I'm barely thirty," she said extracting one, "who you callin'
old?"

Smiling, Austin leaned against the companionway wall, hands in his pockets as she opened and closed drawers in search of a spatula. It pleased him that she felt comfortable enough to make herself at home. Pleased him so much that an image of her, standing in the same spot—but wearing an apron and a gold band on the third finger of her left hand— flashed through his head. Austin had to blink a few times to shake it.

Now, as she stooped to poke around in the lower cabinets, he wondered what she'd gone on the hunt for this time.

"Ah-ha!" she said, grabbing the plastic wrap. "When I'm finished getting this ready for your pals down at the station, I'll help you wash up our supper dishes."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to."

His heart did the bigger-than-normal thing again as he pictured the two of them, side by side at the sink—her washing, him drying—performing the routine household chore of a husband and wife. Why hadn't any of the other women he'd brought here inspired thoughts of wedding rings and domestic togetherness?

Because none had baked his favorite cake? Or because none had bothered to ask what his favorite cake
was.

Austin watched her blanket the left-over slices and put the plastic wrap back where she'd found it. He had no intention of turning down her offer to help with the dishes, not because he minded the chore, but because it gave him a legitimate excuse to be with her for . . .

. . . for as long as he could find things for her to wash.Up on deck, Mercy popped another CD into the player, then proceeded to pile plates, glasses, and silverware onto the red tray. While Austin pretended to scrape the grill racks, she hummed along with another Eagles' tune. Would she sing out loud if a favorite song blasted from the speakers?
A guy can hope,
he thought, grinning to himself.

"Austin! Look!"

He turned in time to see her pointing at the sky. "What," he asked, joining her at the rail.

"A shooting star!"

His arm went around her as if he'd been doing it for years."Where?"

Mercy leaned closer and, taking his hand, used his finger as her pointer. "There, right between—what are those bright ones called?"

"That one's Venus," he said. "And that's Vindemiatrix."

"I'm impressed," she said, pressing into his side.

He opened his mouth to impress her with the names of a few more when she gasped and jumped up and down like an enthused child. "Look! There goes another one!"

Nodding, he said "Yep." But he couldn't concentrate on the stars. In fact, Austin had no desire to look into the sky.

"It's amazing! I could stand here forever, just watching for the next one." She turned slightly to look up into his face."How do you ever get any sleep, knowing there's a light show, right on the other side of your roof!"

"Some nights I don't. In fact, if I had a dollar for every night I've fallen asleep in one of those chairs—" He chuckled. "Well, I could buy a couple more chairs."

Mercy sighed. "Maybe I'll sell the townhouse and buy a tent and pitch it right here. One with a big clear-plastic window on top of it, so I could snuggle into my sleeping bag and fall asleep, watching the sky. And instead of rent, I could cook and clean for you. Why, it'd be a dream come true!"

He liked to think of himself as a "feet on the ground" kind of guy, the type who poked fun at folks who wished upon the stars. But Mercy's dream produced a silent groan that started deep in his gut and echoed all the way to his heart, because the only change he'd make to it would be to add himself to that sleeping bag—wearing a gold band on the third finger of his left hand that exactly matched hers.

He shook his head again, hoping to shake some sense into it.Or, at the very least, shake the nonsensical idea
out
of it. What he knew about Mercy, he could put in one eye. He needed time, and so did she, to—

"What's going on in that handsome head of yours?"

He'd been daydreaming, and she'd caught him red-handed."Handsome?" Austin blinked and, grinning, said, "You think I'm handsome?"

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his chin. "Please. Like you're surprised to hear it. I'll bet a hundred girls have said the same thing, on the very spot where I'm standing right now."

His smile faded as he took her in his arms. "You're wrong, Mercy. Dead wrong. No woman has stood where you are. I never introduced any of them to the Callahans. Or grilled steaks for them. Never took 'em up on deck, never watched the sunset, never told 'em to watch for the green flash—"

"Which I missed—"

"Sorry."

Giggling, she rested her forehead on his chest. "And fire rainbows?"

"Nope. Never told 'em about those, either." He pulled her closer, so close that he could feel her heart beating hard against his chest, and much to his delight, she didn't resist.

"Keep it up," she whispered, "and I'm liable to get a big head."

"S'OK. I've always been partial to girls with big heads."

"That isn't what
Flora
said."

"Uh oh . . . I'm almost afraid to ask. What did Flora say?"

"That all of your women have been tall and lithe, blondhaired and blue-eyed. Like centerfold models. Well, except for the redhead. She had a normal figure. Oh, and green eyes."

Funny, but Austin couldn't remember ever dating a redhead, let alone bringing one here.

"How do you suppose she's so up on your type?"

"Who?"

"Flora."

He chuckled. "I dunno. Maybe she's got a telescope aimed this way."

"If that's true, it's only because she's looking out for your best interests. She thinks the world of you, you know."

Nodding, he said, "Yeah, I know. And I feel the same way about her."

"Do you think she's watching us right now?"

The moon chose that moment to slide out from behind a cloud, lighting a mischievous grin lit her gorgeous face."Probably." Oh, to have the power to read that amazing mind and know what inspired it.

She walked her fingers up his chest until her palms came to rest on his shoulders. Raising herself on tiptoe again, she touched her lips to his. "Then what do you say we put on a little show for her?"

"Put on a—?"

"Just so she'll have a good story to tell the next girl you bring here?"

"Next girl? What're you talkin' about? There isn't going to be—"

Mercy silenced his denial with a long, tender kiss, and for the first time in his life, Austin understood what the poets meant when they wrote about pure, heart-pounding love.

L
eo had been in town nearly a week, and, except for two breakfasts and dinner the night he arrived, Mercy had only seen him in passing.

"I'm only trying to be a good houseguest," he said when she pointed it out.

"You aren't fooling me, brother dear. You've met a wholesome Maryland girl, haven't you? Is she teaching you why the travel brochures call Baltimore 'Charm City'?"

"I must confess," he said around a mouthful of potato chips, "I'm learning a lot about the place under her tutelage, but 'wholesome' is hardly the word I'd use to describe her."

"And where, exactly, did you meet this unwholesome creature?"

He dumped a few more chips onto a paper napkin. "At the Walters Art Gallery."

"I don't believe it."

Leo shrugged and crunched another chip. "It's true, I tell you!"

"And from the gallery to—"

"—to the B&O Railroad Museum. I had no
idea
how trains moved from track to track. Quite enlightening."

"I'm sure."

"Now, now, now. Sarcasm doesn't become you."

"Uh-huh. So what are your plans for the evening?"

"I'm all yours," he said, arms wide. And after delivering an expansive yawn, Leo added, "If you can keep me awake, that is. And don't bother to blame my late hours, because I'll just be forced to remind you it's jet lag and nothing more."

Eyes narrowed, Leo gave her a sidelong glance. "All right.Out with it. What's going on in that can't-rest-for-even-aminute brain of yours?"

"I was hoping we might have dinner together, so I could introduce you to a—to a friend."

He smirked. "A friend, eh?"

Mercy nodded and did her best not to let her enthusiasm show.

"How old is your
friend?"

She frowned. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. Thirty-two? Thirty-five?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. A tad long in the tooth for my taste, but—blond or brunette?"

She knew as well as he that her "friend" wasn't female, but Mercy went along with the joke, just for fun. "Oh, blond. One hundred percent natural, I might add, with huge blue eyes and the longest, darkest lashes, ever."

"Sounds delightful. So delightful that I'm sure this friend must be short and squatty. You know the type— all butt no body?"

"Quite the contrary.
This
blond is tall." She stretched her arm high over her head to estimate Austin's height. "Six-two, maybe six-three?"

"Goodness," he said, grinning, "must be terribly uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable?"

"You know, the crick in your spine."

"The crick in my spine?"

Leo looked around the room. "Odd, but this is the first time I noticed it."

"Noticed what?"

"That there's a terrible echo in this room."

"Leo, I—"

"The crick," he explained, wiggling his eyebrows, "from craning your neck to kiss him, of course!"

There had only been the one warm and tender, glorious, mesmerizing, too-short kiss, and it had been anything
but
uncomfortable.

"Mercy, dear. I don't suppose you have you any antacids?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. They're in the medicine cabinet in the hall bath. Why? Has your not-so-wholesome tour guide been feeding you too much rich Maryland seafood?"

"No, no," he said with gusto, "I've thoroughly enjoyed the local fare, and I'm happy to report that it agrees with me quite well."

"Then why do you need antacids?"

"Why, to counteract that sickeningly sweet
look
on your face, of course."

"What sickeningly sweet—"

"The one you got just now, thinking of Mr. Longest, Darkest Lashes Ever's kiss."

Mercy felt the blush creeping from her heart to her neck, and slapped both palms to her cheeks, hoping to hide it before it reached her face.

Leo tossed his paper napkin and hit her square in the forehead."Oh, don't go all pink-faced on me. I didn't mean to embarrass you, little sister." He chuckled. "Much."

"Then you'll join us for dinner?"

"Why not?"

She resisted the urge to launch into a detailed description of Austin, what he did for a living, how much fun she had in his company—

Cold fear gripped her, because if she knew her brother, he'd ask how they met, one of the most natural conversation-opening questions ever asked. If she answered truthfully, Austin might feel uneasy. And then Leo would, too.

You're putting the cart before the horse,
she thought, citing another of her father's favorite expressions. For all she knew, Austin had to work tonight. And with Leo leaving in just a few days, the two might never meet.

"Where will we dine?"

Mercy blinked. "What?"

"Are you planning to fix dinner here, or are we going out on the town tonight?"

"Oh. I-I thought I'd make us something here. That way, if you get tired, you'll only be feet from your bed."

"How very thoughtful of you, Mercy dear." He loosed a wicked snicker.

"Leo, honestly! Austin and I . . . we're nowhere near . . . I couldn't . . . we haven't . . . for all I know, he isn't even interested in me that wa—"

"Heavens to Mergetroid!" he interrupted, hugging her."Down, girl! I'm your brother, not your father. You certainly don't owe me any explanations." He held her at arm's length."Though I must warn you, if I get the impression he's a churlish, dastardly sort, I might be forced to break out my black belt." Leo let go of her and assumed a karate stance before unleashing a blood-curdling "H-h-hay-
ya-a-a!"

"Have I told you lately that I love you?"

Straightening his back, he dusted imaginary dust from his trousers. "As a matter of fact, you haven't." He hugged her again,

and, pressing a brotherly kiss to her forehead, said, "It's rather nice to hear, so I won't mind at all if it becomes a habit."

He yawned and stretched. "Do I have time for a nap before I shower and dress for dinner?"

Laughing, Mercy said, "It's barely noon, you big silly!"

Leo checked his wristwatch. "So it is," he said, and padded up the stairs.

When the door to his room clicked shut, Mercy picked up the phone and dialed Austin's cell number.

"Hey!" he said after the third ring.

"Hey, yourself."

"Worked a double shift yesterday or I would've called."

"I figured it was something like that."

"So, what was
your
excuse for not calling?"

She heard the smile in his voice, and it inspired one of her own. "My brother's in town."

"Cool. When do I get to meet Dr. London Bridge?"

"Tonight, if you're free."

"Hold on while I check with my secretary."

Mercy heard the muffled sound of paper-rustling before he came back on the line.

"You're in luck. Seems there's been a cancellation, and I'm happy to say there's an opening in my schedule."

"Be still my heart!"

Chuckling, he said "Where should we take him to eat?"

"He's been running around doing touristy things for three whole days, so I thought it might be a nice change for him to eat in."

"Sounds good to me. Can I bring anything?"

"Just a hearty appetite."

"What time should I be there?"

"Six, six-thirty? I'll put out some appetizers, and we'll eat at sevenish?"

"Sevenish. Got it." Then, "What's for dinner?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"I can bring something, save you the fuss and bother. Does Leo have a preference? Italian? Asian? Mexican?"

"He'd eat a rock if I salted it, but really, it's no bother. It'll be fun, cooking for my two favorite guys."

She didn't know what to make of the lengthy pause. Had she assumed too much from that kiss? Or had something in the atmosphere interrupted their cell reception? "Hello? Did I lose you?"

"No way. At least, not if I have anything to say about it. Just picking myself up off the floor, is all."

"Off the—"

"Had a dream last night that you said those very words.Woke up wearing a grin so big, my face hurt."

Mercy knew exactly what he meant, because if she kept smiling this way, her face would begin to ache, too. "See you at six."

"Five forty-five."

She laughed.

"You think I'm joking?"

"G'bye."

"G'bye."

She could hear him, chuckling on the other end of the phone. "Austin?"

"Mercy?"

"Hang up."

"No, you."

"All right, I will."

"When?"

"Right now."

A second, then two, ticked by.

Austin chuckled. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"I thought you were gonna hang up."

"I was."

"Then, why didn't you?"

"Because—"
Because I can't break the connection, that's why.

"Weakling."

"Who?"

"Your feet don't fit a limb."

Mercy giggled. "What?"

"Owl? Tree? Feet on a limb?" He laughed. "Killjoy."

"Killjoy?"

"That's right, killjoy."

"Killjoy," she said, trying to figure out what it meant.

"A joke isn't funny if you have to explain it."

"Explain—"

"You can't see me, but I'm shaking my phone. Hard."

"Why?"

"Because I'm hoping it'll put an end to the echo, that's why."

"Echo?" And then she got it. "You're a nut."

And he started singing a commercial she hadn't heard in years. "'Sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don't . . . ."

"Austin."

"Mercy."

"If I don't hang up, I can't start dinner."

"Then I suggest you do it."

"All right. I will. Here goes."

She'd barely returned the phone to its cradle when it rang.

"I'm crushed," he said the moment she answered.

Laughing, Mercy said "Why?"

"You hung up on me!"

"Guess you'll have to do it this time, so we'll be even."

"I love the way your mind works. Scratch that. I love everything about you."

Fortunately, he took her advice and ended the call, because she had no idea how she would have responded.

"—and where did you say I could find those antacids?"

"Good grief! You scared me half to death!"

"I can't believe you didn't tell him."

"Tell him? Tell him what?"

He slapped a hand to his forehead. "If you think
I'm
going to play verbal 'who shot John' and repeat the ridiculous back and forth of that phone call, you've got another think coming."Then, "It's perfectly obvious that you're mad about the man.And that he's mad about you, too."

"You were—you were
listening?
Leo, I'm surprised at you!" He pointed to the phone, with its still-lit speakerphone light.

Mercy hid behind her hands and groaned.

"Austin," he said, nodding his approval. "I rather like the name. It's strong, simple, unique. And I'm guessing it fits?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Yes, of course. Until 'sevenish.' " He snickered. "That was the first time he bared his soul? Acknowledged his feelings? Confessed his love?"

Mercy groaned and headed for the kitchen. "I have to start dinner."

Leo tagged her heels. "He gave you the perfect opening.Why you didn't tell him that you feel the same way?"

She stuck her head in the fridge. "For one thing, I'm not sure
how
I feel," Mercy said, grabbing a bag of salad fixings."And besides, he hung up before I had a chance to respond."

"That's right. He did, didn't he?"

Thankfully, she'd faced the kitchen window to shred lettuce into a bowl.

"Well, no problem. I'll retire early and give you plenty of

time—and privacy—to tell him how you feel once we've had

our dessert. What are you making, by the way?"

"Chocolate cheesecake."

"I approve, heartily!"

"I aim to please."

"And the main course?"

"Beef Wellington."

"Aren't you a darling to make my favorite!"

"Well, you
are
my favorite brother."

He kissed her cheek. "Well, sister dear, I'm headed upstairs for that much-needed nap. You've worn me out, I tell you, with all your back-and-forth lovey-dovey chatter!"

Halfway up the stairs, he stopped, and, leaning over the rail, said, "Would you mind awful much if I invited my lovely redheaded friend to dinner?"

Mercy gasped. "Does she have green eyes?"

"As a matter of fact, they're nearly as brown as yours. Why do you ask?"

How ridiculous, thinking Leo's redhead and Flora's might be one and the same. The jealousy that surged through her at the possibility? Even more ridiculous! "Oh, no reason," she said. "Go ahead and invite her," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. "The more, the merrier."

"Thanks, Mercy. I'll ring her up right now."

"No thanks necessary," she said, dicing a tomato for the salad. "Now, you enjoy that nap!"

A glance at the clock told her she had six hours to prep the meat, set the table, and get herself ready. Five hours, forty-five minutes, she thought, hoping Austin had been serious about arriving early.