Have Mercy Read online Christina Lee

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
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5

Julian

The sound of a rooster crowing jolted my eyes open. My heart was pounding, and there was that whooshing sound in my ears that happened sometimes since discharge. Thanks for the wake-up call. I was in the middle of a dream, a more pleasant one this time, where I was on patrol in the desert and we were cracking up about Smithy’s lame dad jokes he was always telling.

I must’ve fallen asleep fast and hard, which surprised me because I was in a strange bed with a softer pillow than I was used to, but something about the absolute silence must’ve done it for me. That or the long travel day. I picked up my phone to check the time, and realized I had been under for a solid seven hours. That rarely happened anymore.

I had showered before bed, then texted with Mom and Caitlin to tell them I‘d arrived safely.

Any hot cowboys? Caitlin had asked.

Yeah, the one down the hall, I almost responded, but not a good idea to be thinking about how ruggedly handsome your cousin was. Even if he was officially an ex-cousin-in-law. Now that was a mouthful.

Not yet, give it time.

I’ll expect a full report.

I reluctantly rolled out of the comfy sheets, knowing that lying there with my runaway thoughts would do me no favors. The smell of coffee clinched it—I remembered Marta mentioning the coffee machine being set for the morning brew—drawing me toward the dark and quiet kitchen, the only light coming from the glow of a dim bulb beneath the cupboard.

I opened one cabinet after another until I found a mug, and poured myself a steaming cup. The first sip was strong and robust and exactly what I needed. Not like the weak shit they’d served at the base, or the flavored kind Mom liked to make along with rich creamers that made the coffee taste like dessert in a mug. Not that I was opposed to dessert, just not first thing in the morning.

I padded outside and sat down on the porch swing, mindful not to make too much noise. I wasn’t sure who was up, but from the silence in the house, I guessed no one but me. I hadn’t been this alone in such a wide, open space in a good, long while, and it felt…sobering. Surely not in the barracks, with soldiers resting inches from me, nor in the big city, where apparently no one ever slept, including me.

If I were awake in my mother’s apartment this early, I might’ve considered a walking tour of the city streets, but here I wasn’t sure where anything might lead me. Except maybe the Carmichael Ranch, which abutted their property.

Dawn was just breaking, and I became mesmerized by the bright pinks and oranges painted on the horizon as I finished my first cup. Setting the mug down on the wicker table, I focused on a light coming from the barn. Drawn to it, I tiptoed down the steps, and as I neared the door, was greeted by moos and bleats from the cows and goats inside.

Stepping beyond the threshold, I immediately spotted Kerry sitting on a stool with his arms beneath a cow. Of course he would be up at the crack of dawn to work his farm. Sienna was probably somewhere around here too.

“Morning.” Kerry lifted his hand in a wave.

“Sorry to bother you,” I said, suddenly feeling like I might be intruding. Who the hell wanted someone in their way when performing their daily chores?

“Not a problem.”

He gently patted the cow’s flank as if to soothe her, and the action only made me more curious about the man. He’d always been kind, though on the quiet side. And he obviously didn’t abandon his family. He stuck around here because he cared—not only about Sienna and Ainsley, but the animals too. Or at least that was the first impression I’d gotten of him after so many years. And also after hearing stories about their heartbreaking divorce and their daughter’s subsequent illness.

“If you ever wanted to learn how to milk a cow, now might be your time.”

I chuckled. “Not sure it was at the top of my list, but I’d definitely be curious.” I moved nearer to the enclosure. A few goats followed on my heels, and I noticed for the first time that the barn was divided by two large free stalls, one side for the cows and the other for the goats. “No farmhand today?”

“George will be in shortly, along with a couple of part-timers, to do whatever needs done for the day. Like repairing that fence our goats keep jumping over.” He dipped his head lower, and I zeroed in on some sort of bottle in his hand as he massaged the cow’s udders with the other. “But generally, George exercises and grooms the horses. The cows are mine to milk twice daily, and Sienna has taken over the goats. In fact, the whole goat-milk product line was her idea, and she loves it.”


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