Mercy shuddered, too relieved for words. Not upset with me. And the other words sank in and she tensed all over again. Prepare me?
Rafe took Mercy’s other hand. ‘Who’s here?’
Irina seemed to brace herself. ‘Jeff Bunker, for starters.’
Mercy could only stare at her. ‘The kid reporter?’
Behind her, Rafe growled quietly. ‘Jeff Bunker is here? Why?’
‘Because he did a good thing,’ Irina snapped. ‘Drop your bad attitude, Raphael. I’ve no patience for it at the moment. It’s been an eventful day.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Mercy muttered. ‘But Zoya is all right? You said she was fine.’
‘She is fine,’ Irina assured her. ‘The officer who got shot is not so much. He will live, though, so we must be grateful. He saw a Jeep down the road from Zoya’s school and recognized the license plate as the Jeep stolen from the honeymoon couple at the campground in Nevada. He called it in but ignored commands to wait for backup.’
‘Young and stupid,’ Rafe said with a scowl. ‘It’s a wonder rookies survive their first year.’
‘That’s the damn truth,’ André agreed.
Irina sighed. ‘So we have . . . protection. And company.’
‘Miss Callahan?’
Mercy turned in her chair to find Agent Molina standing in the kitchen doorway. But she wasn’t alone. A man stood beside her, a small girl in front of him. His hands were on the girl’s shoulders, his face wary and afraid. But also alive. His eyes were alive.
And fixed on Mercy.
‘Oh my God,’ Mercy breathed, coming to her feet like she was in a dream. He was older. Of course he was older. His beard was streaked with silver. But his eyes were the same. Exactly the same.
Gideon rose from his chair. ‘Amos?’ he asked, shocked.
It was. It was Amos. Mercy ran across the kitchen, wanting to throw her arms around him, but the little girl was in the way, staring up at her with wide eyes. So Mercy took his face in her hands.
She was trembling. So was he. ‘It’s you,’ she whispered. ‘It’s really you. How are you here?’
Amos closed his eyes, tears seeping down his cheeks and into his beard. His hands covered hers and he turned to kiss her palm. ‘You’re all right. I . . . Oh.’ He sobbed out the single syllable. ‘I was so afraid you wouldn’t be all right. I thought you were dead. All this time. They told me you were dead.’ He opened his eyes to look at Gideon, who now stood a few feet away, the picture of indecision. ‘You too. They told me you were both dead.’
Agent Molina moved out of the way and the little girl moved to take her place at Amos’s side. He started to open his arms, but hesitated. Mercy wasn’t having his hesitation, though, and launched herself into his arms. ‘How are you here?’
His arms closed around her, strong as they’d been when she’d been twelve years old and so afraid. ‘I came to warn you. And to get Abigail out of that place.’ One of his arms left her back, and Mercy realized he’d extended it to Gideon, who stood frozen in place.
Gideon took a step back and shook his head, his expression a mass of conflict that Mercy recognized all too well. He wanted to join their reunion, but he was afraid to. And his experience with Amos had been different than hers. Mercy had had the benefit of three years of one-on-one time with their stepfather, while Gideon’s last memory of Amos was him taking Ephraim to the healer after Gideon had stabbed him in the eye as he’d fought for his life.
‘Warn Mercy about what?’ Gideon asked stonily. ‘And who is Abigail?’
Amos patted Mercy’s face with all the gentleness she remembered, then took the hand of the small girl who was watching them with a mix of fascination and fear. ‘This is Abigail.’
‘Your daughter,’ Mercy whispered. ‘We found the cemetery. And the cross.’ For Damaris, Amos’s beloved wife.
Amos sighed. ‘Right. Agent Molina said that you had.’
‘Let’s sit down,’ Molina said. ‘I think Amos can answer a lot of your questions.’ She gave Gideon a pointed look. ‘He’s been extremely helpful, as I’m sure you will see.’
Mercy looked away from her brother when Abigail tugged on Amos’s coat. Mercy knew that if she touched his coat it would be rough, made of homespun wool. She’d felt the scratchiness of it against her cheek many times.
‘That’s her?’ Abigail asked, confused. ‘She’s . . . old, Papa.’
Mercy laughed, the sound surprising her. ‘Hello, Abigail. I’m Mercy.’
Abigail’s eyes were wide and gray as she openly appraised Mercy. ‘I know. You’re my papa’s other daughter. We thought you were dead.’
Gideon abruptly left them, retaking his seat next to Daisy, who promptly put Brutus in his lap. Gideon’s expression softened and he whispered his thanks.
‘Mercy, sit down,’ Daisy commanded. ‘I’m dying of curiosity over here.’
I came to warn you. Amos’s words sank in and Mercy suddenly felt cold. But then she felt Rafe standing behind her, warm and solid. ‘Rafe, this is Amos Terrill. Amos, this is Detective Rafe Sokolov, Irina’s son. And my . . . friend,’ she added weakly, not sure what she and Rafe were to each other.
Mercy didn’t miss Amos’s uncertain glance at Gideon before he met Rafe’s gaze. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’
Rafe held out his hand. ‘Welcome. Mercy has spoken highly of you.’
Amos shook Rafe’s hand, a small shudder visibly shaking him. ‘Thank you.’
Once they were all seated around the table and Irina had served them more tea, Amos folded his hands and drew a breath. ‘We left Eden last night.’
‘In the back of Brother DJ’s truck,’ Abigail added.
Amos smiled at her fondly. ‘We did indeed.’ Sobering, he looked at Gideon. ‘You asked what I came to warn Mercy about. For the past six months, I’ve been . . . aware that things in Eden aren’t right.’
‘Six months,’ Gideon said, unimpressed. ‘Took you long enough.’
Amos flinched. ‘You’re right. It did.’ He leaned down to Abigail. ‘Maybe you can go sit with Miss Zoya for a little while? Maybe she can show you another movie.’
Abigail’s lips firmed. ‘Gideon should be kind to you. You have his picture and everything.’
Amos’s mouth curved sadly. ‘Gideon has suffered quite a lot. He has a right to however he feels. Don’t worry about me, Abi-girl. I’ll be fine. I promise. Now go find Miss Zoya.’