A Merciful Promise (Mercy Kilpatrick #6)(30)

Mercy handed the cardboard box back to Beckett, keeping the bottle as she read the label. Compound members had probably not bothered with the medication, because an adult dose was at least a half dozen tablets.

“Nope.” Beckett held his hand out for the bottle.

Mercy was confused. “I need a few.”

“Then why are you taking the whole bottle?”

She gritted her teeth, removed the lid, and shook out three purple pills. She handed him the bottle and held the pills on her palm for him to see. “I’d like to requisition these pills,” she forced out through a clenched jaw, holding his gaze.

Ridiculous.

“Who is it for?”

“Do you really need to know?”

“Yep. You’ve got a lot of pills there.”

She held the bottle up so he could see the label. “This is a single dose for a five-year-old. It will only last four to six hours.”

“That stuff can be addicting.”

Mercy raised a brow. “Uh . . . no, it can’t. It’s fucking Tylenol . . . not an opioid.”

“Watch your mouth. You don’t know what the government puts in that bottle.” His expression was completely serious.

Mercy stared and bit her tongue. It’s not my place to educate him—as if he’d listen anyway.

“It’s for Noah,” she told him.

“The kid?” Surprise lit Beckett’s eyes.

“Yes. He has a high fever and probably an ear infection.”

The scowl was back. “His father was fine with this?”

“Yes,” she lied, knowing that giving medication to other people’s kids was extremely wrong on many levels. She’d talk to the father before she gave it to him, but first she wanted the pain medication approved and in her hand.

He handed her a clipboard. “Log it.”

Insane.

She nearly wrote her real name, catching herself at the last second. Three Children’s Tylenol, she wrote, along with the date. She gave back the clipboard. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smiled, showing a mouthful of yellowed teeth.

She spun away on one foot, fuming.

At least I got it.



On her way to find Noah, Mercy wound past the chickens and goats. Earlier, when Vera had mentioned that Sadie watched the children, she’d gestured to the east of the pens. Mercy found a rough path beyond the livestock and followed it, hoping to find the children’s cabin.

The morning chill was gone, and the sun shone from the clear sky, but Mercy avoided the shade offered by the ponderosa and skinnier lodgepole pines, wanting the sunlight on her face. Her dirt path was clear of pine needles, unlike every other square foot of space near the trees.

“Are you the nurse?”

Looking up from her boots, Mercy froze at the sight of an unfamiliar male and instinctively stepped into a defensive stance. He was tall and lean. His shirt was stained with sweat and had ripped at the neck. Under the brim of his battered cap, his blue eyes seemed familiar, and she wondered if she’d seen him in the mess hall.

“Yes.”

“My boy is sick. I was just checking on him.”

“Are you Noah’s father?”

Surprise widened the blue eyes. “I am. I’m Jason.”

Aha. His eyes were exactly like Eden’s. Wide and a vibrant blue.

“You already knew he was sick?” Jason asked.

“I saw him earlier, and I have something that should help with the fever,” Mercy said tentatively. “I suspect he has an ear infection. Ideally he should see a doctor. I don’t have the right equipment to properly diagnose an infection.” She purposefully didn’t name the Tylenol, hoping he’d simply give her general permission to treat his son.

His shoulders sagged. “Do what you can. My request to take him to a doctor has already been turned down.”

“Why?”

“Everyone says childhood sicknesses are normal. We shouldn’t be running to the doctor for drugs every time someone skins a knee.” His gaze was flat, the words recited as if by rote.

I’m getting tired of the same excuse.

“This isn’t a skinned knee. It’s possible his hearing could be permanently affected—and what if I’m wrong? What if something else is causing the fever?”

“Fevers are normal,” he stated.

“It’s okay if I try to lower his fever with what I have?”

“Yeah.” He looked away, and Mercy remembered Vera had said Eden and Noah didn’t have a mother, making her wonder what had happened. “I need to get back to work.” He passed her on the path without another word.

Mercy silently seethed as she watched him walk away. Children’s fevers could rapidly rise from mild to alarming. Why did no one care?

She continued her trek. Hearing chatter ahead, she spotted a cabin under one of the towering pines. A few children were playing tag and the others hopscotch. The game’s outline had been scratched in the dusty dirt, and several rocks dotted the boxes. She counted six kids. Olivia had shed her coat, but she still wore Mercy’s pink hat.

Mercy paused before the children spotted her, watching for a long moment. The children seemed happy, but something about the environment seemed off. It took a moment before she registered that there were no toys. The kids were playing games with what they could find in nature.