A Merciful Promise (Mercy Kilpatrick #6)(78)

Eden was a good kid and deserved to be with her family. Her mother had to be searching for the children. Mercy couldn’t imagine a mother who would abandon kids like Noah and Eden.

Mercy leaned against a skinny fir tree for a break. Tears welled as she wondered if she’d ruined Eden’s chance to be reunited with her family. Horrible scenarios of dying in the wilderness spun in her brain, dragging her toward a deep pit of despair. She’d fucked up. They’d missed the cabin. Everything was her fault. If she hadn’t accepted the ATF assignment, Eden would be just fine.

But Noah would be dead.

Breath rushed out of her lungs. She’d saved one sibling only to lead the other to a possible death.

“Do you smell that?” Eden asked, spinning in a circle, her nose in the air.

“I can’t smell a thing.” Her nose didn’t work. She’d breathed through her mouth the entire hike.

“It’s woodsmoke. Quite strong.” Eden’s blue eyes lit up.

Relief weakened Mercy’s knees, and she sat hard in the snow, her gloved hands pressed to her face.

We’ll be okay.





THIRTY

Pristine snowdrifts surrounded the squat cabin, and smoke curled from the chimney.

It was the most beautiful sight Mercy had ever seen. And as if the weather had decided to celebrate with her, the fog lifted, and they could see clearly in every direction. Eden had tracked the odor of smoke. Mercy had been no help, but after a few minutes of walking in circles, they’d spotted the cabin.

Thank you, Beckett.

Eden started to rush toward the house, and Mercy grabbed her arm. “Wait. We need to announce ourselves.” The resident of an isolated cabin wouldn’t expect company. Especially in a snowstorm.

They stopped about fifty feet from the cabin. Mercy cupped her hands around her mouth. “Mr. Dean?” she hoarsely yelled. “Nelson Dean?”

Eden took up the call. “Nelson Dean?” she shouted with the strong lungs of youth.

A figure moved at the window. Mercy waved her arms, hoping she appeared nonthreatening. The door opened, and a tall, gaunt, graying man aimed a rifle at them.

“Who’s there?”

Eden stepped in front of Mercy, surprising her. “I’m Eden Trotter. Beckett sent us. Can we warm up?”

The rifle dipped a few degrees. “You both women?” Surprise filled his tone.

Mercy moved from behind Eden. “Yes,” she croaked, pushing back her hood.

“You walked from the compound in this shitstorm?”

“We did,” answered Eden.

The rifle now pointed at the ground. “You said Beckett, eh? You in trouble?”

“Definitely,” Eden told him.

“Come on in then.” He stepped farther out from under the eaves of the cabin, his boots sinking into the snow. “You must be freezing.”

Mercy couldn’t move. Her energy was depleted. Eden wrapped Mercy’s arm around her neck and shoulder, hauling her forward. Every last ounce of Mercy’s strength was used to raise her feet and step. Nelson Dean leaned the rifle against the house and came out to help. He was close to seven feet tall, his face long and lean with a long, thick beard. Bushy gray eyebrows nearly covered his brown eyes. From what she could see, his eyes were kind.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“What kind of fool travels in this?” he asked as he copied Eden’s position by putting Mercy’s other arm over his shoulder. He straightened and nearly lifted her off her feet. “You must be on Pete’s shit list. What’d you do?”

Speaking was too hard for Mercy. Nelson’s open front door beckoned, promising heat and food and rest, and she couldn’t look away.

Nelson tripped, his chest jerking forward as a warm spray covered Mercy’s face and the crack of a rifle filled the air.

He’s been shot.

Mercy fell, Nelson’s body weight yanking her down. Unable to catch herself, she landed face-first in the snow with Eden beside her.

I can’t breathe.

Floundering, she got her arms under herself and pushed up.

Eden started to shriek, and Mercy stared at Nelson, her heart hammering in her chest.

The snow was pink with spray, and a large chunk of Nelson’s skull was gone.



Mercy fought to make her lungs work.

Still on her hands and knees, she had her eyes locked on the sight of Nelson’s shattered skull a few feet away. She tasted his blood in her mouth and spit, spraying more color on the white snow.

From Mercy’s other side, Eden continued to wail, her high-pitched words unintelligible. She flailed in the snow, crawling away from the dead man and Mercy.

Who shot him?

“Eden, stay down!” Mercy shouted as her brain came back online. Adrenaline pumping her muscles, she lunged after the teenager and protectively threw herself onto Eden’s back, pressing her into the snow.

Eden fought to fling her off, and Mercy leaned close to her ear. “Stop it! We need to get inside and take cover.” The girl stilled. “Stay low and run.” She rolled off the girl and struggled to get to her feet, her knee trembling with pain.

I can’t do this.

“Don’t move.”

She knew the male voice.

Sean.

Mercy froze. And then slowly looked over her shoulder.