The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

115: The Quality of Mercy

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Saint by Diego Candia. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

The bunkhouse was eerily empty, the long shadows of late afternoon slanting through the windows and turning the dustmotes hanging lazily in the air into a sleepy haze. The rest of the crew had left for town for a celebratory supper at Abigail's, and Saint wondered if he'd made a mistake meeting Jesse here before heading out. The last time Jesse had gotten wind of Saint kissing his sister, the two of them had ended up having to lie to the Old Man to explain away their bruises and scraped knuckles.

Jesse had grown into a different man since the last time he'd been in the bunkhouse. It hadn't really been all that long ago, but it might as well have been a lifetime. Saint just looked him over for a long moment, baffled at how out of place he looked here now. Farm Boy had been living rough without a hat, and his skin was burnished dark, peeling in places with healing sunburn. A short, blond beard sprouted over his cheeks and chin, and he looked completely comfortable in his native clothing and moccasins.

Farm Boy was gone. Saint had no doubt in his mind that the young man Jesse had been no longer existed. He wasn't sure he knew this man. "Jesse," he said finally. "You ain't staying. Are you."

Jesse held his gaze for a moment, his blue eyes startled. There was a hint of sadness in his smile, and he gave Saint a barely-perceptible shake of his head. "No."

Saint turned this over in his mind, nodding. "Does she know?"

"Yeah." Jesse sat down in the chair by the table and stretched his long legs out with a sigh. " We talked, but I'm pretty sure she knew as soon as I rode up. I love Still Water Woman. I love her family, I just...I want to be with her. Lily...she..." His face twisted for a brief moment, betraying him. "She just wants me to be alright. I want her to be alright, Saint."

"Jesse..." Saint eased himself into the opposite chair, tension knotting his shoulders. "A lot's happened since Point of Rocks."

Jesse chuckled, the toothy grin breaking suddenly over his face reminding Saint of the callow country boy he'd rode out of here with. "Sure as hell has."

"You're gonna hate me," Saint went on. "You're gonna hate me, and I'm sorry about that...but I swear to you I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure Lily's alright. If she'll have me." He tensed, wondering if Jesse was going to leap across the table at him. He can strike like a diamondback. And if he does, I'm gonna just let him. He drew in a steadying breath. "I can't help the way I feel, Jesse. I love her."

Jesse nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Saint's. "A lot's happened since Point of Rocks."

Saint ran his fingers across his scalp, sweeping his hair back. "I know I ain't getting your blessing..."

"You already have it, Saint," Jess said, his voice earnest. "You had it back before I got dragged off by Galloway. Hell, maybe even before we left the Green. The kind of friend you been to me...to both of us..." He shook his head, shrugging. "You ain't gotta explain nothing to me, brother."

Saint felt his eyes start to burn, and he blinked. He'd expected he'd live the rest of his life in agony over his failures that he thought had led to Jesse's death. Now that Jesse was alive against all odds, Saint expected he'd live the rest of his life enduring Jesse's betrayed hatred. That none of that was coming true was almost too much. "What...?" he started, unable to go on.

"Shitfire, Saint. How many times did ya almost die for her?" He nodded again. "I was wrong. You been the truest friend I ever had, and I'm proud to call you my brother. Lily loves ya. Thanks for loving her back." 

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