Carlo’s head spun at her casual dismissal. He wanted to argue that just because a dad wasn’t around, that didn’t mean he was a deadbeat. Some dads didn’t even know they had a child. But there was no need to argue with the woman who’d treated a stranger so kindly. “Mercy’s kind of an old-fashioned name,” he said instead.
She smiled. “Oh, that’s just what I call her sometimes. Her mom did, too. Her full name is actually Mercedes.”
The name slammed into his aching head with the force of a sledgehammer’s blow. He had indeed blundered into the home of his own child.
Fern frowned at the man on her couch. He was pale, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Great, just great. The poor man was deathly ill.
Maybe he should go to the hospital. Didn’t the ER have to take everyone, regardless of their ability to pay? Although the nearest ER was quite a ways off...
She walked over to the window, flipped on an outdoor light and gasped. Huge snowflakes fell so thickly that it was hard to see anything, but she could make out thigh-high drifts next to the porch.
“What’s wrong?” She heard his slow footsteps as he came over to stand behind her.
His looming presence made her uncomfortable. “It’s getting worse out there.”
“I should go.” He turned, swayed and grabbed the back of a chair with one hand and her shoulder with another. “Whoa. Sorry.”
Compassion warred with worry in her heart. “Why don’t you at least take a little nap? You’re not looking so good.”
“I... Maybe I will. Don’t know if I can make it to my truck.”
She helped him to the couch, even though having his arm draped over her shoulder felt strange. The few guys she’d dated had been closer to her own small size, not like this hulking giant, and they tended not to snuggle up. Something about her demeanor didn’t invite that.
She helped him down onto the couch and noticed he was shivering. Finding a quilt, she brought it over and spread it out across his body. Located a more comfortable pillow and helped him lift his head to slide it underneath.
His hair felt soft, and he smelled clean, like soap.
“Thanks, I really appreciate...this.” His blue eyes drifted shut.
Fern watched him for a few minutes to make sure he was really out. Then she watched the end of the princess movie cuddling with Mercedes, and then carried her up to bed on her back, cautioning her to be quiet because of the man sleeping in the living room.
“Who is he, Mama Fern?”
“He’s our friend Angelica’s brother. You know Xavier? This man is his uncle.”
“I like Xavier,” Mercedes said with a little hero worship in her voice. “He’s in first grade.”
“That’s right.”
Fern read two picture books and then, firmly denying the request for a third, turned off the light.
She grabbed a novel and sat down on the floor outside the child’s bedroom.
Sometimes nights were hard for Mercedes. She still missed her mom.
But tonight was a good night. Within minutes, Mercedes had drifted off and was breathing the heavy, steady breath of a child in sleep.
Fern went back downstairs quietly, picked up her phone and headed to the kitchen where her sleeping housemates couldn’t hear her.
This time, the call went through and a couple of minutes later, she was talking to her yawning friend Angelica. “What? Carlo’s there?”
“He’s asleep on the couch even as we speak.”
“Let me go out in the hall so I don’t wake my boys. I can’t believe this!” Angelica’s voice proved that she’d come wide-awake. “I haven’t seen him for a couple of years, except for a few minutes at our wedding. Why’d he have to show up now, instead of last week?”
“He didn’t even stay for the whole wedding?”
“No, he stayed. And at our house after for a night, but I was with my husband.” Her voice went rich and happy.
Sudden hot jealousy flashed through Fern. Why couldn’t she ever feel that joy that seemed to come so readily to other fortunate women?
She got a grip on herself. What was wrong with her? She was truly happy for her friend. She explained about Carlo’s fever. “He’s pretty sick, and he said that’s why he hadn’t called first. I just wanted to touch base with you because...well, he’s a stranger and I don’t know if it’s safe to have him here. I mean, I know you and I’d trust you with my life, and Mercedes’s, but...”
“I totally understand.” Angelica paused, obviously thinking. “I wonder who he could stay with. We could call Troy’s brother, Sam, and see if he could stay out there. Or Gramps. He could bunk down at the Senior Towers. They have a new rule about no guests staying overnight, but maybe they’ll bend it for Carlo, at least for one night.” She sounded doubtful.
“I hate to make him go,” Fern said. “It’s snowing something awful.”
“Carlo’s been in much worse places. He’s very tough. He can handle a little drive in the snow.”
“I don’t know. He’s pretty shaky.”
“Let me make a few calls,” Angelica said with a huge yawn. “I’m sure I can get hold of somebody who’ll take him in, if this phone doesn’t glitch again.”
“It’s okay, you go back to sleep. I can call Sam or your grandpa.” Fern’s shy side cringed at the notion of talking to men she barely knew, but it would be worth it to get the disconcerting Carlo out of her house.
“Oh, could you? That would be so wonderful. We had a long day, and Xavier didn’t want to go to sleep, and...”
“And you’re frazzled. Go back to bed. I’ll deal with Carlo.”
“Thanks so much! And, Fern, he’s a totally trustworthy guy, okay? A real hero. He took incredible care of me when I was a kid. He managed everything when our parents couldn’t, and got Gramps to take me in. Plus, he’s done all kinds of top-secret military stuff. Has a security clearance that’s a mile high. And he’s served as a missionary in all kinds of super-dangerous places. So you’re safe with him, whatever happens.”
They said their goodbyes and Fern stared at the man on the couch. A military hero, huh? And a missionary to boot.
But as she studied him, another thought crossed her mind: What if he wasn’t Carlo? What if he was a criminal who’d just assumed that name and identity? Sure, Bull had acted friendly, but maybe the guy had a pocket full of good-smelling dog treats.
How could she verify that this guy on her couch was in fact Carlo, Angelica’s brother, the war hero?
She walked around the house, looking at the photo groupings, but she didn’t see any that included Angelica’s brother. Of course, he hadn’t been around lately, but you’d think she would have old pictures of him...
Except that the two of them had grown up in chaos, and Angelica had struggled, really, right up until she’d reconnected with Troy. So there were no pictures of Xavier and his uncle Carlo; Angelica probably hadn’t even had a phone.
She saw a khaki-colored duffel bag by the door, next to his jacket, and an idea crossed her mind.
She looked back at the stranger, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Then she walked over toward his things. Surely he’d have identification