The Hero Page 19


Author: Robyn Carr


“Sure. That’s awfully nice of you, after I disrupted your sleep in the middle of the night.”


“Nah, not that serious. I was just reading.”


“Where’s Gabriella?”


“Sleeping in. I have no idea when Charlie brought her home, but it must have been very late. Sunday is her day off unless I have something going on. I’m on call for Bandon E.R. today and if they call, I’ll need her. She usually spends Sundays studying or with Charlie.”


“You could just call me,” she said.


He leaned toward her. “How’m I gonna do that, Devon?” he asked.


“Right. No phone. I’m going to have to take care of that. Maybe I should take the kids down to the beach, let them see the flower arch, play in the water a little bit. I’d be happy to do that. In fact, it’s the least I can do.”


He flipped a clown pancake onto her plate and she thought, This is so normal. I’ve longed for normal for five years. A few kids, a nice guy in the kitchen, a regular house, work, family...the usual kind of family. She laughed and said, “So, you call this a clown, huh?”


“My best effort,” he said.


“It kind of looks like a...squirrel.” She cut off what appeared to be the tail, popping it in her mouth. “Now it looks more like a clown...or a hamster.”


When breakfast was over, Devon took care of the cleanup and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher. Then she drove home with Mercy and they changed into clothes for the beach before heading to the marina to meet Scott and his kids. Will and Jenny were toting a mesh bag full of beach toys. “You sure you’re up to this?” he asked. “I was called to Bandon. I could be a couple of hours.”


“I can handle the three of them, no problem. But I can’t get them all home. I just have the one booster seat.”


“We can trade cars,” he suggested. “Just put Mercy’s seat in my car. I’ll take your truck.”


“Perfect. Now be gentle with her—she belongs to Rawley and he restored her.”


The transfer was made and Scott said, “Gabriella is at home, standing by, in case I get stuck at the E.R.”


But Devon was leaning into his beautiful new vehicle. She was smelling the car. “Wow. I might just take this baby out for a little spin. Is this new?”


“Pretty new, yeah. You’re going to have to drum up some business for me at the clinic so I can pay for it.”


“What a great car. I’ve never in my life had a new car....” She removed the key to the truck off her key ring and handed it to Scott.


“Someday, Devon,” he said. “Probably not while you’re working for the tightwad doctor, but someday.” He took the truck key from her. “This seems to be working out well. Kids and all.”


“Kids and all,” she said.


With three little kids in tow, she grabbed up the towels, the sunscreen and toys. They went about halfway down the beach before they stopped. Devon spread out their towels and slathered their wiggly, excited little bodies with sunscreen. She laughed at their excitement and told them, “Water’s edge, only. No farther than your knees!”


This was Devon’s comfort zone—she loved children, especially at this age. She found them precious, hilarious, brilliant, trusting. They could also be very bad, but she’d never wondered what to do—Aunt Mary had had the patience of Job and had taught her well.


They had all played in the water and the sand for about an hour when someone plunked down beside her and she turned to see Spencer sitting next to her.


“Good morning,” he said.


“What are you doing here?”


He pointed to the dock. “Austin wants to take out one of the boards and if someone isn’t close by to watch him, he gets out too far. He wants to be like Landon—taking that board all the way out to the mouth of the bay. And he’s fighting us on the life jacket issue.” He nodded toward the littler kids. “The doctor’s kids?”


“Yes, he’s on call and I volunteered to babysit,” she said.


“Listen, about last night...”


She laughed in spite of herself. “Regrets, Spencer?”


“If I offended you, I’m sorry. If I didn’t offend you, when can we get together?”


A huff of laughter escaped her. “While I’m flattered beyond reason, maybe we should talk....”


“About?”


“About how it might be way too soon for you to think about relationships. Your wife has been gone how long?”


“Not long and yet, a long, long time. And I think you should be aware—I seem to have a drinking problem.”


She tilted her head. He hadn’t seemed the least bit drunk last night. “Oh?”


“Yes.” He circled his knees with his arms. “Apparently if I drink three beers I’ll do any damn thing I please. Whether or not it’s a good idea.”


“I see,” she said, laughing. “So this is about regrets....”


He sighed. “I can be more suave. You should try me.”


She turned toward him. “Spencer, you seem to be a very nice guy, but I warn you—I’m painfully out of practice at this. And it’s possible you’re just lonely.”


He turned toward her. “Devon, my wife was a wonderful woman. I didn’t deserve her. That’s a fact. And she battled cancer for almost four years. She had brief periods of respite, but every time the cancer would come back harder. Stronger. We fought it together till the end. Was I lonely? Yes, absolutely. If I could’ve taken it on for her I would have. In the end I was glad she could give up the fight—it was terrible for her.”


Devon was quiet for a long moment. Finally she said, “You must miss her so much.”


“Of course. But that’s not why I danced with you. That’s not why I kissed you.”


“Then why?”


His eyes darkened; his brows hooded them. “I wanted to. That simple. I really, really wanted to.”


Oh. My.


“Listen,” Devon said. “We should probably put our energy into a friendship. I think maybe we both have a great deal to overcome.”


“I know I do,” he said. Then he stood suddenly, whistled and shouted to Austin. “Too far! Get back here!” Then he sat down again. “I really don’t know much about you. We’ll work on that friendship thing and maybe...” He shrugged. “Maybe you’ll tell me about it one of these days.”


“Tell you what?”


“Where you really came from. Who Mercy’s father is. What you’re worried about. Your friends can’t help you unless they understand.”


Uncomfortable, she looked away. Just briefly. But it was long enough for her to catch sight of a black SUV with darkly tinted windows driving down the road from 101 to the bar. She gasped. She covered her mouth and then checked the little kids—they were playing at the edge of the bay not fifteen feet away, digging deep holes and filling their buckets with wet sand. She looked back at the car. And she started to tremble.


“What?” Spencer asked. “What is it?”


She gripped his wrist. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, God...”


“You’re afraid of that car.”


“I have to go.... I have to—”


“Are they here for you? Looking for you?”


“I have to...” She stood. “I have to...”


“Stop,” he said. “Just stay right here. Sit down and don’t move. I’ll go see who they are, what they want. Don’t run—just keep an eye on the kids and Austin.”


“I know who they are,” she said, her face white as chalk. “I know what they want.”


“Then know this. You’re safe when you’re with me.”


Ten


Spencer whistled at Austin, giving him instructions to stay close to the dock, and telling him he’d be right back. Then he took the stairs two at a time to the bar, entering from the deck just as a man entered from the opposite door that led from the parking lot. Cooper was not in sight, probably busy with his family the day after his wedding, and Rawley was behind the bar. He sat down on a stool at the bar.


The man wore jeans and boots and a light blue denim long-sleeved shirt, although it was summer. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hands and forearms bore a few thin scars, what you would expect from a farmer or rancher.


“Help you?” Rawley asked.


“Yes, sir. I’m looking for a woman, sir. She’s kind of tall. Blonde. Around thirty-five or so. She’d have a seven-year-old boy and a pregnant girl with her.”


Rawley frowned and shook his head. “She got a name?”


“Reese,” he said. “Boy’s name is Mark, her son. She has her sister with her and the girl is due to have a baby real soon. They’re missing and I’m out trying to track her down....”


“Missing from where?” Spencer asked.


The man didn’t answer immediately. “Near Myrtle Creek. Farm near Myrtle Creek.”


“You family?” Rawley asked.


He shrugged. “More or less. I’ve known her a long time. I work the farm and we’re all...worried.”


“What’s she driving?” Rawley asked.


He shook his head. “She didn’t take a car. I think she got picked up.”


“Got a number we can call if we see her around?”


“You haven’t seen them, then?” he asked.


“Hasn’t been anyone new around here in a long time. My cousin was here last year, going through a divorce, ye see, but she’s gone back to Texas. Anyway, she’s way over thirty-five. You worried they been snatched?”


“We’re worried in general.”


“You talked to police?” Rawley asked.


“It’s family business,” he said. “If you haven’t seen her, I’ll just...”


“Wanna leave that number? How long they been gone?” Rawley pressed.


“It’s just been a day or two, but there’s no reason they should go anywhere. Especially without saying where they were going. It’s a mystery.”


“I’ll be glad to keep an eye out—I’m in this town ever day. And this here guy—he’s in town ever day. You’ll watch for her, eh?” he said, looking at Spencer.


“Of course. Yes.”


“Now. That number?” He pushed an order pad and pencil toward the man and watched while he wrote down numbers. “Anything turns up, I’ll give you a call, Mr....”


“Johnson,” he said. “Name’s Johnson.”


“Thing about this place, Mr. Johnson—it’s real small. One main street, no apartments for rent, no jobs—most folks are either fishermen, local workers or they hold jobs out of town. There ain’t nothing going on.... I been here for years. A couple of women and a kid come here, it’s real obvious. We got tourists, mostly for the beach. And I watch over the beach. If your people pass through, I’m bound to notice.”


“Thank you, sir,” he said politely. “Appreciate it.”


Seconds after the door closed, Rawley looked out the back door and Spencer went out to the deck. He was hoping Devon wasn’t watching the black SUV—that might tip them off. But she sat on the sand, ball cap pulled down, watching the children and Austin, who paddled by them, remained very close to the shore. Good girl, he thought.


Rawley came back behind the bar and wrote down some letters and numbers—license plate. Then he looked at Spencer with piercing eyes. “Devon tell you about herself?” he asked.


Spencer shook his head. “That first morning, when you brought her here, I heard you and her talking. I’ve never said a word to anyone.”

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