The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(2)

They were a private bunch, but he knew they had a roadside stand near their compound where they sold produce, quilts and woven goods. He’d only stopped once and had seen a group of them gathered around the stall, the women doing the business and the men helping with the heavy work, but mainly just presiding over everything. And he’d seen a few of them wandering around the Farmers’ Market in Myrtle Creek where they sometimes had a stand, again the women together in a tight knot and the men following along or standing behind them, watching.

He had never given the group a second thought until this morning when he found the young woman and her child walking down the deserted road at dawn. Now he wondered what that group was all about. Beautiful, young, smiling, soft-spoken women apparently watched over by big, silent men who were clearly in charge.

The girl seemed skittish, so Rawley played his cards close to his vest. As they drove the twenty minutes to the beach at Thunder Point he kept the conversation light, only saying things like Gonna be a right fine day and Fog’ll burn off the water early today and Should get up around seventy degrees, and that’s a heat wave on the ocean.

She kept very quiet, offering the occasional Mmm-hmm but nothing more. Her little girl rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and a couple of times they whispered quietly to each other. As they drove down the hill toward the bar she saw, for the first time, the beach sheltered by the rocky coastline, the bay studded with giant rocks and the fog at the mouth of the bay just lifting. All she said was, “Wow.”

“Pretty, ain’t she?” Rawley replied.

Moments later they arrived at the bar. Rawley parked out back behind the building and used his key to open the place up. It was 6:00 a.m.

“Come on inside, sit up at the bar and I’ll put on the coffee and heat up some eggs. Got some fruit, too. And Cooper, the owner, he likes his Tony Tigers—you or the little one like Frosted Flakes?”

“Anything is very generous,” she said. “And appreciated.”

“Like I said, I passed your way plenty of times. I got a lot to pay back.”

As he turned to get things started, Rawley noticed the coffee was already brewing. He looked out the window and saw a lone man out on the still bay on a paddleboard. That would be Cooper, getting in a little early morning exercise. And as he watched, a Razor ATV came across the beach with a big black-and-white Great Dane riding shotgun—Sarah, Cooper’s woman, must have a day off from the Coast Guard.

Good, he thought. Cooper and Sarah would be out on the water for a while. That would give him enough time to figure out what to do with Devon. Because obviously something needed to be done. A woman and a small child with a single backpack out walking the back roads at dawn with no money and no plan... It didn’t take a genius...

He wet a cloth with warm water and handed it to Devon in case she wanted to wipe the grime of the road from her hands and face, and she did so. Then wiped off her daughter’s hands and face, muttering a very soft “thank you” as she put down the cloth.

Rawley got started with the food. He put out a fruit plate, a box of Frosted Flakes, two bowls, utensils, a carton of milk, a couple of small glasses. Then he pulled two egg sandwiches out of the cooler and popped them in the microwave.

Devon served her little girl, sharing everything. When the egg sandwiches arrived she gave voice to her thoughts—“So much food.”

“Traveling makes a person hungry,” Rawley said. And then he poured himself a cup of coffee. While they tucked into their breakfast he wandered out to the deck to think. He wanted to see where Cooper and Sarah were, and give Devon and her little girl time to get some food in their stomachs. If he watched them eat, they’d try not to eat too much—a man who’d been hungry and had taken charity knew this.

Hamlet, the Great Dane, was tied to the dock while Sarah paddled out to join Cooper on the bay. Rawley propped open the doors to the deck so Cooper would know he was on duty and that the place was open for business. A few moments later as he stood on the deck with his cup of coffee, Cooper waved. Rawley lifted a hand back. Then he watched them glide over the calm water, chasing the fog out of the bay.

By the time he went back inside, Devon and her little girl had put away a good deal of food and that made him smile. He went back behind the bar with his coffee. “Fill you up?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” she said, giving her mouth a pat. “If you’ll write down your name and address for me, I’ll try to repay the kindness when I’m able.”

“I’d rather you pass it on, Devon,” he said. “That’s what I try to do when I can.”

“Of course. I’ll do that, too.”

“So. Looking for a larger town? One with a shelter?”

“That seems a good place for me to start,” she said.

“Mind if I ask? What put you in these straits?”

She took a breath and stroked her daughter’s back. “It’s not complicated. I lost my job and couldn’t find another. I got some benefits and food stamps, but it wasn’t enough to pay the rent and I didn’t have family to take me in. So, here I am.”

“What kind of work you lookin’ for?” Rawley asked.

Devon laughed a little bit. “I’ve been working since I was fifteen, I can do a lot of things. Office work, waitress work, worked in a nursing home for a while. I even worked on a farm. I cleaned, cooked, worked in child care a lot—once I was a teaching assistant in a preschool. I went to college. But none of those things paid enough to keep me and Mercy comfortable. I had a boyfriend, but he left. See?” she finished, tilting her head to one side. “Pretty simple. Just rotten timing. Bad luck.”