The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(22)

Devon came to several sudden conclusions. She had done nothing wrong by taking her child out of a commune in which the biological father was conducting illegal business. He would never seek legal help to get Mercy back—not only did Jacob believe he knew everything, he didn’t trust courts or law enforcement or government. Then there was his elaborate marijuana growing operation. Devon had no idea who he sold it to or how the business was handled. There were new faces around the commune from time to time and the men who lived there came and went with regularity. And, of course, one of these days Jacob would be caught and he would go to prison.

What she now knew with blinding clarity was that his “cult” was a front for his drug operation. It was a perfect distraction to have a God-loving, hippy-dippy, granola-natural, free-spirited commune that only appeared to live off the land and to do so modestly. Devon also realized that each woman there, including herself, had been targeted and recruited very carefully by Jacob himself. Devon shuddered at the reality of it all.

* * *

The next day Devon went to work and Mercy went to Dr. Grant’s house to play with his children, Jenny and Will, watched over by Gabriella, the sweetest and most beautiful nineteen-year-old Latina she’d ever met. Gabriella had known Dr. Grant and his family since she’d been a small child. They had a good arrangement—she managed his household and he paid her college tuition—organizing their schedules to accommodate his work and her class schedule.

Devon quickly learned the routine in the doctor’s office, which could be boring at times, since it was so slow. She scheduled a few appointments; improved his filing system; updated his computer files and even swept, mopped and dusted the office.

Devon brought her lunch from home but she took her coffee breaks across the street at the diner where she could count on seeing some of the women she’d met. Many people passed through the diner and in no time she’d become a familiar fixture. Sometimes, when it was just Gina McCain and herself in the diner, or maybe Sarah as well, she found herself revealing parts of her story.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when those women both chimed in with their own stories of bad relationships with men. It was almost like a rite of passage, surviving relationships that were not meant to be.

Spencer often found a reason to stop by the new clinic. She shouldn’t have been surprised as she knew he was very curious about her. But he claimed he was just interested in how the doctor could help out with physicals for the members of the football team and the other high school athletes. Devon prepared a flier for Spencer complete with a price list. Scott was pleased with her initiative and Spencer took some fliers back to his office at the high school. He stopped by a couple more times to pick up more fliers. “You haven’t been back to the beach lately,” he said. “And the weather’s been perfect.”

“I’ve been working,” Devon said with a laugh. “You know, you can take more of these fliers and then you won’t have to keep coming back here.”

He counted out ten fliers. He grinned handsomely. “I’m good with these for now,” he said.

And he was back two days later for ten more. Although the doctor’s hours were posted on the door, Spencer always seemed to stop by when Scott wasn’t there.

In fact, a lot of the townsfolk stopped in from time to time. They wanted to know if the practice was going well and if Dr. Grant had patients yet, and if Devon was getting along all right. Between the diner and the practice Devon grew into the town, and the town grew into her.

After just a couple of weeks, Scott was impressed enough with her job performance that one day, out of the blue, he said, “I’d say your trial period is over and we can increase your pay.”

As her new life fell into place, Devon grew more comfortable. She always kept her eyes sharp but never saw so much as a suspicious vehicle drive through town. She made a trip to the DMV, took and passed her driver’s license test, and now had ID to go with the rest of her new life. Once she had socked away a thousand dollars in her savings account she indulged in a few things for herself. A blow dryer and a nice circular brush, and a few cosmetic items she hadn’t used in years. Now the proud owner of a credit card, she bought some things online where they were often cheaper, but were delivered right to her door.

Along with the other changes, her appearance began to take on a new and improved look. She began to feel like the person she could barely remember.

“Why, Devon,” Lou McCain said. “I knew you were a pretty thing the first day I met you. But, child, I love what you’re doing with your hair these days. And if I’m not completely mistaken, you look like you’ve gained a little confidence.”

A lot of confidence, Devon thought to herself. A large part of that came from realizing she could get a good, stable job and do it well but, perhaps, a larger part came from having women friends again. It was great just having friends to talk to about everything and nothing—from failed love affairs, new romances, family issues, even politics. The best parts of Devon’s week were those days she took a coffee break at the diner with Gina, Sarah, Carrie, Lou and Ray Anne. She missed her sisters at The Fellowship. They hadn’t always agreed or gotten along, loyalties shifted and adjusted, but they had relied on each other.

When Devon found out Ray Anne was a real estate agent, she said, “I’ve been very happy staying with Rawley, but I’d really like to have my own place. And I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”