The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(3)

Rawley leaned on the bar. “You know, there’s this place on the river. Some kind of religious group. They call themselves The Fellowship. I could drive you out there, see if they’d take you in for a while, fix you up with some—”

“No!” she said hotly. “Please, no! If you could just give me a lift to the highway.”

He held up a callused hand. “Shh,” he said. “Devon, I know you’re from there. I don’t know why and you don’t have to tell me, but it’s pretty clear you needed to be out of the place if you’d drag your kid out in the dark of night and walk over a mountain.” He frowned. “She is your kid, ain’t she?”

“Of course!” She looked down. “I got a ride over the mountain. I should just get going....”

The child looked like her mother. Rawley was just checking. “Just sit. I can help you out here. You and the little one would be safe while you figure things out. You don’t have to be out on the highway, takin’ your chances.”

She just looked at him with those big blue eyes, her peachy lips parted. Her daughter continued to move Frosted Flakes around in her bowl, apparently oblivious to the conversation. “Why?” she whispered.

“I told you why. You need details? There was this war you’re too young to even know about and I came home a mess and no one wanted any part of me, of any of us. A lot of us wandered, just trying to forget or get the noise in our heads to stop. We had the VA but folks didn’t even know how to help Vietnam vets. Like I said, I took a lot of charity. I worked some here and there, slept on the street some, helped out at the VA some. Now—I got a house and a job. That’s my story. You keep yours till you feel safe. But, girl—we’re gonna have to make some changes ’cause I knew where you came from the second I seen you walkin’ down the road.”

Her eyes got pretty round at that, but she remained mute.

“The overalls, the braid... Once Cooper—the boss—gets in here and decides to start work for the day, I’ll take you somewhere to get clothes that don’t just holler commune-for-Christ or whatever that is you come from.”

“The Fellowship,” she reminded him quietly.

“And, if you are trying to keep a low profile around here it wouldn’t hurt to cut off that braid or something. You think that’s a good idea?”

She chewed her lip a little bit, thinking this over. When she did speak she said, “I know about Vietnam.”

“Be glad you don’t remember it.”

Thinking again she said, “Maybe I’m not far enough away. From the compound.”

“You think some of them might come lookin’ for you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, not really. They’re not bad people. But...”

Rawley let that hang a minute. “But?” he prompted.

“They didn’t want me to leave. And I did anyway. And we’re not going back,” she added vehemently.

He cleared his throat. “Then we play it safe. If you see any of ’em snoopin’ around, you better sound the alarm. I’ve been in this town almost every day for over four years and no one from that place ever came here. My house is in Elmore, a thirty-minute drive from here and I ain’t never seen any of ’em there, either. I guess there’s a chance some folks from around here have been to that produce stand, or what you call the compound, so I reckon getting yourself a new look makes sense. There’s just one thing you’re gonna have to do to make it work.”

“What’s that, Mr. Goode?”

She remembered his name. Sharp for someone who’d been up all night and was probably worn to a nub.

“Gonna have to trust a stranger, miss. That’s what.”

Again she dropped her gaze. “Last time I did that...”

“I can figure that much out without the whole story,” he said. “I thought that place was safe. A refuge. Bent on charity and good works. But if it was a good and decent place, you’d have left in daylight with money in your pocket. I’m old and I’m jaded but I ain’t stupid.”

“For a while, it was a refuge and it saved me. For a while.”

“Here’s what we do, miss. We get you some Walmart clothes and I’ll take you and the little miss here to my house. You’ll have a safe and warm place to lay your head. There’s food in the fridge. You might wanna pretend to be kin—like my second cousin’s daughter. I didn’t have no direct family.”

Devon actually smiled at that. “Neither did I, Mr. Goode.”

“Might wanna call me Rawley for good measure.”

“Rawley,” she said. “I’m not sure...”

“Devon, you’re stuck with trusting strangers right now. It ain’t safer thumbing rides on the highway, I guaran-damn-tee. This’ll at least give you time to think and be safe while you’re doing it.”

* * *

Spencer Lawson was new to Thunder Point. He’d taken the job of Athletic Director and coach at the local high school and he and his ten-year-old son were living in Cooper’s fifth wheel while looking around for a place to rent. He had to admit, while it was a little tight on space, especially in the bathroom, it was not only convenient but it was a pleasure to wake up every day and see the bay. He didn’t have much of a kitchen in the RV, but then he wasn’t much of a cook. Besides, right next door, Cooper had the equivalent of two kitchens and a nice big outdoor gas grill.