The Hero (21 page)

“He’s feeling like the ass he is,” Devon said.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bledsoe said. “You’ve been crying.”

“Wasted tears,” she said. “It’s probably my fault. I probably pushed him into a serious relationship. I didn’t mean to, but I think I did. Because he asked me to give him some time to think about this. About us.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling. “Don’t worry too much about that, lovey. Men have an enduring reputation for things like that.”

“Asking for think time?”

“No. For being stupid.” She shook her head sadly. “I don’t know what it is. Men do things like that regularly. Take these silly time-outs. Like it erases all the important things on their minds. Haven’t you noticed?”

Well, no, she hadn’t. Because when had she had a man? There had been a couple of boyfriends when she was young and then there was Jacob, who didn’t count at all because he was not a steady guy: he was a benevolent despot. Spencer was nearly her first. The first guy to love and want her exclusively.

“I had a husband, a son, a grandson and I eat up these romance novels. Everyone knows men can’t stand to be confronted with their feelings. They’d rather wrestle alligators.”

“Maybe I should read more of those,” Devon said.

“I have a few recommendations and a ton of books if you ever want to borrow a few.”

“Maybe I will,” Devon said. “I think I’m going to have a little free time all of a sudden.”

Seventeen

A
shley cornered her mother in the kitchen. “Can I talk to you and Mac tonight? For a couple of minutes? Just you two?”

“Of course. Is anything wrong?”

“Not at all. I have something to run by you. It’s not really for the whole family.”

“You’ve got me on pins now,” Gina said.

“Is Mac here tonight? He’s not working?” When Gina shook her head, Ashley said, “See you here right after dinner? When the kids have scattered?”

“Perfect.”

Before the dishes were even done, Mac and Gina sat expectantly at the kitchen table. Eve had gone to their room to talk to Landon on the phone while the younger kids were in the basement with the piano, computer and TV. Ashley looked at her mom and new stepdad and laughed. “I really didn’t mean to alarm you. I wanted to talk to you about Eric.”

“What is it, honey?” Gina asked.

“I went shopping with him, you know. And we had lunch. And he was telling me that someone has been after him to sell his body shop. At first he just said it wasn’t for sale, but then he started thinking about it and wondered if just maybe he shouldn’t do it. I guess the offer is pretty good, but I don’t have any idea what that means. But...he said he’s been looking around at other things, other opportunities, if he did decide to sell. He said it’s almost an offer he can’t refuse. I told him I hoped it didn’t mean he was moving even farther away and he said there was a potential thing in Thunder Point, but he was worried about it—he asked me if Thunder Point was big enough for the two of us. Everyone would take one look at us and know—he’s my father.”

“Oh, jeez,” Gina said. “How do you feel about that?”

“I’m okay with it,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve introduced him as my biological father to people we’ve met. It doesn’t bother me a bit. In fact, I’m kind of proud that he wanted to meet me once he found out about me. But then the conversation went to you guys. He doesn’t want to put it to you directly—he doesn’t want to blindside you. He said it might make you two uncomfortable. You know, dredging up the past, which was kind of a scandalous past for you. Mom, I know you didn’t have it easy when you were this teenage mother with the missing boyfriend. Then, he reminded me, add to that the fact he went to prison. Holy crap, huh? I mean, that isn’t a big deal for me—I didn’t go to prison! And he’s pretty embarrassed about it, but he said he’s never tried to hide it. He said it wouldn’t work to try to hide it—it would always be found out eventually, so he admits it and that’s all there is to it.” She shrugged. “He turned his life around. It’s a good thing.”

All Gina said was, “Thunder Point?”

“Yeah. Well, here’s what he said. He said if he approached you with the possibility—and it’s still just a possibility, he hasn’t accepted the offer on his body shop or anything—but he said you’re the kind of person that would tell him to just do the thing that worked best for him. You’d just be nice about it. That’s why he asked me to tell you and Mac about this, give you time to talk about it, give him an answer that really fits what you feel and not just the nice answer. Because he promises no matter what he does next, he’ll see me now and then, just like he does now. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if he lives nearby. So, could you guys talk it over? Really talk it over? Decide how you really feel about the idea? And then I’ll tell him. Okay?”

“You mean to say he’d turn down a good move to this town if it made me uncomfortable?”

“Mom, I know he’s sorry about the past, about the loser he used to be. He said you’re in a new marriage now and wants to make sure you don’t feel, you know, embarrassed by him.”

Gina looked at Mac. “That’s kind of sweet.”

Mac frowned. “It’s kind of sweet as long as he doesn’t have feelings for you.”

Ashley laughed. “Do you think he’d dare? Actually I think he has feelings for me. And while we were driving home, he admitted he’s scared to death of Grandma.”

“He probably should be,” Gina said.

“So, don’t answer the question. Talk about it. Be sure. Because you could be stuck with the answer.”

“And, Ash? This would make you happy?”

“I’d be okay. But, Mom, I’m almost out of here. Another year or two, I’m on my way to college and then—whatever comes next. I don’t know if I’ll live in Thunder Point the rest of my life. I know I’ll visit a lot if you’re here, but where Eric lives isn’t that big a deal. We’ll stay in touch. This has a lot more to do with you and Mac.”

* * *

Devon was on the quiet side at the clinic. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t very busy—just young mothers with small children who weren’t in school and one woman who stayed home from work with a terrible sore throat and fever. Scott fixed her right up with a strong antibiotic and did a throat culture for possible strep.

And of course he noticed Devon’s mood, though she tried to act bright and happy. “I sense trouble in paradise,” he said.

“Maybe I’m coming down with the flu,” she said, borrowing Spencer’s excuse.

“That’s okay, Devon. You don’t have to talk about what it really is.”

And she said, “Thanks. I can’t at the moment.”

She was being completely honest. She couldn’t talk about it without tears threatening. She was trying so hard not to hope and pray he’d call to say he’d been a fool who overreacted. She wanted to be as over him as he apparently was over her. She was failing in her mission, but suspected Spencer was succeeding in his—she didn’t see him. At all.

She finally dragged herself over to the diner for a coffee break and found Gina in her usual place behind the counter. There was a trio of elderly ladies in a booth, gossiping and laughing up a storm. A lone man sat down at the end of the counter, finishing up either a late breakfast or early lunch.

“Well, hey,” Gina said. “Where have you been?”

“Just working,” she said.

Gina automatically poured her a cup of coffee. “What did you and Spencer do over the weekend?”

Well,
she thought.
Word usually travels much faster.
She wondered if Spencer was keeping this little issue they had to himself. “Well, let’s see,” she said, sipping her coffee. “We had a raucous game of Candy Land with the kids on Saturday night...then a bowl of ice cream...”

Gina laughed. “Isn’t being a single mother dating a single father romantic?”

“And then I think we broke up.”

Shock showed all over Gina’s face. “Are you kidding me?”

Devon shook her head. “I think it was something I did. I think I screwed up.”

She could tell Gina was momentarily speechless. “What could you have done?”

“I asked him for something, and I didn’t think it through very well. I should have waited. It was too soon, but at the time it felt safe enough. I reminded him that I have no family, just Rawley, and he’s not really family. So I asked if we’re a couple and something happens to me, would he watch over Mercy. Take her on. Take her in. And it was like he closed the blinds right at that moment. Pulled down the shades. Closed the door. He said he thought he was sick, but that was an excuse to avoid me. I tracked him down at Cooper’s on Sunday and he leveled with me—he isn’t interested in getting that serious. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Gina poured herself a cup of coffee, shaking her head. “Oh, brother.”

“He doesn’t really want more family. He’s in a different place. His singleness is not so single as mine—he’s got Cooper and Sarah to look after Austin. He said he’d take on Mercy if something happened to me, but he needs some time to think about us. He’s been thinking for a few days, so I’m done. I’m adjusting to that idea.” She sat back and pasted a fake smile on her face. “I’m all right on my own.”

“Maybe a little time is really all he needs?” Gina ventured.

Devon sighed. “Yeah. Well, I spent a few days fantasizing he’d call saying he just panicked...but the call didn’t come. And tempting as he is, I really don’t want a guy who feels like he’s all in and then he suddenly freezes up like that.”

“Maybe it has something to do with his late wife?” Gina suggested.

“Oh, definitely. He mentioned that, but we’ve talked about her before, about what a huge life lesson that was for him. He seemed so stable, so right with the world, you know? But he’s got secrets—did you know his parents both died last summer?”

“I knew about his dad. He left Austin with Cooper and went back east to see him buried. But I didn’t realize...”

“I think Spencer has stuff to work out. And I know I have stuff to work out. I think maybe this is for the best, much as it hurts. We shouldn’t be working stuff out on each other.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Gina said, sipping her coffee. “I’m just so sorry. And surprised. Not only do you seem like one of the least troubled people I know, so did Spencer. I don’t know him well, but I know him.”

“We don’t always advertise our baggage. You know?”

“I know. Someday we’ll have a glass of wine and I’ll tell you how well I know about that.”

“I guess everyone has their stuff,” Devon said. “You know, I look at all my new friends and they all look like they have everything in life figured out and sometimes I feel like the only person with a past to put in perspective. Sometimes I pray one day I can be like everyone else.”

“There is no everyone else, Devon. Life is complicated and difficult for everyone. Absolutely everyone. And you shouldn’t feel alone. You’re just like the rest of us—hard stuff to work through so you can have a stable, productive, happy life. There’s no reason you can’t. If you ever start to feel like the struggle is bigger than you are, there’s help. I have the name of an excellent counselor.”

“Really? Because that was suggested to me, but I’m not sure I can afford one.”

“She has a sliding scale based on income. My insurance helped, but I would’ve had trouble paying her fees if it hadn’t. If you ever want her name, if only to find out what the fee might be, just let me know.”

“Is she a friend of yours?” Devon asked.

“No, sweetheart. She was my daughter’s counselor. She got us through a very rough patch. Counseling works.”

* * *

Devon gave the idea of counseling some thought through the afternoon. She might look into that, but for now she was determined to get on with her life. She picked up Mercy from Gabriella and took her home. Once there she asked Mrs. Bledsoe if she could keep an eye on her for a little while so she could get a little exercise. While it was still light, a run on the beach would solve some immediate problems, like feeling sorry for herself. And if she saw him or he saw her, she would just run in the other direction.

“A half hour? Maybe forty-five minutes at the most?” she asked Mrs. Bledsoe. “She had a snack and I’ll give her dinner when I’m back.”

She was about twelve minutes into her run when the adrenaline kicked in and she was reminded that what had just happened with Spencer was probably normal. It was probably the kind of complication “regular” people go through when forming relationships, but she’d gotten a little off the track because of her unusual circumstances. People who lived in the real world, people who weren’t so alone and screwed up probably examined and reexamined their relationships constantly.

Spencer was not in evidence on the beach. She didn’t see him on the deck, either. She ran across the beach as far as the dock, then back across and up the hill, past Spencer’s house to her own.

And in front of her house was the deputy sheriff’s car!

She sprinted to her door and burst inside. Mrs. Bledsoe, looking so small sitting on her secondhand sofa next to Mac, was weeping into a tissue.

“What?” she shouted. “What is it?”

Mrs. Bledsoe struggled for control. “He took her,” she said. “He said he was her father and he took her.”

Devon looked at Mac. “Jacob?” she asked. “Was it him?”

“Sounds like it was. I’ve notified the sheriff and the FBI.”

Looking back at Mrs. Bledsoe, she demanded, “What did he look like?”

“I don’t know,” the poor woman faltered. “Tall. Dark hair. A little gray, but not much. Strong. He told me not to try to fight him or I’d get hurt. He said this was a dangerous world and he was taking Mercy to a safe place. Oh, my dear, I was so afraid of him!”

“And what was he driving?” Devon demanded.

“I don’t know. It was blue. It was a truck,” she stammered.

“What else did he say, Mrs. Bledsoe?” Devon said, getting right in her face. The older woman backed up, clearly frightened by Devon. “What did he say?
Exactly!
”

“That Mercy was his daughter. He said, ‘Come here, Mercy,’ and she went to him. He picked her up—she wasn’t afraid of him. He said, ‘No one takes my child from me,’ and that if I tried to stop him I’d get hurt. I had to go home to call the police, but I came right back here. I couldn’t stop him, please believe me.”

“How long ago?” she asked.

“Half hour, maybe. Not long after you left. I called Mac right away,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Devon grabbed her truck keys off the kitchen counter and ran for the door.