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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.”
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.
Spencer had been up for a while. With coffee still in his cup he decided to wander next door to Cooper’s place. He left Austin, sprawled crossways, asleep in the big bed. They’d been sharing a bedroom since moving into Cooper’s RV but sleeping with Austin was like sleeping with the entire fourth grade. Most nights Spencer escaped to the sofa in the living room. As he walked across the deck toward the open doors of the bar, he heard voices...a woman’s voice as she said, “No! Please, no!”
And he stopped. He heard Rawley shush her and say, “Devon, I know where you’re from. You don’t have to give me details and I don’t have to know why...”
Spencer saw Cooper and Sarah out on their boards, skimming across the bay smoothly, the movement of their paddles synchronized. Quietly he took a chair outside the opened doors, shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation. In five minutes, he had the story—this was a young woman with a child who had run away from some kind of commune or religious order. And Rawley was not only going to help her, but he would help her keep it secret. While he was dying to walk into the bar and get a look at this young runaway, he didn’t want them to stop talking.
A few minutes later, Sarah and Cooper were coming in off the water. They stowed their boards against the dock and untied the dog from it. Hamlet made a beeline for the deck. This was Spencer’s cue. He stood and waited for them. First he greeted Hamlet and gave him a vigorous head and ear massage. “Hey, old boy! How’s it going, Ham?” Sarah and Cooper strolled leisurely up the stairs to the deck.
“What’s going on?” Cooper asked Spencer.
Spencer lifted his cup. “I’m out of coffee.”
“You’re always out of something,” Cooper said. “Come on in, Rawley can hook you up. I’m just guessing, but I bet you want breakfast, too.”
“I might, yeah.”
“Where’s the kid?”
“Sprawled across the bed. Snoring.”
Cooper chuckled.
Ham was waiting anxiously, tail wagging like mad, hoping he’d get a treat. The three of them—and Ham—all walked into the bar together. Right away they noticed the young woman with a long braid and a small child sitting at the counter. Rawley looked up from behind the bar and the little girl broke into a huge grin, pointed and said, “Mama! Pony in the house!”
The woman laughed, putting a hand up to her mouth. Her blue eyes twinkled.
Ham went to the child immediately. He was excellent with kids.
“Just a dog, kiddo,” Cooper said. “Want to give him his cookie? Look out, though. He’s got a real slobbery mouth but he never nips.” He fished a huge dog biscuit out of the jar on the bar and let the little girl hold it out toward Ham. She held it in a flat hand, as if feeding a horse. Then Cooper looked at the young woman and said, “Hi. I’m Cooper. This is my fiancée, Sarah. And this is my friend, Spencer.”
“This here’s my cousin’s daughter, Coop,” Rawley said. “Well, second cousin, maybe even removed. Devon. Visiting.”
Cooper tilted his head and queried with his eyes. “Devon...?”
But Rawley didn’t answer. He didn’t answer because he didn’t know Devon’s last name. Finally Devon said, “McAllister. And this is my daughter, Mercy.”
“Pleasure. Rawley, you should’ve mentioned you had company coming. You could have taken the day off.”
“It was a last-minute thing but, if you can spare me, I’d like to show her around a little bit. They might be tired from traveling, too, and I can leave ’em at home and come back...”
“Take the day off if you want it, Rawley. I can handle the shop. Landon will show up to help out when he gets his lazy butt out of bed. And I’ve always got Spencer...”
“You okay with that?” Rawley asked.
Spencer looked at this duo—mother and child. She was plain as a pancake, and yet she was beautiful. She looked very young—early twenties? She was vulnerable, that was instantly obvious. He immediately wondered how she’d gotten trapped in a commune that wouldn’t let her leave. He had this sudden urge to step in, to offer advice or shelter or something.
“Sure,” Cooper said. “If you need more time, just let me know so I can make arrangements. How long are you staying?”
Again, the young woman didn’t respond but Rawley said, “That’s up in the air. I told her she can stay for a few days or weeks—it ain’t like she’ll be in my way. If you’re sure you don’t mind, we’ll hit the road, then. You ready?” Rawley asked her.
“Thanks. Nice meeting you all.”
And the three of them moved slowly out the back door, climbed into Rawley’s truck and the engine roared to life. It was two minutes before the truck was traveling up the road to the highway.
Then Cooper looked at Sarah and Spencer. “Rawley doesn’t have any family.”
“Well, second cousin, removed...” Sarah said.
“With no warning they’re coming?” Spencer asked. “Nah, they’re not family. I’d bet my last dollar on that.” For some reason he couldn’t quite explain, Spencer didn’t tell them about the conversation he had overheard between Rawley and Devon.
“It does seem strange,” Cooper agreed. “Rawley’s a little odd, but he’s not, you know...?”
“A kidnapper? A serial killer?” Sarah offered.
“More likely he found ’em hitching or panhandling. People don’t know this about Rawley, but he’s generous. Softhearted. He doesn’t like to let on that he has a helpful nature. He’s on the gruff and silent side, but he’d give anyone the shirt off his back. When we went through all Ben’s things after he died, Rawley took the old clothes to the VA, but he washed ’em first. Bags full of ’em. He has a generous nature—he gives a lot. I’m not so much worried about that woman and her little girl as I am about Rawley. I hope they don’t fleece him.”
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Spencer suggested. “What if that’s what happened? What if she’s desperate and takes advantage of him?”
“Well, I could try,” Cooper said. “But it might be hard getting anything out of him. That Rawley...he takes pride in saying as little as possible.”
“That girl looks about fifteen,” Spencer said, frowning. “He must’ve found them in trouble somewhere.” He glanced toward the dishes on the bar. “He fed them.”
Two
Rawley drove Devon to the Walmart nearest his home. He parked in the big lot and looked at her. “Your people ever go to the Walmart?” he asked.
“Not that I know of,” she said. “And I never did while I was there. But I have some clothes.” The clothes were in the backpack left outside the fence for her. She hadn’t looked at them closely and didn’t know if they’d fit, but the backpack was stuffed with things for her escape.
He reached up to the sun visor overhead and pulled out a ball cap. “Tuck that braid up in this,” he said. “Get yourself a few things, grab some stuff for Mercy. Get yourself any other lady things you might need. Things no sixty-three-year-old bachelor would ever have laying around. I’ll get us some groceries. We’ll try to be quick and not make a stir—don’t want you to give yourself away. Can we do that?”
She nodded, tucking up her braid. “I have forty dollars,” she said.
“Look,” Rawley said. “I know you’re worried. I know you’re suspicious of me and of everybody, and rightly so. But you’re not a prisoner, and even if you decide you can’t stick around you’ll want to stay clear of that camp. You shouldn’t look like you came from there. And you don’t have to run off in the night, all you have to do is say you need a ride somewhere and I’ll take you. Hang on to your forty dollars. You’ll need it, I figure.”
“I was there by choice,” she revealed. Until she wasn’t.
“Well, it’s your choice not to be there now. Let’s just get ’er done. Then you can relax and get a little rest.”
As for not making a stir, the second they walked in the door, little Mercy used her loudest voice to look around and say, “Mama! What is this place?”
It took Devon a second to recover, but recover she did. She pulled Mercy’s little hand and said, “Just a very big store, honey. Now please use your very quiet voice and come with me.” At least Mercy hadn’t called her Sister Devon. That was the way Jacob liked it; no one was a mother or a father, a husband or a wife—they were all brothers and sisters. Which made his behavior seem pretty damned incestuous.
Of course Devon remembered visiting a Walmart—it’s not as though she’d forgotten her life before the family. She grabbed her daughter’s hand and a cart and sped through the women’s and children’s clothes. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of shorts, two shirts, socks, underwear, tennis shoes. She bought the exact same items for Mercy. She added two hoodies, in case they had to flee in the night, and then a few incidentals including brushes, combs and toothbrushes. And—because he was right—she bought a pair of scissors. She had to stop looking like one of them.
She met Rawley by the checkout. Her heart was racing. So, here she was with a scruffy old guy who had given her a ride and now wanted to help her even more and just by the look of him alone she should be worried. But the tall, handsome, soft-spoken Jacob with the ready, welcoming smile, who had so much to offer when she was in need, had never worried her for a moment. And he was the one she should have been worried about!
In his cart Rawley had groceries and... She looked closely. He had a safety seat for Mercy for the truck. It was an old truck and the cab was small, but it had seat belts. She was touched beyond words. That safety seat meant so much more to her than all Jacob’s promises.
The new seat had to be strapped in by the door and there were no seat belts for the middle seat. She had to sit next to Rawley without belts while Mercy rode in the passenger seat. Still, it was better than walking or hitching.
Had it been possible, she would have held her breath all the way to Rawley Goode’s house. She kept telling herself she was safer in this old man’s truck, or in his home, than she would’ve been had she stayed with the family at the compound. She kept telling herself this was safer than hitching rides. Despite her racing imagination there was something she had not been prepared for. When they pulled into the driveway of a small brick home in a neat little neighborhood, she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. It was like the house she’d grown up in. When they went inside, she stopped right inside the door, right in the little living room, and almost collapsed in relief and emotion. This could be Aunt Mary’s place! The furniture was different but probably just as old, complete with those familiar doilies on the tabletops and arms of the Queen Anne chairs and sofa. It was small, the rug over the hardwood floor threadbare, the wood furniture distressed but polished. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God.”
She put Mercy on her feet. “Mama, where’s the kids?”
Devon got down on one knee. She put the bags she carried along with her backpack against the wall. “We’re having a vacation. And I think you need a nap.”
“I don’t want a bacation,” Mercy whined.
