The Hero (5 page)

Mercy had been in no physical danger in the family—it was a family that loved and nurtured the children. The real danger was more subtle—having no independence, no identity, no clear choices; no view of the outside world. And then there were the men whose faces seemed to change regularly, the men who tended and moved the marijuana. The women all knew this wasn’t right, that it wasn’t just medicine, but as long as they were safe and happy they seemed comfortable turning a blind eye to the reality.

And then Jacob began to change. He seemed to move from the morally superior position in his rants to being angry, desperate and paranoid. Now that she’d read the online accounts of the investigation, it seemed obvious—he must have changed as the feds encroached and threatened his authority, turning him into a frantic and anxious man. That’s when the idea of leaving proved to be so much more difficult. He must have been afraid people who left The Fellowship would sell him out. Devon had actually thought about leaving for a long time. The minute her baby was born, Devon thought about leaving, trying to think of what she’d do, how she’d manage, because she didn’t want Mercy growing up in that compound in a pair of soft denim overalls and a long braid. But she didn’t want her to grow up hungry and afraid, either.

And now here she was, back at the beginning, living with a grandparent-type figure taking care of her in a comfortable old house in an old neighborhood.

She poured herself a cup of coffee in Rawley’s kitchen. Rawley and Mercy sat at the kitchen table together, coloring on large sheets of paper he’d brought home.

“What is it?” Mercy asked, pointing to Rawley’s drawing.

“You don’t know what that is? That’s a boat! I have to take you to town pretty soon, to the marina and show you the boats. Those fishermen catch all the fish and crab we eat.”

“How do they catch dem?”

“One of these days I’ll show you,” he told her. “And what’s that?” he asked, pointing to a scribbled picture.

“You,” she said. And then she giggled.

He studied the picture closely. Then he made a whole bunch of dots on the bottom of the drawing.

“What’s that?” Mercy asked.

“Whiskers,” he said, and then he grinned at her.

Rawley looked up at Devon. “Remember Cooper’s girl? Sarah? You met her that first morning.”

“Yes, sure.”

“She asked about you, asked if you was still around. I told her you liked it here, that you were talking about looking for work. She said you should come to the new doctor’s open house this weekend—everyone will be there. You can visit a little bit, ask around if anyone is hiring or looking for help. And you can get a feel for if anyone seems to recognize you—you’re going to have to step out of hiding if you really do want work.”

“I know,” she said. “And that’s why I left The Fellowship—I wanted to live in the world again. I wanted to read everything, hear everything, see everything. I know the world is hard and scary, I know. But, Rawley, prison is scary, too—even if it’s a fine, bountiful prison. I was a teaching assistant in an elementary school for a year—the teacher asked the eight-year-olds, ‘Would you rather be on a deserted island alone or with someone you hate?’ And one little boy answered, ‘With someone I hate so I’d have something to eat.’ We laughed so hard. But that’s what a pure, controlled, perfectly constructed and protected commune can be like. Everything is thought through, down to every chore, every meal, the schedules down to the minute, even what we wore so there’d be no competing or envy. Everything except what people feel. It’s a deserted island stocked with your favorite foods, cozy shelters, protection and comfort. And the inhabitants eventually eat each other.”

Rawley just stared at her for a long moment while Mercy scribbled on her page. Finally he said, “I gotta ask. If someone recognizes you, are you in danger?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. Sometimes people left and it wasn’t given any notice, like everyone just looked the other way. Sometimes they left for good, but others would stay away for a few days and then return. I didn’t leave with permission. I was told I could not take my daughter away. But she’s my daughter.”

Rawley thought about this for a moment, then he said, “Hmm. So, you want to try the doc’s open house on Saturday?”

Again the shrug. “I have to do something. Right?”

“Devon, if you need to get farther away, like way far away, I’ll scrape up some money for a bus ticket.”

“I’m not sure what I should do. But I ask myself—why would they look for me here? Why would they look for me at all? They’re very busy—there are the gardens just starting to yield summer produce, there’s stock, there are children to tend. And they don’t like spending time on the outside. Jacob believes he’s being spied on by the government and by law enforcement, because they want his money and his property. I don’t know how true it is but that doesn’t matter—it’s what he thinks.”

“Jacob?” Rawley repeated.

“The founder. The leader of The Fellowship.” And then she gazed briefly toward Mercy.

Rawley seemed to understand at once. “Ah,” he said. “Well, you look different, Devon. You don’t stand out so much. You can be my second cousin, twice removed, takin’ refuge from a bad relationship, looking for work.”

“Think that would work?” she asked.

“I ain’t gonna kid you, chickadee—if someone from that camp of yours wanders into town and looks you square in the face, they’ll know you. But if one of ’em comes into town lookin’ for a blue-eyed blonde with a long ponytail, Thunder Point folks will say they don’t know any such person. But, you could always scream if you have to.”

“I can. And I used to run track in high school.”

That made him smile. “You got a driver’s license?”

“Had one,” she said. “When I joined The Fellowship, they took all my personal things and said they’d be stored for me. When you sneak out in the dark of night, you don’t get those things back.”

“Hmm. Guess that means you got no birth certificate.”

“Course not. But I think my driver’s license is still valid. I just don’t have it. And I memorized my Social Security Number. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re gonna have to get around, that’s why. I been working on another truck—one left to me. Eventually it’ll be as fine as that old classic red job, but for right now? It runs fine.”

* * *

When Devon and Mercy arrived at the beach bar, ready to go to the job fair, she found Sarah and Spencer sitting on the deck with coffee. She didn’t want to intrude, so she just said, “Hi. I’m here.”

“Whoa,” Spencer said, nearly jumping out of his chair. “It’s a whole new you!”

“That’s darling,” Sarah said, smiling. “Good cut—you look like a young Meg Ryan. It must’ve been hard to part with that long hair.”

“Nah, I was ready to let that go. It’s more trouble than you can imagine.” But she often found herself reaching for that long braid, running a hand down the back of her neck.

“Pull up a chair, we have time. I was just watching Cooper down on the beach.”

Rawley came out onto the deck. “If you want to leave Mercy with me, I’ll show her how we catch the fish. After Cooper gets done on the beach and comes up, we’ll go out on the dock. I’ll make sure she has a life vest.”

“I don’t want you to be stuck babysitting, Rawley,” Devon said.

“Let her go,” Spencer said. “I know how to run the bar if anyone shows up. Austin’s down there already, trying to empty the bay of fish.”

“And I think Landon’s coming in,” Sarah said. “He’ll help.”

“She can’t swim, Rawley,” Devon said nervously.

“She’s not gonna swim. She’s gonna fish. And she’s not gonna eat worms, either. I hope.” He reached for her hand and she looked up at his grizzled face and beamed. “Wanna catch some fish?” he asked her. And she nodded enthusiastically.

Sarah got up, draining her cup once she was standing. “I’m going to run upstairs and change—I’ve been out on the bay this morning. I’ll be back in a minute. Help yourself to coffee. Then we’ll make a run on Carrie’s catered delights at the open house.” And with that she was gone.

Neither Spencer nor Devon said anything until Rawley and Mercy were down the stairs and Sarah had closed the door to Cooper’s upstairs apartment. It was Spencer who said, “Rumor has it you’re thinking of sticking around awhile.”

Devon looked at him sharply. “There’s rumors about me already?”

He chuckled. “Not the scary kind, like that you dabble in witchcraft or eat puppies for breakfast. Rawley mentioned you were thinking about looking for work around here.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Well, it all depends. I’m unknown here. If there were jobs, I’m sure people who have lived here a long time would have them.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I’m from out of town. I came here for a job.”

“Really? What job?” Her interest was immediately piqued.

“I’m the new Athletic Director and coach at the high school.” Then he laughed. “Really, though, I’m a gym teacher in charge of gym teachers.”

She sighed audibly. “A dream job,” she said. “Is your wife athletic?”

He glanced away. “My wife passed away a few months ago. That’s why I wanted to move. Austin and I needed a fresh start.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “My gosh, I barely meet you and I put my foot in my mouth.”

“No harm done. And no, she wasn’t particularly athletic. She liked boating and a little waterskiing, but that was it. And I have to give her a lot of credit—she came to all the games I coached. Not sure she had fun,” he added with a laugh. “But she was there.”

“You must miss her so much,” she said.

“There are tough days. I try to take comfort in her relief. She fought a battle with cancer.... I’m glad that’s over for her....”

Devon swallowed hard. Yet another reminder that as bad as she thought her life to be on some days, here was a brave man who had weathered the ultimate storm—parting with a loved one who had suffered.

“And why Thunder Point? Just the job?” she asked.

“Not just the job, but I’m real happy about that. It’s a surprise, really. I was looking for something in Oregon because Cooper’s here.”

“Ah, you’re good friends....”

“We’re getting there. Cooper’s a pretty okay guy. He’s also Austin’s father.”

“I thought you were Austin’s father.”

He took a breath. “Well, it’s complicated, but here goes. We were living in Texas where I taught and coached. Just before Bridget passed away we learned that Austin is actually Cooper’s biological son. Cooper was engaged to Bridget way back—we honestly didn’t know. So we did the right thing—contacted Cooper, explained to Austin.” He gave a shrug. “So it goes. Life isn’t always cut-and-dried.”

“No kidding,” she said. Co-dads? Just what she needed—another commune. “And it’s working out?”

He gave a shrug. “So far. What about you?” he asked.

“Me?”

“Uh-huh, you. Divorced? Widowed? And why Thunder Point?”

“Never married,” she said. “I was involved, that’s about it, and I am no longer involved. And Thunder Point was just the town at the end of the road. And, of course, Rawley is here and he’s been so kind.”

“Of course,” Spencer said. “And Mercy’s dad?”

Jeez, she thought. She’d better get used to people coming right out and speaking their minds. “Um, not a great father figure. I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

“Oh. He doesn’t know you’re here?”

“I hope not,” she said. “But he knows Mercy is with me.”

“Won’t he want you to come back to him?”

“Me?” she asked. “No, he was clear about that. We haven’t been involved in over three years. And before you pass judgment, he has other women and children—a veritable tribe. Now please, can we let the subject go?”

He frowned at her and she could read his mind. He was a single father; he would have opinions about a woman stealing away his child. He wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t be able to give her the benefit of the doubt. Nice as he seemed, she didn’t know Spencer well enough to trust him with the truth.

“All right,” Sarah announced, coming suddenly from within the bar. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“You bet,” Devon said, standing. “Let me wave to Mercy.”

“I can help with that,” Sarah said. She let go a piercing whistle and everyone on the beach, including Rawley and Mercy, turned toward the deck. They all waved at each other.

“That was awesome,” Devon said.

“Thanks. Cooper taught me.”

Four

W
hen Sarah was slowly making her way up the road to Highway 101 with Devon in the passenger seat, she asked, “Does this outing make you nervous?”

“Oh, yes,” she confessed.

“Just take it slow—it’s not a job interview. I mean, if you hear of something promising, don’t hesitate, but probably the most important thing is just getting a feel for the Thunder Point people. They’re very nice. Sometimes nosy, but good, honest people.”

“I’ll try,” Devon said.

“Of course. Listen, I was divorced after one miserable year of marriage so I’m well aware of how hard it can be. In fact, I moved here a little over a year ago, before my divorce was even final. Getting your confidence back after something like that—it’s not easy.”

“Landon’s not your son?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “My younger brother. It’s been the two of us since he was six. Ten years of being a big sister slash single mother.”

“Wow. You did it on your own?”

“Our parents were killed in an accident—there weren’t any choices about it. And it worked out—more due to him than to my parenting skills, I’m sure. He’s a great kid.”

“And now? You’re engaged....”

That caused Sarah to glance at the ring. “I wasn’t divorced long when I met Cooper. I wasn’t going to get involved with a guy, especially one like Cooper, but he’s relentless. Thank God.”

“A guy like Cooper?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Sarah laughed. “One look at him and I took him for a player.”

“Player?” Devon asked.

“Doesn’t he, though? Look like the kind of guy who could give women a real run? But he’s not—he’s so committed, it’s almost shocking. I was the one on the run—he had trouble catching me. But I am now very, very caught. If you had told me two years ago I could be this happy, I’d say you were crazy. Out of every storm...”

Devon just listened, thinking players don’t always look the way they’re supposed to look. That sexy guy in the torn jeans and T-shirt who showed off his broad chest and muscled arms and shoulders is ready to settle down, but the one she fell for—so morally superior and always quoting scriptures—proved to be a bad choice.

“People don’t always look like who they really are.”

Sarah pulled off the highway and headed for town. “You don’t have to tell me, sister. I caught my husband banging the maid of honor. A stunning moment in my romantic history. So, this doctor’s office, this open house, it’s a small space. I’ll be close by, even if the gathering spills out onto the front sidewalk. If you do lose sight of me, I’ll be waiting at the diner across the street. All you have to do is say hello, visit a little and then let me know when you’ve had enough. And you don’t have to explain anything, even if you’re asked. You’re visiting your distant cousin because he offered, things are fine, you’re just looking around the area, you know...”

“I know,” she said, but in fact she was very grateful for this reminder. She didn’t have to answer those difficult questions—the kind Spencer asked.

Sarah parked across the street from the new Family Practice. There were some streamers and balloons and the front door was propped open. And yes, the office was small. It looked like a storefront in a row of storefronts, sitting right between the sheriff’s department and Carrie’s Deli.

The first person Devon met was Scott Grant, the new doctor, who was greeting people at the door. And the inside of his new practice was smaller than small. She counted room for ten chairs and a coffee table right inside the door, a counter with a swinging half door leading to the back. On the other side of the counter was one desk, some shelves, a desktop computer and a room divider that opened on the right side for people to pass into the back where there must be exam rooms. Though it was crowded, there was room for a small table covered by a festive tablecloth on which sat the snacks and punch bowl. This office space could easily be used for a dress shop, a greeting cards and notions store or a travel agency.

The next people she met were Carrie, her daughter, Gina, and granddaughter, Ashley. Ashley was filling cups with punch while Gina was putting out trays of bite-size sandwiches and cookies. Devon saw Carrie pull a cooler out from under the table and withdraw a storage container filled with a variety of hors d’oeuvres, which were then placed into a cute arrangement on a large tray.

There was a little polite small talk. She met Gina’s boss, Stu, who owned the diner; Gina’s husband, Mac, the town deputy; and a couple of neighboring business owners. Having noticed a few people wandering around in the back of the clinic area, Devon couldn’t resist. It was, after all, an open house. She walked behind the room divider and what she found was a series of cubicles and she knew what they were for. There was a treatment room with a bed, counter, sink, chair, supplies. Then another exam room. She found what must be the doctor’s office—there was a desk and shelves laden with books, and the door actually closed for privacy. There was what could pass for a very small break room containing a little table and two chairs, refrigerator, microwave, cupboards and sink.

Then she heard Sarah’s voice asking the doctor when he would be open for business. “Monday. I’m planning on being open Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday—but I’ll come in if someone needs me. I’m keeping some E.R. hours in Bandon,” he said, then laughed. “I’m working in Bandon to afford this practice. I still have some equipment on the way—most of it is small and portable for now. I doubt I’ll ever have an X-ray but I have a small lab and can do simple tests here. It’s a very compact little setup. And I’m planning to run some specials.”

“Oh?” Sarah asked him.

“Cut-rate school and sports physicals and, in the fall, ten-dollar flu shots.” Devon smiled as she noticed his chest puff up a little.

It was sweet, she thought. Handsome young doctor, brand-new practice, good ideas for bringing in new patients.

“Who’s helping you?” Sarah asked.

“I’m doing everything myself, so far. I need an R.N. or, even better, a physician’s assistant, but no one really wants to work for a part-time practice, and I’m afraid it’ll be a while before I can give up the Bandon E.R. to keep this place open six days a week. I can cover for a good nurse, but the paperwork is going to kill me. What I really need is a top-notch office manager, one who can triage patient needs and keep the forms moving whether I’m here or not.”

“Well, I’m going to be out of work by the end of the summer, but I have no idea what a person does in a doctor’s office,” Sarah responded.

But I do,
Devon thought. It had been a long time, but she’d been a clerical worker in a small neighborhood doctor’s office. She knew how to keep charts organized and up-to-date, file insurance claims, schedule appointments, all that sort of thing. She wondered if she’d find the courage to put herself out there. And just as she was considering this, she was snagged by a woman.

“So, you’re the new girl. From Seattle, I hear.”

Devon looked around a little nervously and the woman laughed.

“Believe me, there’s only one new girl that I know of,” she said. “How do you like the town?”

“I’ve hardly seen it,” Devon said.

“I’m Lou McCain. That’s my nephew, the big guy who won’t leave Gina alone. Come with me, I want to know all about you.”

The woman turned, clearly expecting to be followed, and Devon did so. She wasn’t about to argue.

Lou sat down on one of the chairs in the small waiting room and patted the chair beside her. Devon took the chair obediently, hoping this woman didn’t ask difficult questions because she would be impossible to refuse.

“Your name?”

“Oh,” she said, and laughed self-consciously. “Devon. How do you do.”

“Splendid, thank you. Now, tell me all about yourself. Where are you from? What brought you to Thunder Point? How long will you stay? What do you do?” Then she laughed. “I’m sorry—I’m used to dealing with middle-school kids and my nephew’s kids, who I help raise. I’m an eighth grade English teacher. It’s made me very direct. Kids that age live by the ‘literal minimal’ law—if you give them a question they can answer with one word, they will.”

So will I,
Devon thought.

“I grew up in Seattle. I’ve been kind of a...well, I was in a relationship, but I wasn’t married. I was...ah...you know.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m still single at just a titch over sixty. Never married. However, I’ve had a relationship or two along the way. Just maybe more than two. Never lived with a man, however. I’m thinking about it now, though. My nephew just got married and Gina has moved in with us. It’s very fun, but we are bursting at the seams. And I do have this wonderful... Oh, you don’t want to know about that....”

“Sure I do,” Devon said.

“But where are you staying, darling?” Lou asked.

“My very distant cousin, Mr. Rawley Goode,” she said. “Just when I didn’t know where to go or what to do, he offered me a place. And it gives me time to think about what to do next.” Then she smiled. “I’m also a teacher, though it’s been years.”

“Really? What age?”

“I have a degree in early childhood development. I’d just gotten started on my master’s when I was...sidetracked, I guess you could say. I became a mother.”

Lou smiled. “It sounds like you made good use of your time. We could use a preschool here. Desperately so. But the town can’t afford it and paying tuition would be something most people here could not afford. A couple of people have run the numbers but the bottom line wasn’t good.”

“But is there a day care?” Devon asked.

Right at that moment a young woman entered the office holding the hands of two preschoolers. She was welcomed warmly and Dr. Grant came from the back to greet them. He seemed very happy to see them; he picked up the little girl and ruffled the little boy’s hair.

“The doctor’s children,” Lou explained. “Very cute. They’re three and four. And yours is...?”

“My daughter is three,” she said. “Right now she’s fishing off the dock with Rawley.”

“Day care, you asked,” Lou reminded her. “There are a couple of women in town who babysit in their homes for working parents, but no official day care center. People tend to rely on friends, neighbors and family for that sort of thing. Will you be looking for a sitter?”

“If I manage to find a job, I will,” she said. “How long have you lived here?” Devon asked Lou.

“Here? A little over four years, but I grew up not far from here in Coquille and lived there all my life until Mac took this assignment. As I’m sure you’ve been told, he’s the law in this little town—Sheriff’s deputy with a few other deputies that work for him. It’s a little office, right next door. I’ll be honest—I didn’t want to move, but I’m glad I did. I love the school where I teach and I’ve made good friends.”

“I don’t suppose they’re looking for a kindergarten teacher?”

Lou put a hand on hers. “Not that I know of, sweetheart. But there are a lot of schools in other towns not too far away.”

“I’ll have to call around. I’ve been at Rawley’s house for almost two weeks. I’d better either find a job or move on.”

“Where would you go?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Not back to Seattle?”

“No. I don’t have any family there anymore. I think it’s time for a fresh start. Somewhere.”

“A fresh start as a single mom,” Lou said with a warm smile. “How exciting!”

Devon felt her stomach clench. “Exciting?”

“Yes, exciting!”

Devon just shook her head. “I don’t know. My future looks pretty uncertain right now. And before my daughter came along, I had some pretty lean times....”

“In my life, there seemed to have been cycles—for five to ten years things were up, then followed a long struggle, then things would swing up again. Up and down. I don’t think life is very consistent. But the secret is knowing there’s no limit to the number of times you can reinvent yourself!”

* * *

As the little doctor’s office got busier and more crowded, Devon excused herself and told Sarah she wanted to walk around the town a bit and would be back.

It wasn’t a new or highly polished town, but it was pretty. Devon walked down the sidewalk in one direction then crossed the street and went the other way. She passed lots of small shops, taking note of a store that sold secondhand clothes. There were pots of geraniums hanging from lampposts, window boxes holding roses, and while some of these stores had peeling paint, others looked freshly scrubbed and painted. She peeked inside the diner, an old-fashioned establishment with booths and counter stools. All that seemed missing was a jukebox. She headed down the street toward the marina.

All she had seen from Cooper’s was a marina with some boats, but it was so far across the beach she wasn’t sure what kind of boats there were or how many there were. She was surprised to see big fishing boats, trawlers, sailboats, crabbers. She walked down the street that led to the boat launch and dock. There was a big restaurant at the west end of the marina.

She felt the beach pulling her. It was like seeing a movie from her former life. There was a woman jogging down the beach, reminding Devon she used to love running. She ran track in high school. She saw a volleyball net set up down the beach and a few people batting the ball around. Out on the water were a couple of people on paddleboards and one kayaker heading out toward the mouth of the bay where the frothing Pacific waited. The surrounding hills were steep and rocky and beyond this protected bay, mountains rose in the distance.