SEAN COULDN’T MAKE himself go directly back to his cabin. He had way too much energy.
So he strode down to the beach and walked. And walked, and walked some more. Listened to the waves crashing against the shore, and felt like his emotions were crashing and churning right along with them.
Why had he acted so caveman jealous around Anna?
Why was she leaving, and where was she going, and would she and the girls be okay once they got there?
He caught a piece of driftwood and threw it into the water, hard. A couple of shells and sea-polished rocks followed.
Why had he pushed them away, made her unwilling to be close to him?
What was wrong with him?
That was what it came down to: there was something wrong with him. He’d always known it, but Ma’s wise words had given him a reason why. His mother’s leaving had scarred him.
So it wasn’t just about him protecting others from his own bad blood. It was him being afraid, afraid of being left.
He hated to admit such a wimpy way of thinking, even to himself, but admitting it was the only way he could start to heal. Now, for the first time in his life, he was truly motivated to change. He wanted to be able to be close to Anna. To protect her and—he swallowed as he realized it—to love her.
He walked a while longer, thinking about his family, reaching for faith that he could change.
When he arrived back at his cabin, he remembered the box of mementos from the past. Before, he’d tried to burn them.
But Ma had said they were important, and now he’d promised his brothers that he wouldn’t destroy them. Moreover, he felt a slight pull of curiosity. He went and got them out of his truck.
He picked through the photos and papers, and as he did, his chest began to ache. They’d had happy days with their mom, before the terror had started.
He studied a picture that showed him and Liam fishing with their mom. They all loved fishing now, especially him and Liam, and this was where it had come from: their mom. She’d looked happy about it, too, holding a big fish up for Liam, while Sean grinned beside her with an even-bigger fish of his own. Cash had undoubtedly snapped the picture; he’d never liked getting his hands dirty.
He leaned closer to study his mother. She was pretty, slim, with long hair, dressed in jeans and an old T-shirt. A lump rose to his throat as he remembered how much he’d loved her, and how awful it had felt not to be able to protect her.
Not to be able to save her, that last time.
He thrust the photo away and dug on through. When he unearthed a devotional book and cross necklace, that brought up the fact that they’d used to go to church together. Not with their father present, not ever, but somehow his mother had gotten three young boys acceptably dressed and over to the little church down the road from their house. She hadn’t mingled a lot; they hadn’t gone to Sunday school or Bible school or activities, but she’d made them sit in a row and pay attention.
Ma Dixie had done the same, when he’d come to live with her. She’d dragged her motley crew of foster kids to church every Sunday. He grinned to remember the ear-pinch technique she’d used to keep them quiet, his hand going to his own ear in remembered pain. You’d only had to experience it once, and you sat up straight and at least pretended to listen to the sermon.
At the bottom of the box was a dictionary. He pulled it out and more memories came. His mother had loved words. She’d made up games where they had to guess a definition. If they’d ever asked what something meant in a school reading, she hadn’t answered, but rather had sent them to this book.
Later, when he’d moved in at Ma Dixie’s and gone into his near-delinquent stage, he’d shoved the dictionary into the box and forgotten about it. Now he flipped through, looking at the tiny illustrations and remembering how he’d studied them as a young boy.
He kept flipping and came to an envelope. They must have used it as a bookmark. He pulled it out.
His heart stopped.
On the front was written three names: Sean, Cash and Liam.
In their mother’s handwriting.
SEAN ARRIVED LATE to the Southern Comfort Café the next morning, his steps slow and heavy, his truck exerting an almost-magnetic pull to keep him away from the place.
Normally, when he met his brothers, Sean was first to arrive.
Today, he’d barely made it at all.
As expected, the others gave him a hard time about being late.
“What’s got you in a mood?” Liam asked.
“You look like crap,” Cash added.
Sean slouched into the booth, banging his knee on the too-low table, glancing around at the usual crowd, inhaling the scent of coffee and pancakes. “Anna’s leaving town,” he growled. “And this.” He slapped the envelope onto the table.
“What is it?” Cash grabbed the envelope and pulled out the handwritten letter inside.
Liam stared at Sean. “Anna’s leaving? How’d you find out?”
“I went to her place last night and—”
“Did you apologize for freaking her out at Ma Dixie’s?”
“I tried.” Sean reflected back over the scene, and it didn’t sit any better this morning than it had last night. “She basically slammed the door on me.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Somewhere in there, she also mentioned she was leaving.” He hesitated, and then added, “She looked at me like she was afraid of me.”
At that, both Cash and Liam looked up. Scaring a woman, even accidentally, was no joke to any of them, not with their genetics. “Why would she be afraid of you?” Cash asked.
“Because she could tell I wanted to know who was visiting her.” Sean waited while Rita, the waitress, poured their coffee. “There was a car outside her place I didn’t recognize. I guess she thought that was intrusive.”
“Depends on your motive,” Liam said. “Did you want to make sure she was safe, or did you want to keep her away from other men, other people?” They all remembered their father’s insistence that no friends—theirs, but especially, their mother’s—come anywhere near the house.
“Both,” he growled.
“Makes sense.” Cash tapped the letter he’d been scanning. His skin was pale. “And apparently you were always like that. She has me pegged, too, and Liam.”
“Who has us pegged?” Liam grabbed for the letter. “Gimme that.”
Sean blocked Liam’s arm as Cash held the letter out of Liam’s reach. “Careful!” they both snapped at the same time, too loud, and the murmur of voices in the café died down for a moment. “We only have the one copy,” Sean said in a quieter voice.
Cash handed the letter to Liam. “From our mom. It doesn’t say much. Seems like she was writing fast.” His voice sounded a little choked.
“This was in the box?” Liam asked.
Sean nodded. “In an old dictionary. I guess that’s why we never saw it. I know I didn’t crack a reference book in high school.”
Liam unfolded the letter carefully. “We could run forensics on this, see if we could find her based on handwriting.”
“We’re not going to find her,” Cash said.
“She probably didn’t make it.” Sean forced out the words. “We’ve always thought that.”
“I want to.” Liam took the letter and scanned it. “She says here that if anything happens, she’ll move heaven and earth to...” He broke off, shrugged, looked away.
Sean clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder, gave him a rough squeeze. Yeah. It wasn’t like there was much to say about a letter like that. A line about each boy, advice to them based on their personality. She was sorry about their father. She loved them so much. All in messy, scribbled-across-the-page handwriting.
But it was a link they hadn’t had before.
“Here you go, boys.” Rita placed a breakfast in front of each of them. “I’ll get you more coffee, too. And—” she pointed at Sean “—ketchup for you, hot sauce for the other two. Right?”
“You got it.” They all dug in, or pretended to. Liam kept looking at the letter, and Sean and Cash watched him. At a time like this, they both worried about him; he was the youngest, had always been the most vulnerable.
“Hey, I saw Tony at the Pig again last night,” Cash said before putting a forkful of eggs Benedict into his mouth. He was trying to distract Liam, Sean could tell.
It worked. “With the Mahoney brothers?” Liam glanced up from the letter.
“No, he was alone. But the place was full of lowlifes.” Cash shrugged. “Nobody I knew, but a couple of ’em were from out of town. Montana plates.”
Sean’s entire body tensed. He looked at Liam. “That’s where Anna’s from.”
Liam pushed the letter away and, just like that, snapped back into police mode. “Why don’t you give her a call?”
“I would,” Sean said ruefully, “only I don’t think she’ll answer it. She’s pretty mad at me. Could you call her?”
“Will do.” Liam scrolled through his contacts and clicked. When she answered, he asked, “You okay?”
There was a rapid exchange, and Sean wished he could hear Anna’s side of it. Liam didn’t tell her about the Montana plates, only that there were some strangers in town, some rumors.
“Okay, well, call me if anything comes up.” Liam looked up at Sean. “Or even better, call Sean. He’ll be close by.” He clicked off the call. “I did what I could for you, man,” he said, giving him a fist bump. “You’d better live up to it. Keep an eye on her.”
The hairs on the back of Sean’s neck tingled. He intended to do just that.
THE CAFÉ WAS QUIET, aside from the three brothers talking so intently, so Rita gathered up her courage. No time like the present to finish her talk with Abel. She checked in with her few customers, brought checks and carried out a meal, and then headed into the kitchen.
Abel’s cleaver moved rapidly over a heap of peeled potatoes, chopping them into small, symmetrical slices. He turned to the grill, drizzled oil from a plastic bottle and then set the potatoes to sizzling. He was picking up a large tin saltshaker when he saw her standing there watching.
“Want a turn at cook?” he asked, offering her the spatula.
“No way. Can’t live up to your reputation. But I’d like to talk to you when you get a minute.”
He shook seasoning onto the potatoes and then gestured to a young guy in a baseball cap. “Keep an eye on these, would you?” Then he waved a hand toward the back door. “We can chat outside.”
They got out there and he looked at her in that all-knowing way of his. “What’s up, Miss Rita?”
She forced herself to open her mouth. “Was there anyone with me?” she asked through a tight throat.
He studied her for a moment and then gave a slow nod. “Yes, ma’am, there was.”
Her heart leaped. “Who was it? What kind of person?”
He looked off down the alley and then back at her. Patted her shoulder with a long-fingered, bony hand. “You had three young boys with you.”
She stared at him. “Three boys... How young? Were they mine?”
“Boys about, I don’t know...ten? Twelve? Fourteen? They were stairsteps.” He held up a flat hand to indicate successive heights, as high as her chest, then her shoulder, then her chin.
She felt like she was choking. “Abel. Were they mine?”
“I have no way of knowing for sure,” he said quietly. “But if the way you looked at them was any indication...then yes. I’d have to guess they were yours.”
A voice called from the kitchen, and Abel called something back. Then he took her arm and led her inside, through the kitchen, to a counter stool at the back of the café. “Sit down here and get your bearings. You’ve had a shock.”
She sank onto the stool at his gentle push. The world seemed to reel around her, and her stomach burned with anxiety and hollowness.
She crossed her arms over it and leaned forward, staring at the restaurant’s tile floor, trying to breathe.
Finally she caught her breath, but kept her arms clutched across her middle, the realization nudging its way throughout her body.
I carried three boys in here. Not one, but three.
And then I lost them.
Confusing emotions and images swirled through her mind, kaleidoscope-like. She swallowed and looked around for a glass of water, but of course, there wasn’t one. Terrible help here.
She gripped the edge of the counter and leaned forward. Mustn’t fall, mustn’t create a scene.
Mustn’t upset the boys, no matter how much it hurt... Mustn’t upset the boys...mustn’t upset the boys...
“Rita!” The voice next to her ear was low and kind.
Jimmy.
“Let’s get you back to my office. Abel said you were sick.” He slid an arm around her and lifted, and she tried to get her feet under herself, but still ended up leaning most of her weight on him as he helped her through the door that led into the kitchen. They walked through the frying and boiling and curious stares, and then into his office.
He eased her down onto his padded desk chair.
Abel, his face wrinkled with concern under his white chef’s hat, looked in. “She okay?”
“Could use a glass of sweet tea.” Jimmy threw the remark over his shoulder, felt her forehead and then knelt beside her, hand on her wrist. “Do you have a doctor in town yet?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Not...that kind...of sick.”
“Here you go, boss.” Ice cubes clinking, a few low words she couldn’t understand.
The next moment, Jimmy held a straw to her lips. “Take a little sip.”
She did, and swallowed, and then all of a sudden tears were coming out of her eyes. A lot of tears. Tears like she hadn’t cried since way before T-Bone died.
She felt Jimmy’s arms go around her. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not!” She shut her mouth against the confession that wanted to come choking out.
His arms tightened, and he stroked a hand down her hair, which had to be altogether out of her ponytail at this point. “Whatever it is, I’ll help you deal.”
That made her cry harder. Who was this man, that he was so good to a woman he knew nothing about? That he was letting her cry onto his white work shirt, now a mess of mascara and lipstick and tears?
Finally her tears slowed and she pulled her head back. He reached over his shoulder and found a box of tissues and held it out to her.
She blew her nose and wiped her eyes and gestured at his shirt. “Sorry about that.”
He shrugged, smiled a little. “I’ve had worse things happen than holding on to you.”
That was when she realized how close together they were, and something primitive took over. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
Just a gratitude kiss, but he gave a little growl and cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer.
Her wrung-out, cried-out body woke up and begged for notice. And then there was nothing but this man, his strong arms, his warm lips.
Finally, he came up for air, turned his head to the side and pulled her to his chest. “I’m sorry.” Then he put her away from him, holding her by her shoulders. And then he backed away and stood.
She wiped her eyes and nose again, not sure where to look. Not sure what to feel. All her emotions were a big tangled mess inside of her.
Jimmy cleared his throat. “Take the rest of the day off,” he said. “I’ll walk you out to your car when you’re ready.”
“I didn’t drive,” she managed. “I can make it home. Just...give me a minute.”
She went to the ladies’ room and got herself cleaned up enough that she could walk down the street without people calling the cops. And then she headed out the almost-empty diner’s front door, hoping Jimmy was too busy in the kitchen to see her leave.
Outside the restaurant, the biggest of the brothers she’d waited on, Sean, stood beside his truck, looking like he was trying to decide something.
Jimmy came striding outside the restaurant, putting an arm around Rita. “I can walk you home.”
Sean looked over. “You live at Magnolia Manor, right?” he asked. “I’m going that way. I can give you a ride.”
“Thanks—that would be great,” Rita said, adding to Jimmy, “Go back to work. They need you in there.”
Jimmy looked back at the restaurant and then at her.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, and squeezed his arm. “Thanks for giving me a hand in there.”
His gaze was steady and warm. “I’m here for you. Hope you know that.”
She nodded, and as he strode back into the restaurant, she turned to Sean. “Thanks for this,” she said.
“Sure, no problem.” Sean held the door for her.
Once inside, it only took a moment. That smell. She remembered it.
Was she hallucinating, or was that the scent of her own child?
Covertly, she watched Sean as he drove, comfortable and capable, someone to be proud of. She had no memory of any child she’d borne, just a few flashes and feelings.
And this sweet scent, and the awareness that, yes, Sean had two brothers and had been eating breakfast with them. She cleared her throat as hope rose in her. “What were you and your brothers arguing about back there?”
“There’s someone I need to help out,” he said, “only she’s not speaking to me.” He flashed her a rueful grin. Making light of a situation that must be heavy on his heart, in the joking way you did that when talking to an acquaintance, not a real friend.
Not your mother.
A deep, sorrowful ache spread through her chest. If he were her son, surely he’d remember her.
“Want me to help you up the stairs?” he asked as he pulled up to her apartment building.
“No. I’m fine. Jimmy’s a worrier.” And she was about to start bawling.
“Stay there. I’ll get your door.”
When he opened it, she let him help her out, and something compelled her to address him seriously. “Listen, none of us knows how long we’ve got. If there’s something you need to say to your friend, some way you need to help her, don’t wait. Do it now.”
He grinned. “Thanks for the motherly advice,” he said. “You sure you’re okay to get yourself inside?”
She couldn’t speak, so she gave a little wave and hurried off toward her apartment door. Cleared her throat hard so she could call a respectable “thank you” over her shoulder.
Then she went into her apartment and fell apart.
ANNA PUSHED THE wheelbarrow of seedlings in garden-store flats toward the cottages’ newly restored kids’ playground, hoping the heavy physical activity would calm the anxiety that had licked at her stomach ever since Liam’s phone call two hours ago.
Why had Liam called her? What was going on? He’d been completely vague, said there was probably nothing to worry about, which had freaked her out more than if he’d said what he was really thinking.
Had someone been watching her as they’d left Ma’s last night? Were she and the girls safe?
Where was Sean?
She stopped the wheelbarrow beside the strip of garden she’d prepped yesterday and scratched Blackie’s head, grateful for his peaceful presence. He’d warn her of any trouble, and for sure, at his size, he’d scare off Beau.
Then she dug another hole, took a purple vinca seedling from the wheelbarrow and patted it carefully into the sandy soil. It was a perfect South Carolina day, the sun warm, the breeze from the sea keeping the humidity away, the sky a rich azure blue. It was satisfying to plant flowers around the benches and play structures, to imagine guests enjoying the beauty once the seedlings had grown into flowers.
But instead of relaxing into her work, she had a sick feeling in her stomach. She kept stopping to look behind her, squinting into the dark low country vegetation.
Which was ridiculous. Beau didn’t know this part of the country; he wouldn’t be able to sneak around like some native hunter. He’d be arriving in a loud truck and stomping through the brush, cursing when he tripped over a root or got a boot sucked into the mud.
She was so glad the girls were safe at the library program, not isolated here. Last night in the car, when she’d thought there was someone in the swamp near Ma Dixie’s, had been ten times more terrifying because she’d felt the girls were at risk.
Come to think of it, no way could Beau have been behind the light and boat out at Ma Dixie’s place. He didn’t know how to sneak around the swamps and bayous in a rowboat or canoe. He was Montana born and bred. He could barely swim.
The thought cheered her. She’d been happy that they could stay away from Ma’s isolated place, since the library program was all day for the length of spring break. But actually, they were probably safe out there, too. After this week, they could go back.
Unless they all moved on.
She continued planting, thinking about her upcoming Skype interview. Rafael had shown her the job description, and Miss Vi had agreed to be a reference; with Yasmin’s help, she’d finished the application last night and emailed it in. Amazingly, they’d already called her this morning.
So if she passed the GED exam and did well in the interview, Anna had a chance at a job as an aide in a GED support program in Charleston. Something way more professional than she’d ever dreamed of doing.
In Charleston. So she could get away from Sean O’Dwyer and all the pain he brought just by being near her.
As fast as the worry had faded and the relief had come in, tears arrived, making her blink away the blur before she could place another plant. She’d fallen hard for Sean—she could admit that now. He’d seemed so kind, so good to her and the girls. So sexy, when you got down to it, with his muscles and his rugged looks and his gentle, slow touch.
Just over there, at the cottage visible through the pines, they’d started getting to know each other, clearing away brush and doing renovations.
How had they gotten so at odds so quickly?
Stop thinking about it.
She tried, but couldn’t. His face, his deep-pitched voice, the way it had felt when he’d touched her—all of it washed through her mind, as repetitive as the distant surf she could hear pounding rhythmically against the shore. Her heart filled with a terrible loneliness.
She’d valued his friendship and she’d loved working side by side with him. She’d never met anyone so companionable in her isolated life. That he was handsome and sexy and about as male as you could get, that was awesome, but it was the loss of his friendship she was going to miss the most.
Blackie gave a friendly bark of greeting, lifting his head but not getting up.
“Anna?” came a voice from behind her.
She brushed dirty knuckles underneath her eyes and turned. Yes, it really was Sean. She hadn’t conjured him out of her imagination. She cleared her throat. “Hey.”
He didn’t speak, but tilted his head to one side, studying her.
“I’m almost done with the plants for the playground.” She rose to her feet and pulled the wheelbarrow back so he could see. “Is that okay?” Her voice sounded almost calm. Thank heavens he couldn’t hear how rapidly her heart pounded.
“I just wanted to check on you.” His voice sounded oddly formal.
“On my work, or...” She trailed off. What else would he want to check on? He’d made it clear he had no interest whatsoever in her as a person.
“Where are the girls? At Ma’s?”
“No, they’re at the library program. It’s all day this week.”
“That’s probably...good.” He stood there, looking off into the surrounding trees, looking at the plants. Anywhere but at her.
What on earth was going on?
She replayed what he’d said in her mind, and her heart started a dull, heavy thudding. “You said you wanted to check on me.” She stepped closer, to where she was right in front of him. “Why are you checking on me and the girls? Why did Liam, earlier?”
He met her eyes for the briefest second and then looked away. “It’s just a precaution.”
The pounding in her heart sped up, making it hard to breathe. “You didn’t ever check on us before, so what gives?”
“I... Liam didn’t think we should worry you.”
Her jaw about dropped. “Sean, if you don’t think I’ve been worried every minute since I’ve arrived here, you’d be dead wrong.” With the possible exception of when you were holding me. She drew in a breath, held it a second, let it out. “Tell me what’s going on. If it concerns me and my girls, I need to know.”
He pressed his lips together, still looking indecisive.
He was trying to gauge how much to tell her, and it made her want to punch him. “Would you stop being all sexist protective male and just let me know what’s happening?”
He looked at her then, directly. “A truck with Montana plates is a rare thing to see in Safe Haven.”
Her whole body went cold. “What did it look like?”
“Newish, red, Chevy.”
She sighed with relief. “That’s not Beau’s. Besides, his would never make it this far.”
“Good.” He still studied her. “Do you think he’d have borrowed one?”
Tension rushed back in. Beau had a number of low-life friends, and trucks were the obsession of a couple of them. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “I’ve felt like someone was watching us a couple of times, but I just attributed it to me being paranoid.”
“When?” Sean was instantly alert. “Where?”
“Here, a couple of times,” she said. “And out at Ma’s.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were barely speaking to me?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but she couldn’t focus on those feelings, either. “I’ll check on the girls.” She slid her phone out of her pocket and found the library’s number. The familiar voice at the other end reassured her. “Miss Vi? It’s Anna. Are my girls there and okay?”
Miss Vi laughed, deep and cackly. “Oh my, yes. They’ve been outside having a scavenger hunt all over the library grounds, finding clues from a story. They seem to be having a wonderful time.”
Relief surged through her. “Thanks. I guess you’re right. I’m overprotective.”
“They’re lovely girls,” Miss Vi said. “You’re welcome to call anytime.”
She clicked off her phone, the tension leaving her body to the point where she had to sink down beside the plants. “False alarm. They’re fine.”
“That’s a relief.” He stood there, not moving to go away.
“Was there...something else?”
“Look, Anna.” He knelt to her level, reached over to scratch Blackie’s head. “About the other night...the way I’ve been acting...” He trailed off.
Her heart almost flew out of her chest but she made herself keep looking into his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Look, I’m sorry if I—” He broke off and turned toward the thick vegetation that separated the play area from the cabin next door. “What was that?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Blackie looked in the same direction Sean had been. He let out a low, rumbling growl.
Sean got up and walked to the edge of the trees, looking into the dark interior of the narrow forest. Blackie followed.
Uneasy, Anna stood and tiptoed over to where he and the dog were standing. If Sean had heard something, then maybe she wasn’t imagining things after all.
Her phone buzzed, making her jump.
Sean looked once more into the trees, then shrugged and turned back to her.
She clicked to silence the phone, then glanced down at the lock screen. “It’s the library,” she whispered as she clicked it on and walked away from Sean, back toward the cabin.
“Anna?” It was Miss Vi’s voice, worried this time. “I went to double-check on the girls. They’re actually not here.”