RITA WIPED THE café’s already-clean counter and straightened already-organized napkins and silverware as she waited for her friend Norma’s arrival. She loved the woman, no question, and they’d been strong supports to each other in Maine. Her visit would probably be great.
It was just that Norma knew why Rita had come to Safe Haven, and she would realize, instantly, that Rita was doing nothing to pursue her goals. No way could Rita distract her for the entire week of her visit.
Thing was, the bad possibilities had gotten more vivid to Rita since she’d moved here. What if her child had been taken away from her by social services? What if she’d been an unfit mom, even a criminal?
But ambivalence wouldn’t wash with Norma. She was direct and blunt and sure of herself, and she’d push Rita further than she necessarily wanted to go.
Still, when she looked out the window and saw Norma’s aqua-blue vintage Plymouth Falcon, top down, her friend grinning and waving from the driver’s seat, she couldn’t restrain her own big smile.
Leaving your home behind, everything and everyone you’d known for twenty years, was exciting, and it was working out well. But there was a lot of loss, too.
She ran out into the parking lot and caught Norma just as she was getting out of her car. “You came! I didn’t know if you really would!”
Norma hugged her close, then put hands on her shoulders to hold her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you.” She cocked her head to one side, swooped her eyes down Rita from head to toe, then back up. And then she smiled. “This place agrees with you,” she said. “Must be all the sunshine. I want me some of that.”
“Come in. I’m working until six.” She slung an arm around Norma, escorted her inside and sat her down at the counter next to Pudge LeFrost and his son. “I’ll bring you a milkshake. You’ve lost weight.” She studied her friend. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just skinny.” Of course, there was a lot Norma wasn’t saying, a lot they had to catch up on. Norma had been diagnosed with stage three breast cancer a couple of years ago, and the treatments had been rough. Hopefully, though, her remission would last.
Rita hurried around to her tables, taking care of everyone, explaining about her best friend, and soon lots of people were talking to Norma. Which was good. Rita was hoping that, once Norma saw what it was like here, she might move down. Not much keeping her up North at this point.
Claire sat at the counter, too, eating salad, so Rita leaned over to her. “Make sure Norma is okay,” she said, knowing Claire liked to make herself useful and had never met a stranger.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re walking tomorrow, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. As long as I can bring Norma along.”
“I don’t have the wind I used to,” Norma admitted.
“Quitting smoking would help.”
Norma stuck out her tongue. “Know-it-all.”
Next, Jimmy came out of the kitchen and Rita introduced him, hoping her face didn’t color up too much. She focused on Norma. “She’s a therapist who took early retirement,” she explained. “Hoping she might see fit to move down here.”
Jimmy smiled at her, raising a “hang on” hand to someone calling him from the kitchen. “It’s a good place for a new beginning. Nice to meet you.”
As soon as Jimmy went back behind the counter, Norma tugged Rita closer and whispered in her ear. “’Bout time you found a man your own age.” She was grinning broadly.
“I didn’t find him and he’s not my man,” Rita said, keeping her voice low.
Norma just laughed. “Don’t forget, I’m trained to see past all those defenses. We’ll talk.”
And they did, as soon as Rita’s shift ended and she was free to ride back to her apartment with Norma.
“Your new friends seem nice,” Norma said. “That Claire, she’s a talker, but sweet. Pretty, too. Just needs someone to tell her not to wear those flowered leggings. Skintight patterns aren’t a good look on anyone.”
“I don’t understand half of what young women wear these days,” Rita admitted.
“No kidding,” Norma said bluntly. “You’re on the opposite end of the scale. You’re too pretty to dress as old as you do.”
She guessed Norma had earned the right to give her advice, since she’d been the one to counsel Rita through the early days of her amnesia. Norma could have made the big bucks in private practice, but she’d chosen to be the psychologist for a low-income health center. After their clinical relationship was over, they’d become good friends.
Rita led the way to her apartment and ushered Norma in, setting the woman’s small suitcase in the guest room, and then she came back out. “Listen to yourself,” she said. “You’ve got criticism for what Claire wears and what I wear. While you...” She gestured at Norma’s plain shirt and shapeless jeans. “You’re not one to talk, you know?”
“I’m not looking to attract a man,” Norma said bluntly. “That’s all over for me.”
“We’ve talked about that. It doesn’t have to be. A good man will look past your cancer scars.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. Anyway, this talk isn’t about me—it’s about you. What’s going on between you and your hot boss?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?” Norma raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Well, not nothing,” Rita amended, her face warming. “I just... I’m not ready.” She opened her fridge and pulled out a beer and a pitcher of sweet tea. “Drink?”
“I’ll take tea, and you’re changing the subject.”
“Maybe I am.”
Norma took the cold glass of tea and sat down at Rita’s little kitchen table. “I’m glad to see you all set up here. Place came furnished, did it?”
“Yep. The decor’s not half-bad, and the furniture’s comfortable. That’s all I need.”
Norma looked around thoughtfully. “It’s as nice as what you had with T-Bone.”
“Which wasn’t really me, either.” She’d cleaned up the place from T-Bone’s bachelor days, but had never put her own decorating stamp on it.
Hard to do when she didn’t really know her own style, nor anything else about her past.
“Anyway, about you and men,” Norma continued, “what you had with T-Bone wasn’t really a marriage, not at the end. You were his nurse.”
Rita didn’t deny it. “I was his wife. That’s what you do. Caring for him when he’s sick is part of it.”
“Yeah,” Norma said, “except you weren’t his regular wife, just common law, until the very end. Yet you did more for him than a lot of wives would do. Kept him at home when everyone was telling you to put him in a convalescent center.”
Rita pulled out a chair and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You know why. T-Bone saved me from dying. Nursed me around the clock when I was completely out of my mind with that head injury. Changed my bandages and carried me to the bathroom and spooned chicken broth and Jell-O into my mouth. You don’t think I should have taken care of him when he got sick?”
Norma took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket.
Rita glared at her.
“I know, not in here.”
“Not anywhere! You’re a cancer survivor.”
“I know, I know. I’m trying to quit.”
Rita rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, yes, T-Bone did a lot for you, but he got plenty out of it. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and he wasn’t exactly a looker. When he found you on the side of that road, he knew it was the best he’d ever get.”
“Norma! T-Bone had plenty of smarts. He could fix anything with a motor, and he could grow anything, nurse any dead plant back to life. It doesn’t matter he wasn’t handsome.”
“Maybe not, but looks were sure important to him. Your looks, I mean. He loved that you were pretty. Bragged about you all the time.”
“He had the right. He helped to make me that way, all those plastic surgeries to fix my face. That’s half the reason he didn’t have money. He spent it on me.” She looked down at the table. “I miss the man, even though I know he’s in a better place.”
Norma snorted. “Saint Peter had to order him a supersized robe and pair of wings. But that’s not the point.”
“What exactly is the point?”
“Point is you haven’t ever had a real, good-looking man you chose yourself. So grab on to this Jimmy while you can, girl!”
“I don’t know that I never had a handsome man before. I don’t know what I had before.” Rita sighed. “When you and I worked together, I got to the place where it didn’t matter. And then T-Bone told me he’d actually found me here. Not on a deserted stretch of highway like he’d always said.”
“Which is why I can’t swear that he had a good heart. Who keeps the facts from someone with amnesia?”
“He said he knew I’d come back,” she said, staring down at the table. “Because I’d wonder about my child.”
“Of course you would! And rightly so.”
But what kind of mother doesn’t remember her own child?
“He was afraid I’d be killed if I came back. That my abuser would find me again. That’s what he told me.”
“Here’s what I think,” Norma said. “I think he was afraid he’d lose the best thing that ever happened to him. T-Bone took care of T-Bone. And that’s why I’ll be really happy when you jump into an affair with Mr. Tatted Restaurant Manager. It would do you good.”
“We’ll see.” There was a part of Rita that felt the same way, but another part couldn’t stomach the notion. T-Bone and her closest friends in Maine had known about her condition. People here didn’t. An amnesiac was a freak. And if she got into a dating relationship, where you talked about your life and your history, the awful gaps in her self-knowledge would have to come out. Wouldn’t they?
“So tell me what you’ve done to find out the truth, since you’ve been here.”
Rita pulled cheese out of the fridge, crackers from a cupboard. “I’m scoping things out. Getting the vibe of the place.”
Norma raised an eyebrow. “Vibes. What does that mean?”
“I walk around town and there are spots that seem more familiar. Spots that make me feel upset, actually.” She poured more tea for Norma.
“Thanks. What kind of spots are bringing up your memories?”
“The women’s shelter, couple of shops on the main street.”
Norma leaned forward. “That’s interesting. Have you talked to the people at those places? Does anyone remember you?”
Rita shook her head. “Twenty years later, the same people aren’t going to be working there.”
“But they might know who came before them. They could have records. And that shelter...” Norma narrowed her eyes. “Condition you were in when T-Bone found you, it would make sense if you’d turned to them.”
“I know.” Rita took a sip of tea and then shoved it aside, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a beer. She opened it up and took a long pull.
“Or how about the local library?” Norma persisted. “Do they have information from back then? Old newspapers stored digitally? And your Jimmy might know some old-timers who remember those days.”
This was why she didn’t really want Norma here. Norma was sharp, brilliant actually, and persistent. But almost as soon as Rita had arrived in Safe Haven, she’d realized that she didn’t want to think about her past. Didn’t want to know the truth.
And that in itself could be a key, right? Deep inside, she might know something horrible about herself.
Chiefly, that she’d had a child, but that child hadn’t been with her when T-Bone had found her.
And although over the years she’d asked him to give her a specific location for where she was found, he hadn’t done it. Had waved a hand and told her it was out in the country, away from any town.
Only when he was dying had he revealed that he’d found her just outside Safe Haven.
Having Norma here might force her to bring things to a head. Which was good, but not good, when you were this afraid of what you might find.
AFTER THE SCARE of receiving the bears and too-intimate gift from Beau, Anna had to make sure she and her girls were safe.
And she couldn’t involve Sean. The note that had been on top of the lingerie in the heart-shaped box had made that clear: “Remember, you’re mine, all mine.”
She’d unintentionally pricked Beau’s jealousy before, and the results had been ugly. Now that she’d upped the ante by leaving him—no. She couldn’t put Sean at risk by getting him involved in her messed-up life.
The first step was to get the offending package out of the cabin, which she did as soon as she’d gotten back from dropping off the girls at Ma Dixie’s. She’d had a moment’s qualm about throwing away the teddy bears, since the girls had so few toys here. But she couldn’t risk Beau somehow getting to them. What if he’d drugged the bears? Her heart raced, faster and faster. What if he’d put a camera or GPS in them, as she’d once seen done on a television show?
And if none of those rather outlandish things had happened, she still couldn’t risk the girls starting to miss Beau and have warm feelings toward him. She wouldn’t directly bad-mouth him, since he was their father, but she wasn’t going to facilitate any kind of closeness.
She didn’t even take a second look at the lacy lingerie Beau had sent her. The very notion of wearing it made her cringe inside.
There was some brush that needed to be burned. She started the fire, and when it was going strong, she threw the bears, then the lingerie on top and watched it burn.
She’d gotten lulled into a false sense of security having Sean there, but she couldn’t count on him. Not without putting him at risk.
After working all afternoon and then picking up the girls from the library program, she was tempted to stay in town to eat at the little diner, knowing how dark and deserted the Sea Pine Cottages got at night. But she didn’t really have the money for meals out. And she needed to be brave.
She hadn’t realized, until now, that the isolated resort had felt safe because Sean was there for protection. But that wasn’t good. Relying on a man was a mistake.
They’d be fine there, she and the girls, even without Sean around. But even though the box hadn’t come directly from Beau, but from Sheila, it had spooked her. It would be better to be safe and sound inside the cabin before it got dark.
By the time they’d stopped to get gas and groceries, darkness was falling. Her nerves tensed, but then she glanced down the row of cottages and she saw a light on in Sean’s place.
Hope rose within her. The fact that he was still here made her feel a hundred times more safe.
It also made her want to talk to him, be near him. He’d kissed her so tenderly, so sweetly and with such promise. She’d never felt so cherished.
As she helped the girls bathe and get into their pajamas, she dithered about whether or not to text him. She’d insisted that he leave because she didn’t want to put him at risk from Beau’s jealousy. But how likely was it that Beau would find them here? And how likely was it that he could somehow hurt Sean—giant, competent, muscular Sean?
Be a grown-up. You decided to back off from him.
But what if I made a mistake?
Before she could lose heart, she sent a note:
Could you come over for a few? Need to talk.
Almost immediately she got a text back:
I’m in Columbia. Something wrong?
Fear clamped her insides. If it wasn’t Sean in his place, then who was it? She was pretty sure she’d seen a light go off and another go on.
She searched around and found her pepper spray—how lax she’d gotten, that she didn’t have it handy—and shoved it in her pocket. Made sure the doors were locked, the windows, too.
Then she texted him back:
There’s someone in your cabin.
I asked Tony to stay.
Oh. Relief coursed through her, to learn that it wasn’t some stranger or intruder inhabiting Sean’s cabin.
Know you don’t like him, but he’s reliable. Texting his contact information in case you need something.
A few seconds later the shared contact came in.
Got it. Thanks.
She clicked her phone off.
Her emotions were in turmoil. She was grateful that Sean had cared enough to plant a bodyguard when he was gone, even if that bodyguard was Tony. But there was no warmth in his texts, no emotion.
She sighed. It seemed like he’d taken her coolness to heart, when in fact it had been manufactured out of worry about him. But maybe he’d been relieved by her distance. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to stay connected.
All her old feelings of not being enough, of being in the way, of no good man wanting her, came back to her, making her heart ache in a familiar, hollow way.
She ignored it and read to the girls, tucked them into bed and kissed them good-night, and as always, being around them made her priorities crystal clear.
Her own longings notwithstanding, she couldn’t focus on Sean. She had to figure out some ways to make herself and the girls safer at home, whether home was this cabin or somewhere else down the road.
First step: she contacted her friend Sheila, again, to ask about the package. This time, she got a sheepish message back. Yes, Beau had approached her about sending gifts to them. She hadn’t seen the harm. He didn’t have the address, no way—she hadn’t given it to him.
But he really was sorry about their last fight, and he missed them all terribly.
Sheila, Sheila, Sheila.
Anna reiterated that Sheila wasn’t, under any circumstances, to reveal Anna’s location. But when she clicked away from the message she was still worried.
Beau was obviously getting to Sheila. Gaining her sympathy, and he was good at that—he had his charming side.
And Sheila had weaknesses: she liked drinking and partying and handsome men. Beau could appeal to those tastes for his own ends.
So she had to stay ready to move at any time. And she had to rely on herself. Just like always.
She used her phone to search online, and once she’d scrolled past all the ads for home security alarm systems, she got into list after list of safety measures you could take on your own. Most of them were for people who owned their own homes: install lights and motion sensors, remove outdoor hidden keys, hide objects attractive to thieves. Things she couldn’t do.
But she could install locks or bars on the windows here. And maybe, she could get a dog. Not a purebred puppy, of course—she couldn’t afford that—but a rescue who needed a home.
The thought of that filled her with hope. She’d always liked dogs, had befriended neighborhood ones and covertly fed strays. Beau had refused her request to get a dog, but she knew his secret reason: he was afraid of them.
She called Miss Vi and then Ma Dixie, figuring they’d know how she could get a dog on the cheap. Sure enough, both had some good leads. And then, after checking the doors and windows one more time and fielding a text from Tony, checking on her, she climbed into bed.
And lay there hoping against hope that her fears were wrong, that Beau was getting over her, and that they’d be able to stay in Safe Haven.
SEAN’S WORK KEPT him away the entire week, but by Saturday morning, he’d settled back into his cabin. He needed to double down on the renovations. The owner had toured the place last weekend and gotten excited: maybe they could have a grand opening later this summer, get some business for fall.
Which meant he had to hustle. But the good news was, it was the weekend. Anna wouldn’t be here working with him.
He’d checked in with Tony and learned that Anna and the girls were fine. No strange visitors, no graffiti or other threatening messages, at least not that Tony could see. They all seemed fine, happy.
It was unseasonably hot, and before long he’d stripped off his shirt and was taking satisfaction in digging out a row of heavy-rooted shrubs.
He’d dodged a bullet with Anna. He’d been so close to getting involved. Her ex’s package had arrived at just the right moment to remind Sean of lessons he’d learned in the past.
He’d seen his mother return to his father, time after time. He couldn’t bear to see Anna do the same, putting herself and the twins at risk.
He was on the last shrub when he heard it: the high, happy laughter of the twins.
He’d hoped to avoid them, still planned to, but he couldn’t resist walking over to where he could get a clear sight line to the beach where the sound had come from.
The girls were there, playing happily in the shallow water, digging with buckets and dancing with the surf, dressed in matching red swimsuits.
And Anna was in her swimsuit, too: a black bikini. Modest by some standards, but as she laughed down at one of the twins, and then lifted her high in the air, Sean swallowed hard.
He’d sort of known she had a gorgeous body under the baggy clothes she wore. He just hadn’t known how gorgeous. He dropped his shovel and walked a few steps closer, drawn like a magnet.
Any husband would be an idiot to let a woman like Anna go. No wonder her jerk of an ex had seen sense and decided to woo her back by sending gifts.
He forced himself to turn away from the sunshine and beauty and cuteness before him and go back to his manual labor. Got into it harder, working up a sweat. He felt good ripping things out of the earth, using his muscles.
It kept his mind away from the question Ma Dixie had asked him earlier today: If you’re not going to let love into your life again, what exactly do you have to look forward to?
The truth was, right now, not much. But everyone was entitled to a down stretch. Normally he looked forward to playing poker with his buddies, or, now that he was back in town, having a beer at the Pig with old friends, or breakfast at the café with Liam and Cash. Normally, he enjoyed running his business and felt satisfied turning plain wood into buildings, homes for people, new decks and porches. Taking things that were old and ugly and making them nice again, whether in Knoxville or here in Safe Haven.
An earsplitting scream pierced the dense, humid air and he dropped his shovel and sprinted toward the ocean, toward the sound. Had her ex gotten to them, done something awful?
When he saw the three females alone and looking unharmed, his heart rate settled, but still, he jogged toward them. Anna was holding Hope on her lap as she sobbed, while Hayley stood pointing at something on the beach and screaming.
Anna said something sharp to Hayley and she stopped screaming—thank heavens—lapsing down instead into a sobbing heap.
“What happened?” he asked when he got there.
Anna jolted, her arms tightening around Hope, and looked up at him. She drew in a breath, her shoulders relaxing a little.
“She stepped on a jellyfish and it stung her,” Anna explained, examining Hope’s foot. “I don’t know what to do about it, and I left my phone in the cabin, so I can’t google it. Do you know?”
He knelt, examined the sting and nodded. “We got stung all the time, as kids. Most of the jellyfish around here aren’t dangerous. But it hurts, doesn’t it, honey?” He ruffled Hope’s hair.
Hope looked up at him, teary eyed.
“I’ll pull the stingers out,” he offered.
“No!” Hope tucked her feet under her, which must have jiggled the stingers, because she cried harder. “Mommy do it.”
Sean glanced at Anna. “Better if I do, because there’s a trick to getting them out without getting stabbed yourself.” He smiled at Hope. “Did you ever see a movie that had a magician in it?”
She nodded, tears rolling down her rosy cheeks, lower lip sticking out.
“And did you know it’s really important to believe in the magic?”
She narrowed her eyes, then nodded once.
“Well,” he said, calling up a trick from elementary school days. “I have a little magic, and it’s because I have eleven fingers. Want to see?”
Hope frowned, forgetting to cry. “You have ten fingers. Everybody does.”
“Not me.” He counted, using his forefinger: “One, two, three, four, five—” he switched to the other hand “—six, seven, eight, nine, ten. That’s funny.” He twisted his features into a puzzled frown. “Let me try again. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six... Okay, six on this hand.” He switched to the other. “Five, four, three, two, one. Five on this hand. Six and five is eleven.”
Hope’s forehead furrowed as she studied his hands and tried to puzzle out what he was saying.
“That extra finger means I can make things not hurt.” He glanced at Anna, who was fighting a smile. “Distract her?”
“Yeah.” Anna gently straightened Hope’s leg. “What we’re going to do,” she said, reaching up to include Hayley in the circle, “is to make up a story about a jellyfish. We’ll start it here, and then finish it at home, and you can draw pictures. When we’re done, you can show it at Ma Dixie’s tomorrow so everyone can see what happened.”
“And that we were brave,” Hayley said. “That’s how we should start it—we were brave.” She patted Hope’s hand. “You’re brave.”
“That’s a good idea, and you’re both very brave,” Sean murmured, plucking out stingers. He’d had a ton of practice doing this, having helped his younger brothers many times, and done it to himself, as well.
“I don’t want... Ouch!” Hope cried.
“All done,” he said.
Anna turned toward him, a relieved smile creasing her face. “Really? Already? Thank you so much! What else should I do for it?”
“Nothing better than salt water. Some antibiotic ointment when you get back home, if you have some.”
“Come on, Hope. Let’s go in the water again!” Hayley was done being sympathetic.
Hope’s lower lip stuck out, and then she looked up at Anna as if assessing how much attention she could get by making a big deal of a sting that Sean could guarantee barely hurt anymore.
“Go on,” Anna said. “You’re all better. I’ll walk down with you.”
“Okay,” Hope said, and walked down with her mom holding hands, Hayley several yards in front of them.
Sean just sat there in the sand, watching. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t help checking her out.
She was so pretty. And such a good mom. And, yeah, there was a chance she’d end up back with her husband, but even knowing that, Sean was only human.
He wanted her, not just her body but the whole package, the person she was.
After watching the girls for a few minutes, Anna turned and came back, brushing the hair out of her eyes with a self-conscious gesture. “Thanks for helping Hope,” she said. “I didn’t have a clue what to do. I was scared it was poisonous.” She grinned. “Although, since you have eleven magical fingers...” Her eyes skimmed over him and darkened.
At that point he realized he had no shirt on and that he was slick with sweat. As was Anna.
When their eyes met, heat and desire sparked between them.
Finally she looked away and cleared her throat. “Um, so. Do you think that critter is poisonous?”
He pulled his mind back to the present moment. “Not so much, not around here,” he said. He forced himself to look down the beach, out to sea. “Happens to every kid,” he added. “They’ll watch out for the jellyfish now.”
“I think they’re disgusting,” Anna admitted, wrinkling her nose. “That’s one thing we didn’t have in Montana.”
“Yeah.”
Their conversation went on, but Sean could barely focus and he had the feeling that the same was true for Anna. He kept stealing glances at her, and a couple of times, he caught her looking at him, too.
It even seemed like she was enjoying looking at him, and that tantalized him, in addition to being a little flattering.
And that made him think back to kissing her, practically on this very spot. She’d seemed to enjoy that, too.
“Sean?” Her curious expression made him realize he’d dropped the thread of the conversation.
He’d been thinking with his body, which wasn’t cool. “You know what? I’m going to dip in the ocean, wash off the sand.” He stood quickly and jogged down to the water and right in until he was waist deep.
It was the cold-water jolt he needed. His brain reactivated and with it, his sense of caution.
He’d rinse off, make sure Hope’s foot was okay and then head back to his work and then his cabin. No harm, no foul.
As he walked out of the water, though, Hayley grabbed his hand. Not to be outdone, Hope ran over to his other side and grabbed that hand.
And God help him, he couldn’t bring himself to shake them off. “How’s your foot feel?” he asked Hope.
“My foot?” She looked at him blankly. Best sign possible.
“Your jellyfish foot, silly!” He restrained a laugh. She’d forgotten. Kids were amazing that way, so resilient, so in the moment.
“Oh!” She frowned down at the wrong foot. “It’s fine, I think.”
He nodded gravely. “That’s good. You have a very fast-healing foot.”
Hope beamed and squeezed his hand, and the simple confidence in that gesture made Sean’s breath stutter.
They were approaching Anna, who was watching with eyes wide and shiny. And then he realized that the girls were talking to him as naturally as if they’d been doing it their whole lives.
He’d made it into the inner circle, apparently.
“Guess what?” Hayley tugged at his hand. “We’re getting a dog!”
“Yeah!” Hope dropped his hand to dance around in excited circles. “For ’tection, so a big one.”
“Want to come look at it with us?”
Anna clapped a hand to her forehead. “I am so sorry. I should have checked with you about whether dogs are even allowed here.”
Sean was still processing the for-protection idea. “Tony got permission to bring his dog, when he stayed here a while back,” he said. “Eldora loves ’em. If a dog will make you feel safer, go for it.”
The girls cheered and danced around, giving Sean the chance to move closer to Anna. “Any more packages?” he asked.
She shook her head, tiny wrinkles appearing between her eyebrows.
Hayley sank down in front of him. “Will you come with us to get the dog?”
“Yeah, will you?” Hope added, flopping down beside her twin. Then both girls stared at him with wide eyes, obviously planning to put on the pressure until he gave in.
He glanced over at Anna.
She shrugged, a grin tugging the corner of her mouth, probably because she could see the twins’ tactics were working on him. “You’re welcome to come. We’re going around four this afternoon.”
“Well...” The thought was appealing, but he shouldn’t get any more involved with Anna and the twins.
“You can give us feedback on a good Southern dog, one that’ll be okay here.”
It sounded like she really wanted him to come, and that undid him. And after all, it wasn’t as if he had something else to do on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe he’d even take them to dinner.
Just don’t get too close, he reminded himself.
“We should go back up to the cabins and shower,” Anna said to the girls. Then she glanced over at him. “I should have brought us cover-ups. I was thinking we had the place to ourselves.”
He met her eyes, held them. “Believe me, I’m not upset.”
Her cheeks went pink. “Girls! Come on.”
He scrambled to his feet and followed. “And I’d be glad to come along on your dog shopping trip,” he added.
Even as he scolded himself for being a fool.
THE NEXT SATURDAY, dressed in her waitress uniform, in front of her apartment building, Rita hugged her friend Norma with mixed feelings. “You’ve been a royal pain in the behind this week,” she said, “but I’ll miss you.”
“Same.” Norma hugged her back. “Look out, or I might get sick of that cold Maine weather and move here.”
“I wish you would. I could help you find a place.” Rita put her hands on Norma’s shoulders and studied her. Norma would be so pretty if she’d make half an effort. But Rita knew better than to bring that up.
Around them, the streets were busy with Saturday-morning activity. Up the street, someone who looked like Claire was headed in their direction.
“If you don’t get moving on your own behalf, I will.” Norma glared. “You know what I mean. Take some steps to find out what happened to you.”
The very idea made chilly fingers squeeze Rita’s insides. And the dread was getting worse, not better. “Not your problem.”
“It is my problem.” Norma frowned. “You stood by me when I was sick with cancer, and I’ll stand by you now. Whether you want me to or not.”
“Get on out of here.” Rita forced a laugh and gave Norma a gentle shove. “I gotta get to work.”
Norma closed her car’s trunk and walked over to the driver’s side. “Speaking of your job, you ought to take the plunge with that Jimmy,” she said. “He’s interested. I could see it.”
“I doubt that.” Rita said it automatically, although she knew he was; he’d asked her out. And the notion hyped up her pulse a little bit. “Go on! I’m sick of your advice.”
There was the sound of a gulp and crying behind her, and Rita turned to see Claire hurrying down the sidewalk, tears streaming down her face.
Strange sight, when Claire was usually so upbeat. Rita moved toward the younger woman, one arm extended. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
But Claire didn’t look in Rita’s direction. She practically ran by, headed toward the main street of town.
Rita looked back down the street from which Claire had come, and the likely source of the problem was right there: Brandi. Along with a couple of other women, all thin and blonde, looking after Claire and talking and laughing.
Norma was looking in the same direction. She lifted an eyebrow at Rita. “Mean girls?”
“Uh-huh. Move here, and you can help me get rid of them.”
“I’d like to.” Norma reached out and gave Rita another hug, the smell of cigarette smoke matching her husky voice. “I miss you, girl.”
“Miss you, too. Now, go on. And quit smoking, okay?”
Norma snorted, slid into her car and drove off.
Rita continued the rest of the way to work, soaking in the small-town vibe she was coming to like: a group of old men talking on the sidewalk, two teenagers walking identical little white dogs, an old truck proclaiming the merits of Shrimpy’s Shrimp Company puttering down in the direction of the docks. A soft sea breeze kissed her face.
She could like it here without delving into the past, couldn’t she? There was no need to dig up all kinds of old news and finished business. Lots of people visited Safe Haven, or moved there, drawn by the nearby beaches and the friendliness. She could just be one of those people.
But her own stream of thoughts made shame burn in her. Cowardice, that’s what it was. Fear of what she might discover about herself. What if she found out who her child was and barged into his life, or hers, and disrupted everything? What kind of mother was she, anyway, that she didn’t even remember whether she’d birthed a boy or a girl?
She shook off her thoughts as she reached the café and saw Claire sitting at the counter. That was Rita’s station today, so after she put on her apron and clocked in, she headed over. “Anyone wait on you yet, honey?”
“No, ma’am.” Claire forced a smile.
“What can I get you?”
“Pie à la mode. Pecan.”
“Good choice. Abel puts a little extra magic into his pies. Coffee to go with?”
“Sweet tea, please.”
That sounded like a horrible combination, but there was no accounting for tastes. Rita brought Claire her pie and tea, and then leaned on the counter. “You okay? Saw you headed this way and got the impression you were upset.”
“Nothing sugar won’t cure.” Again the younger woman forced a smile, but Rita could hear the hurt in her voice.
“Sometimes women are the worst,” Rita said as Claire took delicate bites. “I don’t want to pry, but I saw that little clique hanging around in front of the boutique. That kind doesn’t have anything better to do than pick on other women. They ought to be ashamed.”
Claire sighed. “Well, and I ought to lose weight. They’re right about that...”
“Is that what they were on you about?” Rita huffed out a breath. “That’s ridiculous. There’s all kinds of beautiful, and seems to me there’s a man to appreciate every kind.” Her heart ached for the young woman. “I remember when I worried about what I looked like. Chipped teeth and a broken nose, and I felt like everyone who saw me knew the rough way I’d been treated.”
“You?” Claire looked disbelievingly at Rita. “You’re so pretty.” She finished the last bite of pie and shoved the plate away. “I shouldn’t have eaten that. I gotta go to work. No doubt the skinny gals will come in to buy their yogurt and Diet Coke and they’ll have plenty to say.”
“Then go fix yourself up before you leave,” Rita said. “Wash your face. You don’t have to dress to please anyone but yourself, but you do need to wear what you like, and hold your head high. A little makeup wouldn’t hurt, either.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Claire stood and turned toward the ladies’ room, then glanced back at Rita. “Seriously. I’m glad you moved here.”
As Claire walked toward the ladies’ room, Rita came around the edge of the counter and sank down onto a stool. That word—Mom—had hit her like a knife, ripping open her guts.
Someone had called her “Mom” before.
Someone she’d taken care of that way—told how to behave, given advice and a pat on the shoulder.
She’d been a mom before.
She’d known it intellectually, but she’d never felt it until now. Pain cut through her, taking her breath away with its sharpness. What had happened? What had she lost? And who had nurtured her child once she’d gotten her amnesia?
Had she done something awful, to lose custody of her own child?
Shortly after waking up in Maine, she’d learned that she’d given birth. The hospital that had treated her could tell, and later, her gynecologist had confirmed it. But she’d never known if she’d raised the child, never remembered anything about it.
Until now.
And all because a friend had made an offhand joke: Thanks, Mom.
“Taking the afternoon off?” Jimmy’s teasing voice brought Rita out of her reverie.
She slid off the stool, shaking the memories away. “I’m sorry. Just spacing out.”
“You’re allowed.” He stood beside her, close, and she could see every hair on his muscular arm, every bit of ink in his tat, and it made her warm. “We’re not busy. Sit down. What’s giving you that million-miles-away look?”
“Just...the past.” There was no way she could explain her issues to Jimmy. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone, except possibly Norma.
He squeezed her shoulder, quick and somehow personal. “Just don’t hang out there too long. There’s a whole world in the present moment and a whole future ahead of you.”
Good advice, but hard to put into practice, she thought, watching him walk away. He shared an easy laugh with Rip Martin, a next-to-homeless guy who stopped in often for coffee and a hot meal. For free, she’d learned when Jimmy had taken Rip’s check from her and ripped it up, one day when she was waiting counter.
Jimmy was a good man.
She was wiping off the counter when she noticed one of her customers, a younger guy named Sean, walking by with a woman and two cute girls, along with a big black Lab that kept pulling on the leash.
Funny, she’d had the impression Sean was single.
Not so funny: seeing him and his young family made her feel somehow sadder.
She blew out a sigh. She had to find out what had happened to her. Had to take more steps to figure it out, because Norma was right. For her own peace of mind, she needed to know the truth, even if the truth made her completely miserable rather than setting her free.
Hard to know where to start, but the image that kept popping into her mind was Abel’s face, his wise, all-knowing eyes. She couldn’t put off talking to him forever, out of cowardice.
She’d find a time to speak with him, she told herself firmly. Sooner, rather than later. Maybe even today.