AS RITA TOMLINSON left her apartment that evening, she felt the tiniest prickling of unease in the back of her neck.
There was no reason for it. It was a beautiful day, a low bank of clouds to the west, sun sinking into them, blue skies overhead. The air felt soft, enveloping her in a gentle warmth worlds away from her busy, hardworking life in Maine.
But she knew why she felt strange: Would this be the day that her past bubbled up to find her? And would that be a good thing or a bad one?
Don’t dwell on it. She walked briskly toward a residential section of town. Her workout tights were feeling just that, tight. She did her best to keep her figure as good as it could be at her age, without stressing about it, which meant that exercise was imperative. Anyway, walking was fun, not a chore to her—she’d always loved it for the way it cleared her head.
But the memories she’d hoped to rediscover here were nowhere to be found.
When T-Bone had told her, on his deathbed, that he’d lied about finding her in the middle of nowhere, that he’d actually found her outside of a town called Safe Haven in South Carolina, he was too sick and near gone for her to stay mad at him for long. He’d saved her life all those years ago, and caring for him, forgiving him, as his own life ended had been the right thing to do.
And then, after he’d passed, there’d been the details: selling his truck and the house they’d lived in, getting all the paperwork in order. They made their common-law marriage official toward the end, thanks to the black market ID one of T-Bone’s friends had found for her, so she inherited everything. But there wasn’t much once the bills had been paid off.
She’d had friends in Maine, a life, but she’d had to quit her job to take care of T-Bone. And when the money had gotten low and she’d needed to get back to work, she’d felt a pull toward South Carolina.
It was time to figure out what had happened between her dim inklings of a childhood, a courtship and an abusive marriage in the deep South, and waking up in Maine with a big, gentle trucker who’d taken her into his home and nursed her back to health.
Figuring it out had meant selling off a lot of her things, packing up her car and moving. Here, for now; who knew where she’d end up later.
Now that she was in Safe Haven, she liked the place. Just a couple of days in, she was pleased with the job and the town. It wouldn’t be a bad place to build a future.
Unfortunately, though, there were no glimmerings of her past.
“Hey, girl!”
The friendly greeting surprised her, since she was new in town. But when she turned, she vaguely recognized the young blonde woman with the big smile and wide hips. “Hey, yourself. You work at the grocery, right?”
The younger woman nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Claire. I’ve seen you around and heard you work over at the Southern Comfort.”
“That’s right.”
Claire fell into step beside her. “Sorry. If you’re not from a small town you might not know how in each other’s pockets we live around here. Everybody knows everything.”
“I kinda figured. Where are you headed?”
Claire grinned. “I try to take my evening walk at the same time the men’s rec league plays down at the park. Want to join me?”
“I’ll walk a ways with you, sure. I’m just looking to get some exercise and get to know the town.”
“Great.” Claire was breathing hard. “Man, I’m out of shape. I’ve got to take off some pounds.”
“Noticed my leggings were a little tight, myself. That’s why I pushed myself to get out even though I was on my feet all morning.”
“You and me both.” Claire looked sideways at her, assessing. “You look great, girl. I don’t see an extra ounce on you.”
“The ounces just shift downward when you get to be my age.” Rita chuckled as they crossed the street. “I guess we all want what we don’t have. Look at you, with your hourglass figure and your smooth skin and pretty hair. I had some of that, when I was younger, but I didn’t appreciate it.”
They passed a row of brick buildings housing the Safe Haven Gazette and the Rice-and-Indigo Museum, and Rita was tempted to stop and read a couple of plaques that told about the town. But the walk was for exercise. She settled for asking Claire. “Lots of history here, looks like.”
Claire smiled. “Oh yeah, and there’s plenty of people will bend your ear about it.”
They reached the park and Claire gestured toward its center. “You’re interested in history, check out The Tree. It’s supposed to be anywhere from five hundred to a thousand years old, depending on who you ask.”
Rita studied the enormous trunk surrounded by stone benches that seemed to be the park’s focal point. Its gnarled branches reaching out in every direction, some so low they nearly touched the ground. “Beautiful.”
“Sure is, but there’s some even-finer scenery over this way.” Claire picked up the pace, gesturing toward the basketball court, active with players.
Rita chuffed out a laugh and followed along. Claire was a hoot. She hadn’t expected to make a friend this fast, but she loved it. When they reached the court, she recognized one of the cooks from the diner. There were other men, ranging in age from thirty to gray-haired.
A man came out from behind another, side-arcing a perfect basket, and she actually stopped to watch because it was Jimmy. He was probably the oldest man there but he looked fitter than most.
“I love it when they do shirts and skins,” Claire said fervently beside her, fanning herself as she looked wide-eyed at the players, her enjoyment obvious.
Rita smiled her agreement. Jimmy wore a shirt, but it was a tight white T-shirt that showed his muscles and tattoos. Mercy.
Coincidentally, or maybe not, the men took a water break. Jimmy drank deeply and then jogged over. “Hey, how’s my new employee enjoying the town?”
“I like it.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Lots to look at.”
He grinned. “To my mind, the scenery got better about two days ago.”
“Aw, you’re just saying that.” What was she doing flirting with Jimmy? He was her boss in a job she liked. Not only that, but she was here for a reason: to figure out who she was. And who she was might be a good person or a bad person; she might have things to hide. She wasn’t going to play around with a guy until she knew more about herself and her past. She looked over at Claire. “I’m going to head out, get another half hour in before it rains,” she said.
Jimmy heeded a shout from his friends and turned, gave them a quick “see ya” and jogged back into the game.
“He’s built for an old guy,” Claire volunteered.
Rita had to laugh at that. “Yes, he is. Is he a local, born here? For that matter, are you?”
“Me, yes, I’ve lived my whole life on this little stretch of coast. Jimmy took over the café three or four years ago when his aunt and uncle wanted to retire. Moved here from somewhere north. After a divorce, maybe? Looking for a new start, I guess, like a lot of people around here.”
“I thought this was a tourist town, but it seems like people come here and stay. Right?” As they walked, she was looking around, paying attention with half her mind to whether anything seemed familiar. But so far, nothing.
Claire shrugged. “It’s a mix. Lots of us grew up here, but the beaches bring in tourists and retirees and some of ’em stay.” She glanced sideways at Rita. “What brought you here?”
Rita shrugged. “Needed more sunshine in my golden years.” She wasn’t going to admit to more details. She liked Claire, but the woman was a talker—that was already clear.
Claire sighed. “I’d like to get away, do some traveling. Everyone in town knows me as the plump gal who’s worked at the grocery forever. They think they’ve got me pegged.”
“Why don’t you move? Something keeping you here?”
“My folks.” Claire gestured toward the south. “Their health isn’t great. They couldn’t do too well without me.”
“Then it’s good of you to stay.” Rita felt a qualm about her own family of origin. Had her parents passed on? Did she have siblings? She had a few dim memories of watching television with other kids and of swimming in a pool. That was all she remembered of her childhood.
“Hey, lady!” Claire called out a greeting and stopped to wave at a woman on the steps of a church. “Come on over and meet my new friend.”
Obviously, walking with Claire was going to have a lot of stops and starts, but Rita didn’t mind. She wanted to get to know the town, and that included the people in it. And she was flattered that a young woman like Claire already considered her a friend.
The woman approached, a pretty, copper-skinned woman with beaded braids. She held out her hand. “I’m Yasmin.”
Rita took it, smiling. “Rita Tomlinson. Good to meet you.”
“Yasmin runs the women’s program here,” Claire explained. “Helping women who’ve been battered or abused. This town is kind of known for that, and these days, it’s all on Yasmin’s shoulders.”
“You’re always talking me up bigger than I am. How’s your mama?”
As the two women talked, Rita zoned out of the conversation and paid attention to a couple of scraps of memory floating in her head. This street, this place, seemed more familiar than anywhere else she’d been in Safe Haven.
But along with the surprising familiarity came feelings of fear and distress, vague but so unpleasant that she wrapped her arms around her stomach. Part of her didn’t want to feel this, didn’t want to remember. Deliberately, she focused on the clouds gathering darker overhead, the sun sinking down behind a bank of them to the west. A breeze whipped up, and although she was sweating from their exercise, goose bumps rose on Rita’s arms.
“I know, it’s practically falling down around me,” Yasmin was saying when Rita tuned back in to the conversation. “If we don’t raise some money soon, we may just have to shut down.”
“That would be a shame,” Claire said. “It’d be nice if it could go back to actually being a shelter, you know? So women in trouble could stay here.”
Something deep inside Rita clicked into place.
It had been a shelter. Had she been one of those women in trouble? Had she stayed here?
She looked at Yasmin, opened her mouth to ask if they had old records and then snapped it shut.
It was a story line that would make sense, given that T-Bone had found her beaten senseless on the edge of the highway.
A wisp of pain and heartache rose inside her, but she shook it off. At least for today, her mind veered hard away from the truth. She really didn’t want to remember how she’d gotten that way.
LATE THAT NIGHT, Sean lost the battle with himself and headed over to Anna’s cabin. He’d just do the little fix he’d jerry-rigged for the spray painting on her car, until they could figure out a real solution, and then hustle right back to his own place. A couple of beers and a hockey game would be fine entertainment for a loner.
Except her light was on.
He couldn’t see inside the cabin. She’d closed the shades, which was smart. But if she were jumpy, and he was out here messing with her car, he was likely to get pepper sprayed. Again.
The thought of that first night made him grin a little, now. Although Anna was a sweet, quiet woman, she was fierce when it came to keeping her girls safe.
Beneath the toughness, though, was another layer of vulnerability. She was on her own, doing her best, but she was young and without a lot of resources.
He couldn’t stand to see a woman in trouble. Couldn’t let her suffer alone when he could find a way to help.
After a moment’s consideration, he climbed the steps and tapped on the door. “Hey, Anna,” he called quietly through the slightly open window. “It’s me, Sean.”
After a moment, she unlocked the door and opened it, and he swallowed.
She wore short, frayed cutoffs and a thin T-shirt. No bra, if he wasn’t mistaken.
Which was not his business. He kept his eyes pinned to her face, refusing to let them stray lower. “I, uh, I have a temporary fix for your car.” He held up the car magnets he’d dug out of storage. “It’s not perfect, but it’ll cover up most of the, well, the writing. Until you can get it fixed. Okay if I put ’em on there?”
“Um, sure. Thank you.” She looked blankly at the rectangles. “Bayou Brothers Construction? Is that your company?”
“Was.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Tony and I tried to start a company just out of high school. Things didn’t work out, but we still have some of the promo stuff.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” She looked past him toward the car, worry crossing her face. “I don’t want the girls to see it and start asking what that word means. Or remember that’s what their daddy used to call me,” she added bitterly.
Sean had to work to keep his fists from clenching. He didn’t want to scare her, but the idea that any man would call her that name... He swallowed. “Do you think it’s him who did it?”
“I don’t know. I feel like it must be, since nobody around here even knows me, so why would they do this? But my friend swears he’s still back in Montana.” Her shoulders sagged.
“This friend,” he said. “Did he—or she—help you get away?”
She shook her head. “We weren’t close that way. Somehow, I ended up without a lot of friends back there. But she was a neighbor, and we helped each other out every now and then.”
She didn’t notice him hitting you? Some friend.
“I’m kind of at my wit’s end. I appreciate your kindness.” She glanced back into the cabin, then shut the door behind her. “I’ll come out and help. The girls are sound asleep.”
He didn’t need the help, but it seemed like she needed the company, so he stepped down and moved toward her car to make room for her to follow. “So...you’re pretty sure your ex is behind this? I thought he was working through a lawyer.”
“I imagine he had a falling-out with his lawyer,” she said. “He usually does. And he probably doesn’t have money to pay the guy. So it’s possible he’s gone rogue.” Her recitation held dreary certainty.
He knelt beside her car, handed her one of the car magnets and fitted the other to the door. “There. That’s a part of it. Let me see the other magnet.” He fitted it over the rest of the word.
A few drips of spray paint still showed, but at least the word itself was hidden. “What were you doing with a guy this classless?” he asked before he could think better of it. But it just didn’t make sense. She seemed to have it together, especially considering how young she was.
Her sigh broke into his thoughts. “I was immature,” she said. “Leave it at that. Can I get you something to drink? I have Kool-Aid and water.” She wrinkled her nose and she did look young. Young, and impossibly cute.
“I’m picky about my Kool-Aid. Is it cherry?”
“Of course. Though I could mix up some grape if you’d prefer it.” She arched an eyebrow like she was offering him the finest wine, then spoiled the effect with a giggle.
“Cherry’s fine,” he said. And please don’t get cuter than you already are.
She went inside and came back out a minute later with two plastic cups. “Sorry,” she said, “I’m limited in glassware.”
He saluted her with his cartoon-character mug. “I love Scooby-Doo.” He waved a hand toward the cabin. “You said the girls are sacked out?”
She nodded. “They had fun today. But, Sean, I don’t expect you to entertain them every day like you did today. And honestly... I’m not sure how well it’s going to work for me to have them with me while I work. They’ll do it, they’re used to holding back and behaving, but I want better for them.”
He nodded, inhaling deeply of the warm ocean air. At night, the sound of the waves traveled better, and he could dimly hear the rhythmic sound of the surf. They were in a world of their own.
She was looking out into the trees, and the moon cast a silvery light on her face. As he watched her in profile, an overwhelming urge to protect came over him, along with a familiar ache. His mother had wanted to protect Sean and his brothers; she’d spent their drive from one home to the next talking to him about it. She’d wanted better for her boys.
He guessed, in a way, she’d found it. Except he’d never have gone for it at the expense of her life.
He shook away that memory and focused on Anna. Her short-chopped hair and big eyes, her flawless skin kissed with a few freckles, her lush lips... She took his breath away. But he shouldn’t be focusing on her beauty, not when she needed his help.
She glanced over and caught his eyes on her. He expected her to freak out or criticize, but instead, she met his eyes in a speculative way. Was she thinking the same thing about him that he was thinking about her?
He grabbed for some businesslike thread of conversation. “There are some day cares in town you might check out, if you don’t want to enroll them in kindergarten. But kindergarten would be free.”
She sighed, the breath making her bangs fly up. “I know. And even though the pay you’re offering is more than generous, I can’t afford much. It’s just...” She broke off, picked up a stick and started tracing patterns in the sandy soil.
“What?”
“They haven’t spent much time with other kids. And they’ve had so much change lately, I hate to add a big classroom situation to it.” She looked over at him, her expression vulnerable. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”
He let out a chuckle. “You’re asking the wrong guy. I have zero experience with kids.”
“Really? You did well with them today. I thought maybe you were somebody’s favorite uncle, at least.”
“Nope.” None of his brothers had kids yet, at least not Liam or Cash. He guessed they’d all struggled with relationships, given how they’d grown up. Although both of his younger brothers had sowed more wild oats than he had.
“Well, anyway. Because they don’t talk, I’m afraid they’ll struggle. Get teased.”
“All kids get teased.” Still, he hated to think of that happening to Hope and Hayley.
“Yeah. Believe me, I know. But it’s just...when it’s your own kids, and you haven’t been able to provide them with the life you wanted to...” She crossed her arms and leaned forward on the porch step, kind of hugging herself.
The glimmerings of a possible solution came to him. “Are they able to be away from you? Did they ever stay at a babysitter’s house, say?”
“We had a neighbor back in Montana. An older lady who took care of her grandson. In a pinch, I could leave the twins with her. In fact, they loved going over there because she had a dog, and parakeets, and more toys than we had.”
Perfect. “I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” She looked over at him, her eyes hopeful.
“Yeah.” Then he nearly forgot it, looking at her face. He had the most ridiculous desire to put his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right. To take care of her and help her carry her burdens.
He shook it off. “Look, I’ll follow you to town when you drive the twins to their after-school program tomorrow. We can take your car to the garage, at least get an estimate on fixing the paint job. And later this week... Well. I’ll take you and the girls somewhere that might solve your problem.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You expect me to just trust you?”
Yeah, I was hoping... “I think you’ll have fun. You’ll get a good low country dinner, anyway. And maybe, a babysitter.”
She tilted her head to one side, studying him. Her stormy eyes seemed to ask whether she could take him at his word.
As for him, he couldn’t believe he was offering to do what he’d only ever done with Gabby: taking her home to Ma Dixie.
Ma was special. She’d been his port in the storm of his adolescence, and her bayou home had been the place he and his brothers were able to hang out together and be themselves.
No casual dates and precious few friends ever got invited. He just liked to keep the place private, for family.
Plus, the one woman he’d taken to Ma’s, Gabby, had hated it. Too humble, too down-home, full of fattening food and unsophisticated conversation.
But that was Gabby. He couldn’t imagine Anna having the same snobbish reaction.
As if to prove him right, she smiled and shrugged. “As long as my girls will be safe, and not scared by whatever you have in store...sure, okay.”
“Great. We’re on.” But uneasiness nipped at Sean’s gut.
Bringing Anna home to Ma’s place meant something, in his world. It brought her into his life and made him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t sure he was ready for.