Low Country Hero

by Lee Tobin McClain

  Oh. Her face went hot and her stomach twisted.

  Now that her breathing had quieted down, she heard the rise and fall of a chorus of frogs. An owl hooted from one of the tall trees, and another responded.

  The lonely sounds reminded her of how rural and deserted this place was. Just her and this man and the frogs. And her girls. A tremor started at the base of her back and rose up her spine. “You’re the contractor, and you’re staying here?” she said to distract herself from her fear. “Sounds like the old boys’ network is alive and well in these parts.”

  He made a sound in his throat, draped the towel on the wicker chair and rose to his feet with a dancer’s grace, despite his alarming size. “I’m also the muscle watching over the place. Come on. You’re going to need to get out. I’ll help you carry your stuff to your car.”

  Anna’s thoughts raced, testing excuses and discarding them. My car’s broken down. I’m sick. I’m scared of the dark, can’t drive at night. But the behemoth seemed sharp, and she doubted she could convince him with any standard lie.

  She could leave, pack them up and drive somewhere else, except she didn’t trust any man around her girls, even briefly. Their safety and sense of security was paramount. And they’d had enough trauma this week. Uprooting them again, making them move in the middle of the night—no. “I can’t leave tonight,” she said firmly.

  “What’s your business here, anyway?” he asked. “Are you alone?”

  “Of course,” she lied without a second’s hesitation. “I just need a place to stay for a little while.”

  “There are hotels for that.”

  “Not in my price range. But I’ll definitely look for a cheap place as soon as I get my bearings. Look, just give me a week. Ignore me for a week. You won’t even notice I’m here.” Even as she said it, her heart sank. Antsy five-year-olds were hard to miss.

  “Why should I?” He swiped the towel across his face again, and though his eyes were bloodshot, she still recognized their hooded mistrust.

  “Want me to get you some wet cloths for your eyes?” she asked desperately.

  “Trying to earn points? It won’t work.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And if you’re looking for chivalry, it’s dead.”

  She snorted out a laugh. “Believe me, I’m not looking for that. Just maybe a little—What did you call it? Common kindness.”

  He turned his head, looking out into the moon-dappled darkness, seeming to consider her words. In the distance, she heard the faint sound of waves, pounding. A roselike, sweet fragrance drifted in on the warm breeze, and she summoned up the name from childhood. Oleander flowers. Beautiful, but she seemed to remember the plant was poisonous.

  A faint sound from inside the house made her snap to attention, every muscle tightening. Don’t wake up, don’t wake up, she tried to communicate telepathically to whichever of her girls was stirring.

  The man had heard the sound, too. Either that or he noticed her reaction. “I thought you said you were alone.” His hand went to his pocket and rested there.

  Anna’s stomach tightened and sweat dripped down between her breasts. Of course he was packing. Why wouldn’t he be?

  She stood to make a barrier between him and the door of the house.

  The door opened. “Mommy? There are noises.”

  Anna flew to Hope as the sleepy child stepped out onto the porch, trying to block her view of the man. Trying to block his view, too.

  But Hope, hypervigilant as she’d become lately, had seen, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. She grabbed Anna’s leg with a grip of steel.

  “Go inside and get back in bed with Hayley.” She forced a smile onto her face and pressed her sweating palms against her sides. “Everything’s okay.”

  Hope clung tighter.

  Anna looked at the man. Her heart pounded like a drum, but she kept her face impassive.

  “You said you were alone.” His mouth twisted a little as he looked from her to Hope.

  “Please, mister. Just go away. Leave us be for the night.”

  Hope’s back convulsed and she buried her face against Anna’s hip. The poor kid had thought they were safe, thought they were having a beach vacation away from the miseries of life with their father in Montana. But now here was another big, scary man, ready to force them to run again.

  Or maybe worse.

  “You mentioned Hayley. So you have another child inside?” Something tense and angry flashed over the man’s face.

  Why, oh why, had she let Hayley’s name slip out? She hesitated, then nodded. What was the use of lying now?

  He made a frustrated sound and turned toward the door. “All right. You can stay the night, but that’s all. I want you out of here tomorrow.”

  Hope’s sobs got louder and she tried to muffle them against Anna’s leg.

  Anna drew herself up to her full five foot four and squared her shoulders in an effort to put herself on more of an equal footing, for Hope’s sake if not for her own. She lifted her chin to project a confidence she didn’t possess. “Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Sean stood in the thick bushes by the squatter’s car, watching as the woman and her two girls approached. Unexpected warmth spread behind his breastbone.

  She was gorgeous in a different kind of way. Short, messy brown hair, full lips, big green eyes. Today she wore jeans and long sleeves, but her modest clothes couldn’t conceal her knockout figure.

  The little blondes, identically cute, were chattering excitedly. The woman listened and laughed, paying real attention. A rare quality in a time when so many parents tripped over their kids because they were glued to their cell phones. His own mom had been stressed, she’d had her issues, but she’d done her best to give him, Liam and Cash that kind of full attention, too. At least, when they were small and their father was away. Before she’d disappeared and their family had been blown apart.

  He walked out into view as they reached the car, and the woman exclaimed and stepped back, pulling the girls closer to her sides. “What are you doing here?” she asked. She was trying for aggression, but he could hear the fear underneath.

  Maybe he should clean himself up a little, at least enough so he didn’t terrorize women and children.

  “We planned to talk,” he said, “but besides that, there’s a problem.”

  “I’ve got a bucketload of problems, mister, but what now?”

  He pointed at her tires, two of them flattened.

  She gasped and bent to look. “Who did this?” The little girls looked, too, and then pressed closer to their mom.

  “Just a bunch of construction nails. You happened to park right by the trash pickup.” He felt bad—if he’d been neater, maybe her tires would’ve survived the proximity to the trash—but then again, she’d pulled entirely off the road. She was the one trespassing.

  Sweat beaded on the woman’s forehead and she couldn’t conceal the fact that she was shaking. Obviously, she didn’t believe the pierced tires were an accident.

  He swallowed the knot that rose in his throat. What had she been dealing with, and what dangers did she face now, to make her so suspicious? “Hey,” he said, walking closer to pat her shoulder awkwardly, “are you okay?”

  She cringed, so he stepped away and let her get her bearings. She leaned against the car, closed her eyes and drew in deep breaths.

  After a minute, she opened her eyes and bent to look at the tires again. “I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

  Which was exactly what she’d wanted last night. Suspicion nudged at him. Had she punctured the tires herself, to get insurance money or an excuse to stay here?

  But no; her fear had been real.

  The little blondes came out from behind her, foreheads wrinkled, tears staining both pairs of cheeks. She cuddled them to her
sides and squatted down. “It’s okay. It’s no big deal. We’re fine.”

  One of the girls pointed at the tires and shook her head, her lower lip jutting out.

  “Okay, not fine exactly, but we’re safe.” She looked up at Sean. “We were planning to go to the grocery.”

  “Settling in?”

  She glared at him. “Feeding my children.”

  When she put it like that, he felt like a heel. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride into town. I was headed there myself.” He indicated his truck, pulled off to the outside of the gates he’d opened.

  “Oh, I don’t think...”

  Her two girls looked up at her, with identical puppy dog eyes. Man, were they cute.

  And it made all the sense in the world that she didn’t want them getting in a truck with a stranger. “I can show you my military ID,” he offered. “Or my badge from my last construction site. Or give you my mom’s phone number.” Not his real mom’s, Ma Dixie’s, but close enough.

  She studied him, and then looked at his truck.

  He found himself hoping she’d say yes, mostly for the sake of those little girls. Their innocent eyes made him want to be the kind of guy who reached out to others and helped them.

  She swallowed hard. “We do need groceries. All right. And thank you.”

  He let out the breath he’d been holding. “No problem. Maybe we’ll get a chance to have our little talk.” He held out a hand. “I’m Sean O’Dwyer, by the way.”

  She swallowed, the muscles working in her throat. “Anna George,” she said, and then bit her lip, as if she wished she hadn’t given him her name. “And these are my daughters, Hayley and Hope.”

  She got booster seats out of the trunk of her car and put them in the narrow back seat of his truck, then settled the twins there. “It’s a truck like Grandpa used to have, remember?”

  One of the twins nodded vigorously. The other looked sad.

  Where was their grandpa now that he wasn’t helping them out? Was that another loss they’d faced?

  They rode a couple of miles in silence, passing the occasional small house and, as they got closer to town, the little AME Church and Mr. Nathan’s Carryout and a roadside stand featuring fresh shrimp and boiled peanuts and vine-ripe tomatoes. He was debating what to pick up for his own dinner, later, when Anna pointed at the picture hanging from his key chain. “Who’s that?”

  He glanced down at the faded photo. He’d grabbed it out of his wallet and stuck it in the holder when he’d removed Gabby’s picture, just to remind himself of what was important and who you could trust.

  “Me and my brothers.” He didn’t expand on it.

  She nodded and stayed quiet until they reached Safe Haven’s small downtown, bustling on a Saturday morning.

  “It’s a cute place,” she said, and turned back to face the girls. “Didn’t I tell you we were coming to a real nice town?”

  No answer from the back seat. He wondered if the girls were hearing impaired. But no, when he glanced in the mirror he saw they both looked animated. And then he remembered that the one had come out last night because she’d heard a noise.

  “It’s quaint,” she added, looking back at him. “Different from...where we’re from.”

  “Montana?” he asked, and he felt her tense beside him. “Your plates.”

  “Oh of course. Yes.”

  Since she was so obviously nervous, he looked away to give her space and gazed around town. Was Safe Haven cute and quaint? Well, sure, there were benches and flowers in window boxes in front of little brick shops. Jarvon Davis tapped his horn and waved, his pickup laden down with produce for the Saturday-morning farmers’ market. Laraba Brown made her slow way across the street, and Sean lifted a hand in response to her wide smile.

  Maybe it was quaint to others—and a safe haven, its name arising out of the town’s history—but to him it was just home. Home, no matter where else he traveled or lived. Home, where the community had embraced him and his brothers with few questions asked. Home, for better or worse.

  He pulled up in front of the corner market. “I’ll meet you here in half an hour. Is that enough time?”

  “It is.” She met his eyes directly and smiled. “Thank you for being so kind.”

  A cold place in his heart warmed a little, just from the sunshine of that smile. “Sure. No problem.”

  She jumped down and helped the girls out of the back. “We appreciate your help. Right, girls?”

  They both nodded and the bolder one gave him a smile that lit up her face, the same smile as her mother’s.

  Sean’s heart pretty much melted.

  He watched the trio walk into the store, the girls bouncing with excitement. They’d obviously been through a lot, but they were resilient. Able to play and have fun even in the worst of circumstances. He glanced down at the photo of him and his brothers. They’d done the same, as kids.

  Things were a lot more complicated now. He drove the several blocks to his brother’s apartment building. Tony wasn’t his biological brother, but one of Ma Dixie’s many foster kids. He and Tony had been inseparable throughout most of their teen years, and that was why Sean wanted to help him in his current trouble.

  He trotted up the stairs and knocked on the door of the ivy-clad but modest second-floor apartment. No answer.

  The next apartment over, a neighbor came out onto the shared wrought-iron balcony, a potbellied man Sean knew slightly. “He ain’t around, but he sure enough was last night.”

  A cold hand squeezed Sean’s heart. “Trouble?”

  “Nah. Just drinkin’ and partyin’ noise, but it don’t bother me.” He pointed at his behind-the-ear hearing aid. “I just take these things out and go to sleep.”

  That was a relief. With Tony, you never knew. “Thanks, man. I’ll catch him later.”

  He still had some time after parking near the market, so he strolled to the hardware store to pick up some mulch and a drill bit. After putting his purchases in his truck, he walked toward the market.

  From the bakery’s open door, a buttery cinnamon smell wafted out. He bet Anna’s twins would love some of Jean Carol’s cinnamon rolls.

  Don’t do it. He didn’t need to be getting close to this little family, didn’t need to make those little girls think he’d be a positive force in their lives. Best not to raise any hopes or confuse things.

  He forced himself to walk right on past.

  In the store, he grabbed a bunch of bananas and a carton of milk and got in line. Up ahead, Anna and the twins were checking out. He noticed the generic cereal and the sale sticker on the meat.

  He should have bought the cinnamon rolls for the girls.

  “Is that you, Sean O’Dwyer?”

  The melodious voice behind him took him straight back to the past. “Hey, Miss Vi!” He turned and gave the dark-skinned, gray-haired woman a hug. “What’ve you been doing? Still running the library?”

  “I’ll be there until they push me out the door. Which you would know, if you ever stopped in to check out a book.”

  “I should, now that I’m back in town.” Sean read a lot, but these days, he mostly bought books for his e-reader. It suited him to travel light.

  He really ought to stop into the library, though, just to see Miss Vi. She’d been a rock in the lives of Sean and his brothers after they’d lost their mom. She’d encouraged and scolded and spoken up for them, even, he suspected, had played a role in getting each of them the foster placement that would work best.

  A loud voice turned their attention to the front of the line. The cashier, big and blonde, had stepped out from behind the cash register to set a bag of groceries in Anna’s cart. “And what are your names?” she asked the twins.

  The twins pushed into Anna’s side, not speaking.

  “Are you shy? Huh?”

  The bolde
r of the twins put a hand on her hip and shook her head, frowning.

  Anna offered an apologetic smile to the cashier. “They aren’t big talkers.”

  “Aw, that’s not going to get y’all anywhere! Come on, ladies. Tell Miss Claire your names.”

  Both twins clamped their jaws shut and backed up, glancing at each other.

  “Do you know that family?” Miss Violet asked behind him, her voice quiet.

  “Not well. I think they’re just passing through.”

  “I’ve seen that behavior before. She may need some help with it.” Miss Violet plunked her purchases on the belt as Anna and the girls paused in front of the cash register to rearrange their cartful of grocery bags. “I’ll pay for these later, Claire,” Miss Vi said. Then she walked purposefully over to the small family.

  Sean paid for his own items, one ear cocked toward the conversation. “It’s a nice program and there’s no obligation,” Miss Vi was saying in her quiet-but-insistent voice, the one that had kept Sean and his brothers sitting still and reading in the library years ago.

  “That’s very kind, but we won’t be able to,” Anna said.

  Identical sulky expressions appeared on the twins’ faces.

  “Books are very important to little girls, and our after-school program is free.” Miss Vi smiled at Anna. “If you’re in town Monday, stop by for our Spring Party.”

  Anna’s forehead wrinkled and she worried her lower lip as she looked at the girls.

  “There’s entertainment for the kids,” Miss Vi went on, “and prizes, and the best pecan pie bars you ever tasted.”

  The twins tugged on Anna’s arms. No way was she going to withstand those cute, pleading expressions.

  Anna opened her mouth, and Sean’s heart lifted. Good. She was going to do something fun with her girls.

  But then a cloud crossed Anna’s face, and she shook her head. “I know books are important,” she said. “But we probably won’t be here long enough to stop by for a visit.”

  She pushed up her sleeves and put a hand on the cart, obviously trying to speed their departure.