Low Country Hero

by Lee Tobin McClain

“Dorks,” Cash said, leaning over Liam’s shoulder to look more closely at the photo. His throat sounded tight, though.

  Their mother wasn’t in the picture, but Sean remembered the day she’d taken it. Back in Alabama, by the river. A happy, carefree day that had sent their father into a rage.

  It wasn’t very often that he remembered they’d had good days, too. That their mom had tried hard to give them a good childhood.

  Liam cleared his throat. “I’ll hold on to this one,” he said.

  Cash pulled out his wallet again, extracted a couple of hundreds. “I can’t help at the shelter, gotta get back to Atlanta and I suck at repairs, anyway. But give ’em a donation to buy what they need, okay?”

  “Thanks, man.” Liam pocketed the money as Cash picked up a couple of the remaining boxes and headed out to the truck.

  “How you gonna get that money to Yasmin?” Sean asked, knowing that Yasmin and Liam had complicated feelings for each other. Their breakup hadn’t been an easy one.

  Liam had located a broom and was sweeping the now-almost-clear floor. “Anonymous drop-off?”

  “Might work.” Sean picked up the box with the mementos and headed outside. Pudge and his son were packing up their instruments, and Anna, at a nod from Sean, guided the sleepy twins into the truck.

  Liam left and then Cash. Sean hugged Ma goodbye, and then headed toward his truck, where Anna and the girls were waiting.

  Halfway there, he realized he still had that box of things from the old days under his arm.

  Bitterness, dark as the black water in the swamp around them, rose up in his chest.

  Being here at Ma’s, bringing Anna and the girls here, made that old longing tug at him again. He clenched his teeth and stiffened his spine against it. A family just wasn’t in the cards for Sean. There was a hole in his heart from when his mother disappeared, and his father’s tainted blood ran through his veins. His brothers understood everything he’d been through, but he couldn’t expect anyone else to understand it. To put up with it.

  The box he was carrying suddenly seemed to weigh five hundred pounds. He didn’t want anything to do with the memories it represented. In fact, he didn’t want this box anywhere near him for a minute more.

  He walked over to Ma’s incinerator box and hurled it in, ignoring the pain that stabbed his heart.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FIVE DAYS LATER, Anna rubbed sweaty hands down the sides of her shorts and took deep breaths to calm the too-fast pace of her heart. If she had to sit in this truck, alone with Sean for a whole hour, waiting for the twins to emerge from the library program for the evening, she’d explode.

  He’d been kind to offer transportation while her car was being repainted; she could hardly complain that he needed to come to town an hour before the twins’ program ended. And Tony, who was growing on her despite his questionable past, had insisted on doing the paint job himself since her insurance coverage was minimal, and she didn’t want to risk alerting Beau to where she was by filing a claim, anyway.

  Ma Dixie, wonderful Ma Dixie, was caring for the girls three days per week. After their first day, Monday, they’d been counting the hours until they could go back. Today, Wednesday, was their second day, and they’d jumped out of Sean’s truck and run inside this morning without a glance behind them.

  And to top it off, Pudge had kindly offered to drive the girls from Ma’s place to the library program, since the timing was right, or so he said; he visited his ninety-something mother at the personal care home in Safe Haven at about that time each day.

  Everyone in Safe Haven was so helpful, Sean chief among them. It was scaring her to death.

  If she dared to let herself and her girls get attached to this town, these people, this strong, protective man beside her, what would happen if—when—it all blew up in their faces?

  “I’m going to take a walk,” she said to Sean. Then that felt rude, so she said, “Want to come?”

  “I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs,” he said to her surprise.

  Oh no...don’t do this to me. Please?

  Between working at the cabins and now driving, they spent most of each day together. And it was both easy and hard. Easy, because they liked the same music and worked at the same quick pace; because they both talked a little, but not a lot, and they shared the same sense of humor.

  Hard, because all those similarities—not to mention how good-looking he was, in a bad boy way—made him way too appealing.

  And now she was taking an evening stroll with him.

  They walked from the library parking lot, through the town, toward the water. She thought again about being dependent on everyone, about how dependency had been her mistake before, with Beau. And speaking of Beau, he was supposedly acting weird back in Montana—because, yes, he’d been spotted there again, thank heavens. Talking to her friend Sheila and to people at his work about how much he missed them and wanted to be with them. It was good he wasn’t on her trail, but the sweet talk didn’t sound like Beau.

  The uncertainty of what was going on dug at her. Maybe Beau had hired someone to scare her with the graffiti on her cabin and car. If so, maybe he’d soon follow up himself, in person.

  If he came after them, then what might happen to all of the nice people offering kind help and making her and the girls feel at home? What if she just had to disrupt it all again, uproot the girls and move on?

  “Slow down,” Sean said from a few paces behind her. “You’re in the South.”

  His rumbly low voice sent tingles up and down her spine. Not scared tingles, good tingles.

  “Sorry,” she said. “My thoughts got ahead of me.”

  “Thinking too much can get you in trouble, especially on a warm Wednesday evening.” He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Let me show you the right pace for a stroll.”

  Up ahead, at the Methodist church, a few people were emerging from the side door.

  “Is that Tony?” she asked, squinting. “He must be pretty religious, going to services in the middle of the week.”

  Sean chuckled. “Not so’s you’d notice,” he said. “But if I’m not mistaken, there’s an AA meeting at that church.”

  “Oooohh.” She drew out the word as a few things she’d noticed came into clearer focus.

  “Yes, he has a problem. And he’s working on it.” He slowed and put out a hand to stop her from walking forward. “Hold up. He’ll like it better if we don’t see him.”

  “Sure.” She looked up at Sean. “You care about him like a brother, but he’s not really your brother, right?”

  “In every way that matters, he is. He helped me through a lot of stuff in my teens. Probably kept me from going off the deep end, getting arrested. Now it’s my turn.”

  She wasn’t sure she trusted Tony, but she admired Sean’s loyalty.

  Minutes later they turned onto the boardwalk that ran on the edge of town, where the bay and the river converged on their way out to sea. The saltwater smell, always in the background in Safe Haven, intensified. A pelican sailed above the water’s surface, then dived down for a fish.

  Small tables with red-checked tablecloths filled a small patio just off the boardwalk, and a few pairs and trios of people sat, talking and eating and sipping drinks. Hanging baskets overflowed with flowers, red and white and pink.

  Anna slowed her pace more, enchanted. “I’d never have believed in any of this, living in Montana,” she said, waving her arm to indicate the whole scene.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “Oh...no. That’s okay.” That would be way too intimate.

  He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he could read her mind, and heat rose to her face. Would he call her on it?

  But he lifted a shoulder in a shrug, and they walked on.

  “Speaking of back in Montana, how did you get involved wi
th your ex?” Sean asked the question but didn’t look at her, instead staring off into the distance, seeming to watch the clouds rolling in.

  Anna blew out a sigh, wondering how much to tell him.

  “I mean, he sounds like a jerk. And you’re a good person.”

  He seemed to mean it, and that warmed her heart. Of course, he didn’t know her well enough to make an assessment, but she still appreciated his vote of confidence. “When I was a teenager, hanging around outside the roller-skating rink, Beau seemed like the most sophisticated guy I’d ever seen. Lots of girls wanted to take a ride on his Harley.”

  “And he chose you?”

  She nodded, remembering her own surprise and pleasure. “He chose me.”

  “What did your parents think of him?”

  A smile quirked the corner of her mouth at the thought of her father. “Dad could barely keep track of himself. That was my biggest issue, when I ended up with Beau—wondering how my dad would get by without me.” A blanket of sadness settled on her heart. For all his shortcomings, for all his neglect, she still loved him. Maybe, once she was more settled, she could get him to visit, try to mend their relationship.

  “Your mom?”

  “She died when I was eight.” She kept her voice matter-of-fact, knowing from experience that most people didn’t like to hear sad things.

  “I’m sorry.” He looked down at her then. “Rough to grow up without a mother.” He paused. “Your husband, or ex, or whatever. Is domestic abuse his only crime?”

  That made her stop and stare at him. “His only... No. No, he’s gotten in trouble for selling stolen cars. And drugs.” Just saying that gave Anna a sense of shame. “I shouldn’t have been involved with him at all, and I knew that almost from the beginning. When I found out I was pregnant, I was even ready to go it on my own, but when the sonogram picked up twins...” She looked out across the water. “It was too much. I needed, we needed, a place to stay and food to eat.”

  “Your dad wouldn’t help you?”

  “By then he’d...” She thought of her father’s bad times, which had started soon after Anna had moved out. She’d realized then that, however ineffectively, he’d tried to hold it together while he had a child to parent. Luckily, he now did janitorial work at the shelter in exchange for a room to live in. “Let’s just say he was never in a position to help us.” She looked out at the water and felt the wind pick up. In the distance was the faint sound of thunder. “Hey, why are we talking about the past? Let’s appreciate the day. I can’t remember the last time I had time to myself.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said, and they walked on down the boardwalk, past the fishing pier to the edge of town.

  A sign with an arrow indicated the location of the shrimp dock. A red-and-white boat sailed toward it, nets gathered in. Sean called a greeting, and the trio of men aboard waved back.

  Beyond the dock, the natural world took over, with dunes and beach grasses and water as far as could be seen.

  Anna felt water on her face and looked up to see that the sky had darkened. She felt another drop, then another.

  “Come on!” Sean tugged at her hand and they ran down the pier’s steps to shelter under it as the skies opened.

  The water had turned gray-green, cloudy with rain. There were a few voices above them, then none; everyone else had hurried inside.

  It was just her and Sean alone under the dock. And maybe it was the lightning that crashed on the edge of the sky that filled the air with electricity, but Anna felt close to him.

  She’d never told anyone about Beau. She had assumed there would be embarrassment and judgment for all the bad choices she’d made. And she did feel embarrassed, talking about it now, but she didn’t sense judgment from Sean. More like anger on her behalf.

  The neglected little girl inside her, the vulnerable young woman who’d fallen for Beau and lived to regret it—they were still a part of her. Now she’d revealed them to Sean. And instead of ignoring or scorning them, Sean treated them with care and respect and sympathy, just as warmly as he treated Hope and Hayley.

  Lightning struck closer, too close, and she shrank back, and then Sean’s arms were around her from behind. “Come on. Back up away from the water.” He tugged her with him, and she walked back, his body warming hers.

  He pulled her closer, sheltering her, and she felt safe, protected, maybe for the first time in her life. It felt so unfamiliar that it scared her.

  With all her responsibilities, the last thing she should be doing was cozying up to Sean under a dock. But she was always doing everything for the kids, had ever since the pregnancy test had shown two little lines instead of one. Right now, just for this moment, she kind of wanted to do something for herself.

  She leaned back into his strength and was rewarded with him tightening his arms around her.

  She tried to relax. Except that his hard chest was not just protective, but exciting, and she really wanted to turn around in his arms, face him, touch him.

  Kiss him.

  The heat inside shook her, shocked her, because it was new. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and then she could feel his breath against her ear.

  Could hear it, getting a little faster. Just like her own breathing.

  Her insides seemed to melt, and she wanted to just give in to the heavy, warm feeling. Right now, she could turn around in his arms, put her own arms around his neck and...

  His arms tightened, and she knew he was sensing what she felt.

  Possibilities sparked in the electrified air around them.

  She ached to be close to him, to let herself go, to press into his arms and rest her head against his chest. To relax into his strong, protective arms.

  But that would be a huge mistake. She struggled free. “The girls will be scared. I’d better get to the library.”

  “Not in the midst of a lightning storm.” He put a hand on her arm. “The folks running the program will keep them safe inside.”

  She shook off his hand. “I’ll meet you by the truck later.”

  “Anna—”

  “Later.” She waved—and ran for her life, or what felt like it.

  * * *

  THAT FRIDAY NIGHT, Rita walked into the Palmetto Pig a few minutes before seven. A glance around told her that her new friend Claire wasn’t here yet, and that the place was a typical small-town dive: lit-up beer signs, a thick, scarred mahogany bar, air heavy with a greasy smell from the onion rings, fried fish and hush puppies that dominated the chalkboard menu.

  She sat on a stool and ordered a draft. When Claire had suggested meeting for a drink, Rita had chosen the town-side bar purposely, wanting to be a part of the local scene, not the upscale tourist sites near the water.

  But when two bearded, camo-clad men sat down on either side of her, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.

  “Y’all is new in town,” one of them said.

  “Look lonely,” added the other in an identical accent.

  They were huge, and younger than she was, forty at the most.

  “Just waiting for my friend,” she said. Where was Claire?

  The two men exchanged glances over her head, seeming to communicate without words, and shifted subtly closer to her.

  Dark fear rose inside of her. She hated looming and physical pushing from men. That seemed normal—most women probably felt the same—but her own visceral reaction of sweating terror had always felt extreme.

  It also seemed like a clue to her past, but one she had never wanted to explore too deeply.

  She drew in a breath, held it and then let it out slowly. “Look, fellas. I just want to enjoy my drink in peace.” Funny, in daylight, working as a waitress, she was known for being able to handle the toughest tableful of drunk jerks.

  As a civilian, in a strange place—that was different.
>
  She looked around, taking in more details of the place: the televisions on either side of the bar, tuned to hockey; the oversize beer mugs hanging on hooks with people’s names on them, all male; the small groups of men talking loudly to each other.

  She was definitely out of place.

  The two guys had slumped into inaction, staring at the television broadcasting a hockey game. They were still sitting too close, but they hadn’t touched her.

  Her purse buzzed, and she pulled out her phone and studied the lock screen. Claire. She had a flat.

  Want me to come help you fix it?

  She’d love the excuse to get away from Mutt and Jeff, here.

  A pause, during which the two guys appeared to get interested in her again.

  Then: Tony just stopped, says he can change it.

  There’s two big dudes with beards and camo kinda bugging me here.

  Do they look alike?

  She took a furtive glance from one to the other.

  Yes. One’s skinnier.

  Mahoney brothers. Ugh. Be there soon.

  There were a few more people in the bar now, talking and partying, but no one she knew. Music was playing, loud enough to conceal anything anyone said.

  “Hey,” the one on her right said, “she’s a MILF.”

  “What’s that?”

  Rita’s insides recoiled, because she knew.

  “Mom I’d like to f—”

  “Boys,” came a deep voice from behind her. “I need to talk to Rita. Why don’t you take off.” It wasn’t said as a question.

  Jimmy. Thank goodness.

  The two men grumbled and looked at Jimmy, then her, probably deciding whether she was worth fighting for.

  They slid off their bar stools. One bumped into Jimmy and one into her.

  “Mind your manners,” Jimmy said, but mildly, like he knew he’d won.

  The two men sneered and left.

  Relief washed over Rita, followed quickly by annoyance at herself. Why did she need a man to rescue her, in a public place? “Thanks,” she said to Jimmy, who meant well and had definitely gotten her out of a sticky situation.