When He Found Me (Road to Refuge Book 1)

by Victoria Bylin

  “They do speak up.”

  “Why do you like them?”

  Lyn took a deep breath, savoring it. “Seagulls don’t worry about what to eat or how they look. They take life a day at a time. They’re survivors.”

  A breeze lifted a strand of Daisy’s hair. She hooked it behind her ear, aware of the dryness and the false color. Between her red hair and the weight loss, she looked nothing like the girl in the detective’s picture, though that girl lived inside her. Maybe she, too, was a survivor.

  She kept her eyes on the birds. “Thanks again for not talking to that detective.”

  “It’s not my place. For all I know, your brother sexually abused you.”

  “No!” Daisy shook her head hard. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Shane calls himself a Christian. He thinks he’s perfect and everyone else is dirt, especially me.”

  Lyn winced. “Ouch.”

  “I embarrass him. He told me to get out of his life until I cleaned up my act.”

  “Did he use those words?”

  “No, but that’s what he meant.” He had used his faith like a sword and skewered her with it. The pressure worsened after he signed with the Cougars. He called a lot, claiming to be worried about her, but Daisy knew the truth. He was worried about his good-boy reputation, not her. She considered telling Lyn about his baseball career but decided against it. If Lyn was like most people, she’d be impressed and Daisy would feel smaller than she did now—as small as she felt when the social worker took her away from the Harpers.

  She smelled the damp wood and felt the push of a wave against the pilings below her. She wanted gin more than ever, but she couldn’t drink and stay at Maggie’s House. She’d get caught, and she didn’t want to dishonor Lyn.

  But neither could she stand the feelings bubbling under her skin. She wanted them to stop now. If it meant leaving Maggie’s House, so be it. She would be straight with Lyn, then pack her things and go back to Eric.

  She turned to Lyn, her chin raised and her fingers knotted on the railing. “I want to be honest with you.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Daisy tried to speak, but before she found the words, something white and gooey fell from the sky and plopped in Lyn’s perfectly styled hair. Gasping, Daisy couldn’t believe her eyes. “A bird just pooped on you!”

  Lyn let out a screech. Twelve seagulls took flight, beating the air into a roar of feathers and wings. She tried to shake the bird poop out of her hair, but it stuck like egg yolk. Neither woman had brought her purse. They didn’t have tissues or gum wrappers or even an old receipt. All they had was the twenty-dollar bill in Daisy’s pocket. She yanked it free and wiped the mess out of Lyn’s hair.

  “I got most of it,” she said.

  “Oh my goodness,” Lyn sputtered. “That bird nailed me!”

  A wicked smile tugged on Daisy’s mouth. It wouldn’t be nice to laugh. She tried to hold it in, but then she locked eyes with Lyn.

  Lyn’s eyes twinkled, then a giggle bubbled out of her throat. The next giggle burst past Daisy’s sealed lips. With the seagulls squawking an off-key chorus, the women dissolved into laughter, bumping shoulders and falling into each other, doubling over until they couldn’t breathe. The giggles went on and on, rolling like the waves headed to shore, the first signs of an incoming tide.

  Lyn pointed at the twenty-dollar bill pinched between Daisy’s fingers and covered with slime. “What do you think?” she said between gasps of laughter. “Should we wash it off?”

  Daisy saw more than money. She saw a pint of gin, but she also saw Lyn watching her with the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. Daisy didn’t need the alcohol, at least not this minute. The twenty dollars had bought her something else, something that felt real even though she couldn’t see it or define it with words.

  “It’s filthy,” she said to Lyn. “Let’s toss it.”

  Together they leaned over the railing and released the bill into the breeze. It drifted downward in slow arcs, landed on a swell, and floated under the pier and out of sight. Lyn hugged her, and Daisy squeezed her back. She wouldn’t be leaving Maggie’s House after all. As for gin, at least for today, she could live without it.

  Chapter 10

  Shane’s first week as “Mr. Riley” ended with Olivia Townsend calling him an idiot. She didn’t use that word, but her opinion echoed in her tone. Steering his SUV out of the faculty parking lot, he chastised himself for making a rookie mistake. After track practice, he’d given the key to the equipment shed to a boy he shouldn’t have trusted. Somehow Logan Petersen ended up locked in the shed with the traffic cones.

  A custodian had heard Logan’s cries for help. By the time Shane arrived, the man had radioed for Mrs. Townsend, who sent the custodian for bolt cutters. The incident ended with Logan’s liberation and Shane taking responsibility.

  Mrs. Townsend showed him no mercy. “These boys don’t need a prima donna athlete, Mr. Riley. They need supervision. Do you understand me?”

  Shane had already owned up to the mistake. The prima donna remark was unnecessary and even mean-spirited. No wonder MJ avoided her mother. Yet the moment had been sadly enlightening. When it came to Daisy, Shane had acted a lot like Olivia Townsend.

  Grimacing, he turned down MJ’s street, keenly aware of the mental heaviness that had started a week ago in the park. He liked MJ a lot, but her faith stood in his way. As a brand-new Christian, she was a babe in the woods, which made him the Big Bad Wolf, a role he didn’t relish.

  He didn’t need a woman who prayed and fed him muffins. He needed a woman with fewer complications—a woman like Kim. Yesterday she had worked out at the gym he used, and they chatted. After Shane’s miserable day, she offered the kind of distraction he wanted. No ties. No promises. Just two adults having a good time. He decided to call her when he got home.

  As he approached MJ’s driveway, he saw a mountain of trash bags on the curb. Judging by the size, she had made progress in the attic. He climbed out of the Tahoe and saw Cody near the stairs to his apartment, probably hoping for a game of catch. Shane enjoyed the boy’s company, but right now he wanted to call Kim.

  Smiling big, Cody pointed to a rubber T-ball stand. “Look what my mom got us.”

  “Very nice.” Shane gave an appreciative whistle.

  “She got me a bat, too.” Cody lifted a kid-sized Louisville Slugger made of red aluminum. “Want to see it?”

  Kim could wait a few minutes. Not only did Shane like Cody, he wanted to get his hands on the bat. It was a toothpick compared to his own, but wrapping his fingers around the black tape would feel good.

  Cody lugged the bat and T-stand to the middle of the driveway, then fetched a baseball off the back porch. Shane would have preferred a wiffle ball this close to the house, but the chances of Cody making real contact were slim to none.

  Shane judged Cody’s height, twisted the rubber to make the stand a few inches lower, then held out his hand. “Let’s see the bat.”

  Cody offered it to him as if it were sacred. Shane took a few easy swings, describing the mechanics to Cody, who concentrated on every motion.

  “Your turn.” Shane handed him the bat.

  Awkward and shy, Cody twisted himself into a pretzel. Hiding a grin, Shane stood behind him, covered the boy’s hands with his bigger ones, and walked him through the motions. There was no doubt about it. Shane wanted to be a father. In some small way, it would fill the gap left by the man he would never know.

  When Cody found his rhythm, Shane stepped back and put the ball on the T. “Go ahead. Swing for the fences.”

  Cody hauled back and swung hard. The ball popped high in the air and arced back—straight at an upstairs window.

  Glass exploded all over MJ’s bedroom carpet. With her heart pounding, she watched a baseball roll to a stop at her bare toes. Groaning, she grabbed two handfuls of her hair and pulled. She had specifically told Cody to save the bat and T-stand for t
he park. The equipment had been on sale at Walmart, seventy percent off, but still a splurge on her limited budget. Now she had a broken window to repair.

  Her son raced into her bedroom, saw the broken glass, and stopped short.

  “Cody Townsend.” She plopped her hands on her hips. “What did I tell you about the bat and ball?”

  “You told me to wait for the park.” His bottom lip quivered.

  MJ took a step and winced. Balancing on one foot, she wiped a speck of glass off her big toe.

  Cody started to cry. She wanted to cry too, but she had to get the vacuum. Then she had to research window repair online and do battle at Home Depot. She hated hardware stores. They were full of tools she didn’t understand and things she couldn’t afford.

  She gave her son another hard look. “We’re going to clean up the glass, then you’ll tell me why you disobeyed.”

  Footsteps thudded in the stairwell, then in the hall until Shane arrived with the vacuum. So that was why Cody had disobeyed her. The boy found male attention irresistible, and Shane had unwittingly obliged his disobedience.

  Even worse, he had invaded her privacy. She didn’t want him to see her bed with its white duvet and seven pillows, some of them heart-shaped and edged with lace, some for clutching to her middle while she slept. She had bought the bedding after the second LEEP, when she needed to feel feminine again. The fluffy covers still cheered her up. So did the candles scattered throughout the room. She loved the mix of scents—vanilla and rose—and sometimes she lit the wicks to chase away a bad day.

  Heaving a sigh, she looked from the candles to the window and finally at Shane. Instead of folding laundry, now she had to contend with a handsome man looking charmingly chagrined in her bedroom.

  “Sorry.” He looked her full in the eye. “I showed Cody how to swing a bat. He’s stronger than he looks.”

  “The ball went backward,” the boy complained.

  MJ focused on her son, not the man with his hand now on Cody’s shoulder, as she repeated herself. “What did I tell you?”

  “To wait until the park.”

  “Now you know why.”

  He looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Shane added. “We’ll clean up, then I’ll take Cody to the hardware store. We’ll replace the glass right now.”

  She appreciated Shane’s offer, but it was Friday. He probably had a date. MJ was having lunch with her mom tomorrow, but she could get up early and fix the window before they left. “If you have plans, it can wait until the morning.”

  He hesitated. “Now’s fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  When he dragged splayed fingers through his hair, she saw weariness. “Bad day?”

  He grimaced. “It was worse for a kid named Logan. He got locked in the equipment shed.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Bad judgment on my part. The custodian called your mother and the rest was—” He shook his head, speechless.

  “Humiliating.” Knowing how her mother played drill sergeant to new teachers, she wondered about the rest of his week. She suspected he’d been avoiding her since the park, but now he seemed to need a friend. As badly as she needed to guard her own heart, she couldn’t turn her back on him. After all, he’d been teaching Cody how to swing a bat, something MJ couldn’t do very well.

  The frustration over the broken window receded, and she offered a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  He hesitated.

  “You don’t have to. I just thought—”

  “I’d like that.” He stretched the words into a drawl. “I’d like it a lot.”

  Their eyes locked for what felt like forever, then he lifted one brow, leaving her to wonder if—no. Dating was off her radar. But her heart softened like wax in the hot sun.

  Inhaling sharply, she smelled the rose, vanilla, and bleach from the laundry. She thought of the lacy pink bra drying in the bathroom, the one she wore when she needed to feel pretty, even desirable. She had to get out of the bedroom now and away from Shane. Unless she told him about the HPV, a dating relationship was off the table.

  He indicated the window. “Cody and I will get started. We need paper and a pencil to make a pattern for the new glass.”

  “I’ll get it for you.”

  He glanced at her feet. “You need shoes.”

  “It’s all right.”

  She walked gingerly to the door and eased by him, avoiding his gaze but failing miserably to ignore traces of Dolce & Gabbana. She went into Cody’s room, fetched the drawing tools, and returned to her bedroom. The vacuum roared to life and she paused in the doorway, watching as Shane gave Cody the handle and pointed to the sparkles on the carpet. When the boy grinned, Shane playfully punched his arm. He was a good man, someone who loved kids and—

  Stop it. She set the paper and pencil on the dresser, escaped to the kitchen, and grabbed an onion to chop for the meatloaf. Surely meatloaf would make her forget the scene upstairs. But then her cell phone rang with circus music, and she pictured Cody looking up to Shane with his heart in his eyes.

  She lifted the phone, saw Lyn’s caller ID, and answered. “Perfect timing. I can tell you about my wretched day.”

  Lyn gave a light laugh. “What happened?”

  “Cody hit a baseball through my bedroom window. Shane’s fixing it now.”

  “I like this guy.”

  So do I. “He’s all right.”

  Lyn hummed into the phone. “You haven’t said much about him.”

  MJ didn’t like to talk about men, not even with her best friend. Concerning Shane, Lyn knew about the shoes and the rental agreement but not much else. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “What did he do before Wyoming?”

  “He played third base for the Cougars, but he hurt his knee.”

  “The Cougars?”

  MJ’s brow furrowed. “You follow baseball?”

  “I’m from Chicago, remember? Go Cubs. Now tell me about Shane.”

  “I already did.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Like what?”

  “What does he look like?”

  MJ groaned. “You’re impossible.”

  “Just curious.” Lyn’s voice held a smile. “And you just answered the question. He’s good-looking and you’re interested.”

  “All right, yes. But you know the situation.”

  “I do. But MJ?”

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “And I’ll say it until you believe it.” Lyn took a breath. “We all have experiences we regret. Sometimes we bring the problem on ourselves, and other times the trouble finds us. Either way, this is why we need a Savior. Jesus wiped the slate clean for you, me, and all humanity, so stop punishing yourself. You’re not the first woman to deal with HPV, and sadly you won’t be the last. You know the stats.”

  Yes, she did. It affected eighty percent of the female population and usually went away on its own. Not everyone got cancer, and not everyone had to be treated. MJ had been stunningly unlucky. She had contracted a high-risk strain, and established treatments had failed to kill it.

  For the millionth time, she sighed. “The stats don’t mean a thing when it’s your own body. I don’t want a hysterectomy.”

  “I’m praying,” Lyn murmured. “When do you see Dr. Hong?”

  “In six weeks.”

  “You’ll stay with me, right?”

  “I’d like that.” MJ made a mental note to check airfares. She also needed to ask her mom to watch Cody. It promised to be an expensive, complicated trip, but she trusted Dr. Hong and didn’t want to take a chance on a local doctor.

  The vacuum stopped. Any minute Shane and Cody would come downstairs. “I better go.”

  They said good-bye and MJ set down the phone. When Cody and Shane walked into the kitchen, the glint in Shane’s eyes shot quicksilver through her veins, warming her and makin
g her shiver at the same time. What had she gotten herself into with that dinner invitation? Cody had disobeyed her because he found Shane irresistible. Looking at him now, MJ feared she had the same problem.

  Shane forgot about Kim the instant the window shattered. By the time he and Cody cleaned up the glass, went to Home Depot, and put in the new pane, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone other than MJ and her son. Between the pretty blush on her face and Cody’s enthusiasm for Home Depot, Shane felt right at home. He offered to do dishes after dinner, but MJ insisted he was a guest and shooed him into the family room.

  Instead he went upstairs to check the window caulking. It looked good, but the toilet was running. The handle needed a jiggle, so he stepped into MJ’s bathroom to fix it. As he rounded the corner, his gaze landed on a lacy pink bra hanging over a towel rack to dry.

  Shane was no stranger to the battle against lust. As Coach Harper used to say, “It’s not the first look that matters. It’s the second.” Avoiding that second look now, he tapped the toilet handle and left the bathroom. His Christianity was in tatters, but he wasn’t a jerk like some of his teammates. His feelings for MJ were honest and natural. He liked her, plain and simple. Not only was he attracted to her, he sensed that she, too, needed to heal. Someone—maybe Cody’s father—had broken her heart.

  “Shane!” Cody called from the bottom of the stairs. “Where are you?”

  “Just checking the window. I’m headed down now.”

  Cody met him halfway down the steps. “Want to stay for Yogi Bear cartoons? My mom found them in the attic. They’re super old!”

  “Did you ask your mom first?”

  “She said yes.”

  “Then I’ll stay.”

  He and Cody walked into the family room, where MJ was neatening up the coffee table. When she told Cody to go put on his pajamas, he raced upstairs to his room. Within five minutes, Shane and MJ were seated on the couch three feet apart, and Cody was on the floor, a lump in a sleeping bag decorated with dinosaurs.

  They watched several episodes, munching popcorn and drinking apple juice while they laughed at Yogi’s antics. Shane enjoyed every minute of the silly old show, but it was MJ who captivated him.