The Soldier And The Single Mom. Lee Tobin McClain

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The Soldier And The Single Mom - Lee Tobin McClain Rescue River

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paused. “I’d prefer finding work, but I don’t know what’s available.”

      So she thought of herself as homeless. That suggested she wasn’t just traveling from point A to point B. Something else was wrong. And it was weird, because she did have that rich-girl look to her. Her clothes were stylish and new, her haircut and manicure expensive looking. But she also looked scared.

      “Not sure if you’ll find anything formal around here, but the churches are big on outreach. I can take you to ours. And then...you mentioned talking to the police about your car?”

      “They’ll want to get it off the road as much as I do.” She frowned. “I just hope they won’t put my name in some kind of system.”

      “You hiding from someone?” he asked mildly.

      Her eyebrows went together and her eyes hooded. “I... Yeah. You could say that.”

      “Boyfriend? Husband?”

      She shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

      That figured. A woman as pretty as she was had to have a partner, and Bobby had a father. Had someone abused her? “I’m not asking you to tell me everything, but I can help you better if I know your situation.”

      Her cheeks flushed with what looked like embarrassment. “Thanks.” She wasn’t saying more, obviously.

      “Where were you headed, originally?” he pushed on as he finished painting the crown molding.

      She didn’t answer, so he repeated the question.

      “I don’t know,” she said finally. “Anywhere. It didn’t matter. I just had to leave.” She studied the cupboard she was sanding, one of the old-fashioned and charming parts of the breakfast room, according to Lacey. “I wouldn’t mind finding a place to settle for a while. As long as it was safe.”

      Not here, not here. He didn’t need any complications in Rescue River, and this woman seemed like a complication. “Safe from what?”

      She shook her head. “Too long of a story.” Her voice sounded tense.

      “Okay, then, what would you like to work at? What are you shooting for, jobwise?”

      “My line of work was being a housewife, but obviously I need to find something else.”

      Hmm. From the little she’d told him, he’d guess she’d been abused. And the last thing he and Lacey needed around here was an angry husband looking for his wife and child. She didn’t show any bruises, but maybe they were hidden. “What are you good at?”

      “Organizing things. Raising kids. Planning parties.” She shrugged. “The type of thing housewives do.”

      He’d have said that housewives washed dishes and cooked meals. He had a feeling about what kind of housewife she’d been—not an ordinary one. With that breakfast she’d cooked, he could imagine her catering to some wealthy husband, giving brunches for country-club ladies.

      So it was very interesting that she’d run away.

      * * *

      Gina was bone tired after her short, broken sleep and a morning of physical work, and stressed out about the eleven messages she’d found on her phone, her in-laws demanding that she return Bobby to them immediately. Of course she’d disabled the GPS on her smartphone, but she was still worried her in-laws could somehow find her.

      But Buck had offered to drive her around and, tired or not, she needed to seize the opportunity. Once she had her vehicle nearby with some gas in it, she’d feel better. She’d have an escape route and she wouldn’t be quite so dependent on the kindness of strangers.

      When she went out to Buck’s truck, he was leaning in through the rear door, adjusting something.

      “Wow, where’d you get a car seat? That’s wonderful!”

      He cleared his throat. “It was sitting around here.” He reached out and took Bobby from her arms without meeting her eyes, then settled him into the infant seat and expertly adjusted the straps.

      Mr. Tough Guy continued to surprise her.

      They stopped first at the grocery store, a small, homey market a quarter the size of the superstore she’d shopped at back home. The aroma of rotisserie chicken filled the air, and bushels of produce, labeled as locally grown, stood in rows just inside the front door. Gina held Bobby in his sling, facing out so he could see the people passing by, which he loved. Buck waved to a cashier and pounded a bagger on the back as they walked toward the baby aisle.

      When they got there, she picked out six jars of the cheapest baby food available. She looked over at the diapers and bit her lip, hoping the single one remaining in the diaper bag would last until she got to the box in the SUV.

      Buck held a plastic basket for their purchases and studied the shelves. “Look at this stuff. Turkey with pears. What self-respecting baby would eat that?”

      “I know. We used to see the weirdest baby food at World Gourmet. Avocado risotto, vanilla bean with spinach...” But that was a lifetime ago, when she’d been able to shop at the most expensive healthy foods emporium in her California town.

      “Buck Armstrong, is that you?” came a woman’s husky voice.

      They both turned. There in the food aisle of the Star Market was the most beautiful woman Gina had ever seen. Tall, super skinny, with high cheekbones and long shiny stick-straight black hair.

      A little intimidated by the woman’s breathtaking looks, Gina could only offer a smile.

      “Amy Franklin?” Buck reached out and hugged the woman, then held her shoulders to look at her, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s been a lot of years. Welcome home!”

      “It’s nice to be back. Kind of.” The woman wrinkled her nose. “And this must be your wife and baby! I heard you’d married. He’s adorable!” She reached out to tickle Bobby’s chin.

      “No, I’m not—”

      “No, this isn’t—”

      They both broke off. Bobby reached out to grab for the woman’s gold necklace.

      “No, sweetie.” Gina loosened his fingers from the shiny chain and took a step back. “I’m just a friend he’s helping,” she said to the woman.

      “Oh! My bad.” The woman looked apologetic. “I have a little one, too,” she said, turning her attention to Gina. “I’m raising my nephew, Tyler, and he’s about this one’s age. Maybe we could get together for a playdate sometime.”

      “That would be great. I’m...” She paused, wondering how to describe her uncertain status. “I’m just in from California and I don’t know anyone. Well, except Buck and his sister.”

      “I’m originally from California, too! We should definitely get together!”

      Gina felt a surge of warmth. The idea of making mom friends on her own, rather than having acquaintances who were part of her wealthy in-laws’ power network, was just

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