can do that.”
“Do you need an advance on your pay?”
“No, but... Well, to do a background and check my employment and college transcripts, you’ll have to look for the name Devon Anne McAllister. I’ve been concerned that someone is looking for me. I don’t know that for sure, but someone...the man I lived with could come looking for me. If he were to ask people...”
Scott Grant was frowning. “Were you abused, Devon?”
Clear-eyed and calm, she answered, “He forbade me to leave. We weren’t married but he said I was free to go without my daughter. Of course I couldn’t do that. I left without his approval.”
Scott Grant folded his hands on the small table. “You’re clear now, aren’t you? That’s abuse? Right?”
“It could be a lot of things, I guess.”
“Should you talk to Deputy McCain about your experience?” he asked.
“No, I should try to get on with my life.”
“If I understand the law, you are, as the mother, the assumed custodial parent in an unmarried situation. The biological father has rights, and he can assert those rights legally. But preventing you from removing your child from his home would be considered custodial interference. Now, if you refused to acknowledge his legal rights, you would be guilty of the same. But this is a court matter.”
She shook her head. “He will never go near a lawyer or courtroom.”
“I see. Well. Before we start working together, I’d like us to make an agreement. I’ll help you as much as I can. I’d like you to give me your word—if you discover this man is looking for you, I want you to talk to Mac. He’s a good man. You can trust him. He would know what advice to give you.”
She nodded. “I can agree to that. I’d rather just put it all in the past.”
“Understandable.” He sipped from his cup. “So? Tomorrow at eight?”
“You weren’t planning on working on Tuesdays,” she reminded him.
“Tomorrow will be different. We’ll call it orientation. Bring your daughter and we’ll take her to my house together to meet Gabriella. I’ll check with her tonight, but I have no doubt she’ll be happy to take on one more three-year-old. I think the kids will like having a playmate. I think it will work for you.”
“Do you know how much she’ll charge?” she asked hesitantly.
“I don’t know, but Gabriella is very nurturing and reasonable. We’ll talk about it with her in the morning.”
“Okay. Yes, that’s wonderful.” When Devon stood, she found her legs were weak, her knees shaky. She put out her hand. “I don’t know how to thank you for giving me this chance. I promise I’ll do a good job.” She took a breath. She was exhausted. She smiled tremulously. “That took more energy than you can imagine.”
He stood as well, taking her hand. “You’ve had some struggles, haven’t you, Devon?”
“You have no idea,” she said on a breath.
“Then I’m glad I can be the one to offer you a chance to turn things around. From this moment on, it’s all up to you.”
Five
As Devon walked back across the beach, her spirits rose with each step. In her previous life, things had been so impossible! And now, at her very first try at finding a job, she was found acceptable. In fact Dr. Grant said “highly qualified”! It was beyond her imagination. She had tears running down her cheeks before she even realized it. She wiped at them impatiently.
When she was halfway across the beach, she stopped and looked out past the big rocks to the Pacific. There was a boat out there, a mere spec on the horizon. Sarah’s brother was on his paddleboard and it appeared he had a young boy along for the ride. The sun was high and bright; the air almost balmy. She passed a young mother with two small children playing on the beach, a stroller and a little cooler beside her towel. Mercy would like that—to be able to play and read and romp on the beach under a warm summer sun.
And she thought, God, if I’m lucky enough to make a life for myself and my child in this small place, I swear I will never complain about anything again!
She was halfway up the beach stairs when she saw him again. Spencer was just coming down. As he made to pass her on the stairs, he frowned and stopped. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. “You all right?”
He must have noticed her tears. She wiped her cheeks and smiled a little. “I got a job,” she said in a faint whisper. She cleared her throat and tried that again. Louder. Stronger. “I got a job!”
He smiled at her. “Good for you. Where?”
“In the doctor’s office. Full-time!”
He just laughed, silently.
She pushed past him and ran the rest of the way up the stairs and into the bar. There was just Cooper behind the bar, putting things away. She knew her smile was huge and her cheeks bright with excitement. “Where is Rawley?”
“Well, now. Looks like that job interview went well,” Cooper said with a smile. “They’re in the kitchen. Rawley is making bread with Mercy—a first. I hope she’s taken charge. He’s never done that before.”
With a laugh, she darted into the kitchen. With a stool propped up to the counter, Mercy was kneading green dough, rolling it out and making snakes. “What are you two doing?” she asked.
“Mercy said she was good at making bread and pie crust,” Rawley explained. “I thought green would be fun.” He wiped his hands. “How’d it go?”
“I got it,” she said in a near whisper. “I start tomorrow. And unless there’s some problem I don’t know about, I can share Dr. Grant’s babysitter. He’s a single father with two little kids, so he knows it can get complicated for single parents.”
“Good for you,” he said. “How’s ’at feel?”
“Oh, Rawley, you can’t imagine.” Her eyes teared up again. “All weekend I prepared myself for the inevitable—that he wouldn’t find me qualified. Or even that I wouldn’t look the part. You just can’t imagine...”
He turned to grab his coffee. “I reckon I can imagine.”
“I should...ah...look around for a place of my own,” she said.
He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a half smile. “That so? Last time I looked, you didn’t have no truck full o’ furniture.”
“Maybe there’s something furnished,” she said. “We don’t need much.”
“You do that if you want to, but it ain’t necessary. I got used to the two of you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were cousins. Family. Ain’t hardly had any family. My mother, she passed when I was barely a man. I had no brothers or sisters and, don’t
