to help them. You have the most current information on Marvin. You could help a lot.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, though she hadn’t yet managed to summon up enough anger toward Dex/Marvin to want vengeance. She was still in disbelief with more than a hint of denial. Part of her expected Dex’s familiar lemon-yellow Porsche to come hauling up the street, the trunk full of presents for her and Adam.
“Just one more thing.” Without warning, he hauled her into his arms and hugged her fiercely.
“Luke!”
“Hush. You need this.”
The security of his embrace, the warmth of his body, felt way better than it should have. She knew she should end it, but for a few moments, all she wanted to do was empty her mind and drown in his warmth, his caring.
She’d always been able to count on his caring. Even when she’d treated him not so nicely, back in high school, he’d had a seemingly inexhaustible ability to forgive her, even if he couldn’t understand exactly what made her tick, what made her want to wander the world in search of new sights, new adventures.
After a few moments, it was Luke who loosened his arms first. She pulled back reluctantly, realizing as she did that hugging her might not be that pleasant given that she hadn’t bathed in two days. “Thanks, Luke,” she whispered, perilously close to tears again as she escaped inside her house.
Which wasn’t really her house any longer, she reminded herself. Cindy mentally shook off her lethargy. She couldn’t take refuge in inactivity any longer. She had to move, make decisions.
When she’d told Luke she had someplace to go, she’d thought she was lying. But maybe there was someplace.
Her parents had owned a boat, which was moored at Town Lake. It was an old, twenty-foot cuddy cruiser. Her father’s idea had been that they would fix it up, then take it to Lake Texoma. When Cindy was little, they used to close the restaurant on holidays and spend a day or two on the lake, floating aimlessly on the water while they sanded and painted and sewed curtains. But then their interest had waned. No one had used the boat for years and Cindy had been meaning to sell it.
She’d surely never mentioned the boat to Dex. It might be the one asset he’d overlooked. And though it was small, it had a sleeping cabin with a real bed and a tiny galley with a one-burner stove and a marine toilet. She’d recently paid for six months’ dock fees at the marina.
Maybe it wasn’t a great plan, but it beat sleeping in her car.
Cindy started packing. She found a few boxes and suitcases in the attic and filled them with clothes—she didn’t have many—toiletries and Adam’s favorite toys. She did laundry—no telling when she’d have her next chance. She loaded everything in her car, along with Adam’s collapsible playpen.
Lastly, she packed up her food—every crumb. It was enough to last her a few more days. She put the stuff from the fridge in a cooler, along with some ice.
“Well, baby,” she cooed to Adam, “I said I wanted adventure. Guess I should be careful what I wish for, huh?”
Adam laughed and made a grab for her earring. She was glad he was too young to understand, too young to share the insidious fear that had crept into every cell of her body.
Broke, homeless, jobless and with a child to support. What a mess she’d gotten herself into.
Chapter Three
Luke watched from a distance, lurking in the shadows at the marina behind a houseboat. He’d heard a rumor that Cindy and Adam were living here on her parents’ old boat, but he had to see for himself.
Sure enough, the canvas cover had been removed from the old cuddy, which was called the Cindy-Lou—Cindy’s childhood nickname. It looked as if someone had cleaned the worst of the grime off the boat. Carlo Bruno, the marina manager, had told Luke the boat had been docked here for years, with only the lightest routine maintenance to keep it from sinking.
He saw no other signs of life. He decided it was his official duty to check on Cindy again and to keep checking on her until he was sure she was okay. She’d been in a fragile state when he’d seen her a few days ago.
He remembered a time when his own mother had been in a similar fix. He’d been about four at the time, and his mom had been evicted from her grungy apartment in Tyler. They’d been forced to live in the car for a while. He remembered a highway-patrol officer shining a flashlight into the car, where they’d been parked in a parking lot trying to sleep, bundled up in blankets. And this upstanding law-enforcement officer, sworn to serve and protect, had told them without an ounce of concern that they would have to move on, that it was illegal to sleep there.
He wished someone had tried to help his mother back then, when she hadn’t yet been beyond help.
At any rate, he wasn’t going to be like that state trooper.
He stepped on board and knocked on the hatch. It suddenly occurred to him he’d spent a lot of his life knocking on doors, waiting for Cindy. Even when she’d been in love with him, she’d always kept him waiting.
Eventually the hatch opened. He was gratified to see that Cindy looked much better than she had a few days ago. No puffy eyes. Her hair was sparkling clean and pulled back in a loose braid, and she wore jeans and a pale pink T-shirt, the V-neck showing just a hint of cleavage. She’d put on a little weight, he noticed. And it was in all the right places.
“What are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously.
“I heard you and Adam were living here. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You can tell that to all the town gossips. Man, they must be having a field day with this.”
“Cindy, if you think your friends and neighbors are getting enjoyment out of your bad luck, you’re wrong. Everyone who knows you is worried. Can I come in?”
With a careless shrug, she retreated down the short staircase and he followed. The boat wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. She’d obviously been cleaning, because the whole place smelled like oranges.
“You want some coffee?” she offered grudgingly. “It’s instant, not like what I serve at the café, but the caffeine still works.”
“Sure, I’ll have some. Where’s Adam?”
“Still asleep. We’ve been busy the last couple of days trying to get settled in here.”
She moved into the tiny galley, which was only a couple of steps away. In fact, nothing was more than two steps away. It was a cute and cozy boat, he’d give it that. The carpeting and upholstery all looked new, the paint surprisingly fresh. Everything was tidy and efficient—except for the stack of boxes shoved to one side of the living room.
Moments later, Cindy handed him a steaming cup of black coffee.
“What, no biscuit with honey?”
“You know, a few days ago I was complaining about all the biscuits I had to bake. Now I’d give anything to be back in that stifling kitchen with flour all over my hands.”
“Maybe
