Hometown Honey. Kara Lennox

Hometown Honey - Kara  Lennox


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out of the front yard and down the street.

      Cindy just looked at Luke. “You didn’t have to do that.”

      “I want to help. That’s the main reason I got this job, you know. To help people. To resolve conflicts.”

      “How much did you give him? I’ll pay you back.”

      “Don’t worry about that. The main thing is I bought you a little time, but not much. I get off at three and I can get a horse trailer from my brother’s place and help you move.”

      Where? Where was she going to move? She’d sold her parents’ house. She had no other relatives in the area. She couldn’t possibly move in on Tonya or Kate or Iris—they had enough trouble, what with their sudden unemployment and all.

      But she couldn’t admit her dire straits to Luke. He was the one who’d warned her about Dex—Marvin, dammit. She was so humiliated, felt so stupid, and she just couldn’t bear to rely on his kind, compassionate help a moment longer.

      Plus, she was going to have an emotional crash. She’d been holding back a colossal crying jag for days, and she didn’t want him to witness that.

      “I do have a place to go,” she said. “And I’m not going to worry about moving furniture. It’s all garage-sale stuff anyway—let Ed LaRue have it. I’ll take our clothes and a few personal items, nothing that won’t fit in my car trunk. I appreciate your offer to help, Luke—I really do. But I’ll be fine.”

      He looked as if he didn’t believe her.

      She forced a smile and made shooing motions with her hands. “Run along. Go catch some criminals. I have a little packing to do.”

      “If I find out you’re lying about this, I’m coming after you,” he threatened. “Call me when you’re settled someplace.”

      “Sure.” When hell froze over.

      “Oh, and you need to contact those women—Brenna and Sonya?”

      She sighed. “Why?” She didn’t want to wallow in shared stupidity with these other women, women who’d loved Dex or whatever name he’d given them, women who’d probably slept with him, who’d thought they were marrying him. “I want to move forward, not dwell on past mistakes.”

      “Well, they want to catch Marvin and get their money back, or at least enjoy the satisfaction of putting him behind bars. I’ve agreed 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


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