The Hero by Robyn Carr Page A

But the driveway on the other half was swept and the windows were clean. But that didn’t help the overall effect much. “What a dump,” he muttered.
    “Holy crap,” Sarah said.
    “Hold up a second,” he said.
    Spencer got out and went up to the house. He cupped his hands around his face and peered inside. Then he turned back to Sarah. “Who the hell lived here? Hell’s Angels? It’s horrible,” he said. “Filthy. Holes in the walls. Stains everywhere. Cigarette butts ground into the floor. A lightbulb instead of a fixture. It looks like a crack house.”
    Sarah came up beside him and pressed her face up against the front windowpane. “Ew,” she said. “She’s got her work cut out for her. It looks like a fixer-upper.”
    “What the hell was she so happy about?” Spencer asked.
    “Maybe this looks a lot better than what she had,” Sarah said with a shrug.
    “But she’s staying with Rawley, right? And he’s a little different, but Cooper said he’s dependable and a good man even if he’s not the most talkative. And he has a good, clean, sturdy house with plenty of room for them....”
    “It’s not always just about houses, Spencer. Maybe this represents more than that to her. You should ask her.”
    He thought about that for a second. “Maybe,” he said. “If I run into her.”
    * * *
     
    Spencer didn’t run into her, at least not for a few days. He didn’t go by the doctor’s office or the diner. In fact, since seeing that god-awful duplex, he’d been trying not to think about her. For something like that to make her smile, to make her happy meant her previous circumstances must have been so much more pathetic than she let on. And that made him just plain sad . It was crazy that a beautiful young woman with an adorable little girl had escaped something bad only to land in that disgusting hovel. It amazed him to consider the idea that she might see this as breaking free.
    But he couldn’t get the girl off his mind.
    * * *
     
    He nursed a cup of coffee at the bar while Sarah and Cooper looked at their building plans—not just for a house, but for the whole ridge that stretched between his place and the town, including roads. Austin was in the RV watching TV, laying around and eating cereal out of the box. Landon had taken one of Cooper’s kayaks out on the bay for an upper-body workout and would come in for his work shift after that. There were two kayaks rented, two paddleboards, and since Spencer had been in the bar, six people had been in for coffee. Four of them took coffee cups down to the beach and dock; two customers sat on the deck and enjoyed the morning view.
    Despite all this activity, Spencer couldn’t get the girl off his mind.
    Rawley came into the bar from the kitchen. “I need a little time, Coop. You okay here alone?”
    “No problem, Rawley,” Cooper replied without looking up.
    “Could be gone for a spell.”
    “I got it,” Cooper said, still studying the layout in front of him.
    A minute later, Spencer heard Rawley slam something into the bed of his truck outside. Then he was back in the kitchen. Next he was struggling out the door with a box full of stuff. Then he was back, then out again with a load of cleaning implements—mop, broom, rags.
    Cooper finally looked up. “Rawley, what the hell are you doing?”
    The old guy stopped short, mops and brooms and stuff in his arms, and said, “Every night I beat Devon and the little one home and you know why? Cause she works all day, then takes the little one to that shit hole she rented. They eat a sandwich she packed up and then Devon tries to make a dent in the filth and damage of that house while her daughter either looks at her books or sits with that old lady neighbor next door. It just ain’t right. I’m going over there. See what I can do.”
    As if he had been hit with a cattle prod, Spencer was off his stool. “I’m in that with you, Rawley. Let me get my shoes and tell Austin I’ll be gone