Waiting for Sunrise: Baytown Boys Series Read online

  “Thanks, but I’m good. Right now, the manager of the mobile home park has let me have a small plot. I got electricity and water, so it’s all good.” He did not mention that it also happened to be down the street from the woman he secretly stared at every chance he got.

  “Don’t forget the American Legion meeting next week,” Grant reminded. “It’ll be the first one since you moved here.”

  He had left the Navy before Zac was discharged, but his own small town in the rural hills of Tennessee had not been a good place to return to. Few jobs. Everyone expecting him to go off on a bender—get drunk and start a fight like his old man. A loner, he still felt constrained so, after only a couple of weeks, he moved to Norfolk, where he had last been stationed with the Navy. At least there, he could start something new. And one job led to a career change he had not been expecting.

  Zac had emailed numerous times once he, too, was discharged, eventually telling him about Baytown and the American Legion that he and his buddies had formed, but with a new job, the timing was not right. It took another year before he finally decided to take Zac up on his offer. Once in Baytown, he was glad he had made the move. But, for how long? He wondered if he was just a wanderer or would ever feel like settling down.

  He listened quietly as the others talked about the upcoming American Legion meeting, impressed that Baytown had opened their arms wide for the veterans that came back and also welcomed so many newcomers.

  His mind on the upcoming meeting, he had not realized uncertainty showed on his face until Ginny leaned over and placed her hand on his arm.

  “It’ll be good, I promise. A chance to meet more people, but no one gets in your face.”

  He was not sure he believed her, but he nodded silently nonetheless. The game on the beach ended and Brogan headed straight to Ginny, tucking her into his embrace. As the gathering closed in on the food table, he stepped off the porch and walked slightly to the side, giving the others a chance to get to the food and giving himself a chance to enjoy the view without so many people around.

  His eyes scanned the beach by the bay and he took another swig, letting the warm sunshine ease the tension from his shoulders.

  A dark-haired woman walked toward the shore, a pastel floral sundress swinging about her hips, modestly hanging to just above her knees. Her sandals were dangling in her hand and as she turned slightly to the side, her generous breasts were showcased in a tight, but also modest, bodice. Keeping his eyes toward the water, he followed her progress in his peripheral vision. Isabelle Gunn…Belle. The bottle halted on its way to his lips as he sucked in a breath. Long, sleek hair that hung down her back, with a light blue ribbon holding it away from her face. A cross between an old-fashioned pinup model and an innocent girl, his breath caught in his throat before he let it out in a long, slow hiss. He did not have a specific type of woman, but Belle…well, her curves captured—and held—his attention.

  Heart pounding a steady beat, he continued to observe her as she walked to the shore, barely sticking her toes into the water. Alone, she stared out over the bay, the breeze tossing her hair. Fuckin’ hell. He not only had to endure seeing her as he integrated into Baytown, but also every day at work and in the mobile home park where he lived. It was agony…pure, fuckin’ agony to keep his distance.

  2

  Present Day

  The knock on the door in the early morning had Belle rushing to answer it. She was not surprised to see the young, teenage girl standing on her front stoop. Her gaze took in the thin girl, her dark blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, her makeup-free face smiling up at her. She wore a pair of slightly large, worn jeans and a T-shirt. Typical for a teenager, but they were old and ill fitting.

  She noted her pale complexion as she greeted, “Brittany, come on in. I’m still getting ready for work, but you can have some oatmeal or cereal if you like.”

  She had no idea where Brittany’s dad was, but her mom, Trudy, was not a great influence. Their mobile home was toward the back of the park, in the section that was not well maintained.

  She often wondered why the park was divided into two sections. The homes near the front were well maintained and the owner had more stringent rules and regulations for keeping the small lots beautiful. The few streets near the back of the park looked very much like the entire place had when she was growing up—trash cans overflowing, homes with paint peeling, late night parties.

  Brittany had been coming by ever since she was a child and had seen Belle in her yard planting flowers.

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  I looked over my shoulder to see a young girl, her dress two sizes too big and no shoes on her dirty feet. Her hair needed combing and her knees were skinned, but it was her eyes that captured my attention. Bright blue.

  Standing, I wiped my hands on my apron and said, “I’m planting flowers.”

  “How come?”

  Chuckling, I said, “Because they’re pretty and I like pretty things.”

  The girl said nothing but scrunched her face in thought.

  “Do you want to help?” I was sure the child would scamper away but, instead, she darted next to me, a grin on her face and nodded.

  We planted flowers along the front of my home for a few minutes. She watched what I did and, a quick learner, soon was planting without any instructions.

  “How old are you?” I asked, assuming her to be about five.

  “I’m eight,” came the reply.

  “Oh,” I mumbled but she must have anticipated my thoughts when she wiped her cheek with a dirty hand and told me that she was little for her age. I noted her thin arms and legs. She did not talk much, but I found out that she lived with her mom in one of the run-down trailers. As we finished, I invited her in and she readily accepted.

  Stepping into my house, she stared, wide-eyed, as though in a castle. Taking her into the bathroom to wash her hands, I managed to wash her face and legs as well. She even let me put antiseptic cream on her skinned knees.

  With her clean face, I grinned and said, “I knew there was a beauty underneath that dirt.”

  Her eyes held mine and she said, “Ain’t no one ever called me a beauty before.”

  “Well, I told you I like pretty things and you are certainly pretty.” I watched her face break into a smile and offered her a hug.

  As we walked into the kitchen, I made sandwiches and served her. Watching her eat, I realized how hungry she was when she put away two of them, plus chips and apple slices, two glasses of milk, and four cookies.

  Grinning, she looked up at me with those blue eyes and said, “Can I come back sometime?”

  “Of course, if your mom says it’s okay.”

  Her face scrunched again, and she shook her head. “She won’t care…she never cares where I am.”

  As much as it broke my heart to hear her words, they resonated with me in a deep place that I rarely let anyone see. Sucking in a shuttering breath, I smiled and said, “Then come anytime.”

  Brittany did not come by every morning before school, but Belle knew that she would be there when the young girl wanted to get away from her house.

  A few minutes later, Belle walked back into the kitchen, wearing light pink scrubs, and smiled, seeing Brittany shoveling down a microwaved bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon sugar sprinkled on top.

  “Are you doing okay, sweetie?”

  Brittany smiled up at her, and nodded. “Mama wasn’t up yet…she kinda had a late night. We didn’t have anything for breakfast, so I figured I’d stop by your place on the way to school.”

  She was not surprised that Brittany’s mom was not up yet, considering it was only seven a.m. Her mother seemed to have a constant parade of company that liked to party late and Brittany had confessed how much she hated that. Setting those thoughts aside, she patted her shoulder as she walked by. “Well, you know you’re welcome anytime.”

  “You gonna to be at the next game?”

  Brittany was one of the children and teens playin
g on the sports teams the American Legion sponsored and organized. For many of the children in the area, whose parents were unable to afford the cost of uniforms, equipment and fees, the AL sports program was a godsend. “Of course I’ll be there,” she replied.

  Brittany finished her oatmeal, taking her bowl and spoon to the sink to wash them out. A shy glance shot over her shoulder, she remarked, “You been studying more? It’s like you study all the time.”

  Glancing at the open textbooks on the table, she nodded, “Gotta work hard to get where you want to go.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “How’s school going for you?”

  Lifting her thin shoulders, Brittany replied, “I get all A’s.”

  “I’m not surprised, as smart as you are.”

  “There’s not much else to do but study,” she said. “I stay at school extra to study in the library ‘cause it’s quiet.”

  She nodded, understanding, since she had spent a lot of her study time in the same library as a teen.

  Brittany suddenly changed the subject, commenting, “Seems like all your friends are hooking up.”

  “What?” Surprised at the unexpected turn, she tilted her head.

  Shrugging, Brittany said, “I see ‘em after the games. All your friends…you know, like Miss Ginny is with Mr. Brogan, Miss Jillian is with Mr. Wilder, Miss Tori is with Chief Evans, and Miss Jade is with Mr. Green. Even Chief Hamilton is with that new lady, Miss Maddie.”

  Narrowing her eyes playfully, she placed her hand on her hip and asked, “And your point would be?”

  “Nothin’. I just kinda thought maybe it was your turn.” Brittany dropped her eyes and sighed. “You’re awful nice and real pretty. I know some of the single men in town would be a good catch. I just thought you might be looking to get hooked up with someone.”

  A flippant reply died on her lips as she stared intently at the young teen in front of her. Too thin, because her mom did not always have enough food in the house. Too tired, because her mom often had parties late into the night. Starved for attention because her mother gave her little. And, as she continued to stare, she saw something else in Brittany’s countenance…fear.

  Walking the few steps over to her, she placed her hands on Brittany's shoulders, drawing her gaze back up to her eyes. “Yes, one day I’d love to find someone that I can have a relationship with. And, yes, one day I’d love to get married. But, so far I haven’ t found anyone special that I want to spend my life with.”

  Brittany sighed and Belle added, “I promise, when that happens, I won’t forget about you. We can have breakfast any time.”

  Brittany’s face transformed into one of young beauty as she smiled widely, radiating relief.

  Offering her a quick hug, she said, “Grab your backpack and I’ll drop you off at the bus stop.”

  Belle was standing next to the driver’s door as Brittany climbed into her old car, when the roar of a motorcycle engine grabbed her attention. Twisting her head to follow its path, she watched as the driver headed down the road. Sucking in a quick breath, she bit her lip as her eyes traced the brawny man, his thick thighs hugging the powerful engine underneath him as he leaned to the side, turning out of the mobile home park and onto the main road.

  Thinking about the party this past weekend, that had her scoping him out from the bathroom window, she sighed. She saw him all the time since they worked in the same building and her heartbeat raced every time their paths crossed. But, other than a barely-there nod sent her way, he appeared to not know she was alive.

  Giving her head a quick shake, she pulled herself from her musings. Stopping at the bus stop, she called out, “Have a good day, Brittany,” as the young woman alighted from her car with a little wave. Driving away, she looked into the rearview mirror and noticed Brittany hung back slightly from some of the other, tougher-looking teenagers waiting for the bus, and had a flashback to herself years ago.

  Hours later, her white, rubber-soled shoes padded softly down the hall as she hurried along. Only fifteen more minutes. Feeling the effects of studying late last night and finishing a full shift, she had glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. Running through the list of what she needed to remember for the upcoming test, she hoped she could leave on time. One more night of heavy studying and she was sure she would ace her class.

  “Isabelle!”

  Skidding to a stop, she backtracked two steps, peering into one of the rooms. “Mr. Rasky? What can I do for you?”

  “Is it time for dinner yet?”

  Walking into his room, she smiled at the white-haired, wizened man whose bright blue eyes were staring up at her from his wheelchair. “Well, now that you mention it, I do believe it is almost time. Would you like some help?”

  “Hell, no, Missy. I just can’t read the clock on the TV anymore but my stomach is growling.”

  “Then, let’s take care of that growling stomach,” she said cheerily, side-stepping out of his way as he wheeled erratically out of his room. Walking next to him, she escorted him into the dining room, smiling and calling out greetings to the other patients along the way.

  Once she had him settled, she hurried back into the hall. She had a few more tasks to cross off her list for the day before she could leave. With the residents mostly in the dining hall, she picked up her pace, knowing the path was clear of walkers and wheelchairs.

  Pulling a small notebook from her pocket, she looked down at the notes she had taken while studying last night. The test was still two days away, but she believed in being as prepared as possible.

  Suddenly slamming into a hard object, she screamed briefly before quickly finding herself on the floor, sprawled out and in pain amongst broken glass.

  “Auggh, shit.” Not one to typically curse in public, this occasion warranted the slip.

  “Fuck.”

  She cringed. Oh, no. Of course Hunter would witness this.

  Gaining her bearings, she peeked open her eyes and found Hunter staring at her. Maybe if I lie here long enough, he’ll just disappear.

  Hunter stared down, horrified at the scene below him. Changing the long, thin, fluorescent light fixtures in the back hallway, he had been standing on the stepladder close to the wall. With the residents at dinner, he had determined it would be a good time and a quiet place to get the job completed. Never hearing anyone approach, he had been shocked when the ladder suddenly jolted violently underneath him, causing the light to fly from his hand, shattering to the floor.

  Hearing a yelp of surprise before it turned into a cry of pain, he grabbed the ladder, forcing it to steady. Twisting his body, he looked down, seeing the crumpled form of the woman he had been surreptitiously staring at for two months.

  Belle. As beautiful as her name indicated, his eyes always found her no matter where she was. She was not particularly short, but at six feet, three inches, he towered over her. It was hard not to stare when she approached him in the hall, her nursing scrubs pulled slightly over her full breasts. Watching her walk away had been equally pleasurable, as her hips swayed underneath the light cotton material.

  Whenever he had chanced a look at her face, he found himself turning away, her beauty impressed on his mind. Lustrous, thick, shiny dark hair, always pulled back away from her face, either in a ponytail or a bun when she was at work. And the ever-present ribbon. Usually the color matching her scrubs, or sundress, the strip of cloth gave her an innocent air that caused his heart to beat harder every time he saw her.

  Her face, highlighted with the lightest makeup, fresh and unblemished. A smattering of freckles crossed her cheeks, causing his fingers to twitch, wanting to trace each one. Her eyes, deep brown, would meet his before jerking away as she hurried along.

  When they were at the same gatherings, he noticed she did not lack for male attention, but from all appearances, she did not date anyone. When their eyes met there, too, she blushed and looked away. He did not blame her for hustling by, knowing his rough looks were more suited to a biker bar, but had
often wished for a chance to talk to her.

  He had driven by her house in the mobile home park and it always made his day when she was outside working in her little postage-stamp yard or talking with a neighbor.

  He had watched her with the patients as she cared for them, her soft voice and quiet manner soothing even the grumpiest ones. Unlike some of the other nurses and aides, she eschewed the employee lounge that was often filled with gossip or complaints. More than once, he saw her eating on the patio, often with a textbook open in her lap and a pen furiously scribbling what he assumed were notes.

  As his feet came unstuck, he clambered down the ladder, his heavy boots crunching the broken glass on the floor next to her. Seeing her attempt to push up to a sitting position, he yelled, “Don’t move!”

  She twisted her head upward, her pain-filled eyes meeting his and her mouth opening slightly. Uncertain of her injuries, he knelt down placing one arm under her knees and the other one under her arms. Standing, he lifted her and carried her away from the glass.

  Belle, stunned to find herself in Hunter’s arms, yelped again as she threw her good arm around his neck.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  His deep voice soothed over her but, unable to relax, she stiffened in his embrace. As soon as he moved her past the broken glass, he knelt again, setting her gently onto the floor. He grimaced as she winced in pain. “I’m so sorry. So fuckin’ sorry, Belle.”

  Even in her pain, she was surprised he knew her name, having only ever greeted her with “Ms. Gunn.”

  “No, no. I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s all my fault.” Even as tears threatened to fall, she glanced down the hall at the shattered glass light fixture. “Please, I’m fine, we need to get the glass cleaned up before anyone gets hurt.”