Courage (Strength Series Book 1) Read online

  “Goodbye, Alex. I look forward to meeting you.”

  “Bye…” What was his name? Where did I just sit that paper? I grab it up from the floor where it fell and say “Chance”, but he’s already gone.

  Chapter Three

  Monday dawns so humid the act of walking is more like swimming through the air. I wake soaked in sweat, nauseous, and exhausted. The shower I take is as cold as I can stand it, despite protests from Cadan. Or maybe they’re baby high fives since he must be hot too. Either way, there’s a lot of movement. When I get out, I dress in jean shorts, a tank top, and sneakers. I pull my too-long red hair up into a ponytail.

  I debate on makeup and decide it will just melt off within the next half hour anyway. I know this isn’t the way I should dress for a job interview, but the sad fact is none of my nice clothes fit over my belly anymore. I’m pretty sure he won’t show up anyway. Even if he does, he’s not going to hire the nineteen-year-old, hugely pregnant girl.

  There are still several hours until I need to be at the diner so I get to work doing laundry. My clothes don’t make a full load so I grab Bay’s and Mike’s clothes out of their room and throw those in as well. The bathroom needs a serious wipe down, but as bad as it looks, it only takes a few minutes. I continue, cleaning the whole house. Vacuuming, mopping, dishes, dusting, everything I can think of.

  When I’m finished folding the clothes, I put mine away and place Bay’s and Mike’s on their bed. I still have over an hour left until I need to start walking to the diner. Heading to the kitchen, I search for something that will stop my stomach from rolling as Cadan kicks insistently. What I want is crackers, but it doesn’t appear that we have any, so I settle for ginger snap cookies instead. I rationalize that they’re cracker-ish, and that maybe ginger is good for an upset stomach. Didn’t I hear that somewhere?

  I turn on the TV, but only succeed in finding mindless fluff on it. Skanky looking girls fighting over who the baby’s daddy is, drug addicts arguing with each other in front of a judge, soap operas where everyone has far too much money and nowhere near enough happiness. Sometimes I think I must be an alien because most of the things that seem to appeal to the masses make me ashamed to be a part of this species. I shut it off and decide to head to the diner early.

  I’m about halfway to the diner when I realize what a mistake it was not bringing a water bottle. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me lately, but I need to get a grip. I’m not even sure if I’m going to get a chance to get a grip since I just may die before I ever get there. Sweat is pouring off my face, running down my back. Even my legs are soaked in sweat, my socks so wet I feel as though I’m walking in puddles.

  I know there’s no way I’m getting this job now. I laugh to myself. Idiot. I feel disgusting. There’s no way my deodorant is going to hold up to this and I can’t imagine hiring myself to clean sewers, let alone anyone else hiring me for any other purpose. At least Cadan is quiet. It makes it harder to walk when he’s kicking around a lot.

  Wait. Maybe it’s too hot for him. Maybe I’m overheating too much. Is that possible? Why don’t I know this? I’m supposed to know this, right? Shit.

  I’m on a long country road where virtually no cars go by, and the houses are spaced so far apart it will be another ten or fifteen minutes before there’s one in my sight again. There isn’t anyone that will come by to help me, and there’s no cellphone signal. Of course, I haven’t had the money for the bill in a while so it probably won’t work anyway.

  Usually this road isn’t a problem since it’s a quiet town with very little crime. Unless you count dirt bags that beat on their girlfriends and steal their money, that is.

  I’ve never felt afraid walking here, though. I like it. The trees are beautiful, and the quiet is what I prefer. Just now it seems dangerous, though. If I pass out from heat stroke who knows how long it will be before someone comes by to help me?

  I suck in air and walk faster. I need to get somewhere cooler. I need to get water for Cadan. Slow and steady wins the race, but if I go any slower I’ll never get off this damned road. I power walk with as much pitiful strength as I can muster, as I talk to my baby boy. “I’ll get us there, Cadan. I won’t let you down, baby.”

  Chapter Four

  Main Street appears like an oasis up ahead. The trees drop back away from the road and the buildings lift from the ground as if by magic. I’m more relieved than I have ever been.

  When I reach the door, I’m appalled at how much my arm shakes from the effort of just opening it. Stepping up into the diner I trip on legs made of rubber, catching myself on the back of a booth inside the door. An older man, maybe mid-sixties, with kind blue eyes, jumps up from one of the stools at the breakfast bar and grabs my arm.

  “Easy, honey. Are you alright?” The alarm in his voice makes me more alarmed. I must really be a mess. “Mary, get this poor dove some water, will ya?” he yells to a waitress.

  He shuffles me over to a booth and gently pushes me down into the seat. I want to answer him, reassure him that I’m fine, but I think if I do my throat will burst into flames. It hurts so much.

  “Here’s your water, honey, take a drink.” He shoves the water at me and wraps my hands around it, sitting down across from me. The glass is blissfully cold and I want to press it to my forehead, climb inside it, dump it over my head. Drown in it.

  Restraining myself, I lift the glass to my lips, while trying to understand why it’s so heavy. I’ve never had a glass of water so heavy in my life. It must be the ice. Too much ice. I can’t put it back down, though. I gulp and gulp. I feel bits of it run down my chin and onto my chest and I’m sad that I’ve wasted it, but it feels so good. He snatches the glass out of my hand, and I try to grab it back.

  “Slow down. You’ll get sick. You don’t want to get sick, honey,” he explains.

  “I need it,” I croak. Whose voice is that? Is that my voice?

  “I know, but you have to go slow. Where are you coming from?” he asks. His face is wrinkled and tan, the white t-shirt he’s wearing splattered with what looks like mud. His gray hair, shoved under a green baseball cap with a tractor logo on it, looks a bit long. A farmer. A kind farmer.

  “Crayton Road.”

  “Crayton Road? You walked here from there?”

  “Yes, sir.” Maybe his mind is the one that’s clouded. If I drove, I wouldn’t need water so bad.

  “Are you crazy, girl? Don’t you know it’s a hundred and ten degrees out today? Do you have a death wish for yourself and that baby?” He seems angry, and I understand. I’m more than a little angry with myself. Why didn’t I think to check the weather? Why didn’t I grab the water?

  “I knew it was hot, but no, I didn’t check the weather. And yeah, I might be crazy, but I don’t have a car and I’m supposed to meet someone here about a job. I had to come. Though I should have checked the weather and brought water.” I try for as much courage as I can muster, but I know I come across as desperate. How else could I look seven months pregnant in a puddle of sweat? I slide the water out of his hand and take another desperate drink.

  “What the hell kind of person would ask you to do that? Couldn’t they have just picked you up?” He’s genuinely angry, so I decide to explain, as soon as I get another drink.

  “Of course, I would have picked her up,” says a low, velvet voice behind me that even my heat-addled brain recognizes. Chance Morris. Oh god. I wouldn’t have believed this could get worse, but it just did.

  “Why didn’t you then?” The old man snaps.

  “Because your girl here wouldn’t give me her address and asked to meet me here, which was smart since she doesn’t know me at all. The only problem is she failed to mention how far she would be walking, that she would be walking at all, and that she’s pregnant.” The low baritone of his voice sounds less smooth and more threatening than I remember.

  “I see. If you’re alright, hon, I’ll leave you two alone?” the old man asks, eyeing Chance over my should
er none too kindly. It’s sweet that he’s being protective.

  “I’m alright now. Thank you.” I reach out and squeeze his calloused hand to reassure him as he stands up to go back to his now cold meal.

  “I’ll be right here if she needs anything,” he says to Chance in a mildly threatening manner.

  “Yes, sir,” Chance replies, “I’d be surprised if you didn’t hang around to watch her.”

  As Chance moves to take the old man’s place across from me, I stare at my hands, unsure of what to say now that I’ve made such a mess of things.

  “You are Alex Bowers, aren’t you?” his voice is getting its silk back. I keep my head down as chills ride up my spine.

  “Yes.” I nod. I want to explain that I didn’t think he would show up, that I really thought it was a scam, but that sounds disrespectful. Rude. I’m not those things. Or maybe I am. I allowed him to come here about a job he’s probably not going to want to hire me for now anyway.

  “How far along are you, Alex?”

  “Seven months.”

  His sharp gasp is all I need to know. It’s too much. They’re not going to train me just so I can take all that time off for maternity leave. And I have to take the time off, don’t I? Daycares won’t take babies that little and I won’t want to leave him yet, or really ever, but certainly not that early, and I know you can’t take a baby to work with you. How am I going to earn money when I’m on maternity leave anyway? How will I feed myself? Keep a roof over our heads? I’ve made such a mess of things. I have no idea what I’m going to do now.

  I hear him take a deep breath, and decide to beat him to the ‘no thanks’ punch. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal. I’ll find something else. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’m pregnant, but I honestly didn’t expect to hear from you again. I expected to sit in this booth for a couple of hours and then go home and look through more ads and try to find another way to provide for me and Cadan. I didn’t expect to get hired today anyway so this really doesn’t change anything. I’m just sorry I wasted your time. I have no excuse for that.” I lift my head as high as I can and smile. Or I try. I think I make it.

  When I allow myself to look at him, my smile falters. This is no forty-something desk jockey. He’s maybe twenty-five, with broad shoulders and strong arms. His skin is darker than mine, and as he smiles back at me with odd silvery eyes, an entirely different kind of heat spreads through me. He has straight, white teeth, and there’s a small chip in one of his front teeth that adds to his appeal, instead of taking from it. A strong jaw, straight nose, and a small scar over his left eyebrow leave me yearning to reach out and touch. His sable hair is cut military style, and my hands itch to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

  I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I need to pull myself together. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m never going to see him again.

  “You want something to eat?” he asks.

  “No thanks. I ate before I left.” I would do almost anything for something to eat, but I have no money and I won’t take advantage. The smells of the diner are killing me.

  “That was a long time ago. Come on, I’m buying. Anything you want. You’re eating for two anyway. Let me buy you lunch.” His eyes say he’s sincere. It’s not pity, he really wants to buy me lunch, which is sweet, and I’m starving.

  “Okay, I guess. Thank you. If you’re sure.”

  “Absolutely. We still need to discuss the job anyway,” he says as he pulls a menu out of the holder next to the window.

  “What? You still want to talk about that?” I can’t believe he’s serious.

  “That’s why I came here and your pregnancy doesn’t change that, Alex. Now tell me what’s good to eat here.” He smiles again, and I try not to choke on my own heart.

  I’m about halfway through my turkey club and he’s almost finished with his cheeseburger and fries. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to. I now know that the business they’re starting consists of several things. The company mostly handles general contracting, but what they would need me for is primarily reception duties. I’m okay with that, and even though my experience is more retail based I think I can cross over alright. He’s aware that I never finished high school, but that I do want to get my GED and he’s okay with that, even encouraging.

  My main concern is that I won’t have anywhere to stay when I get there, but he’s willing to help me look for apartments in New York that will be close enough for me to walk to the office, so I’ll have a place when I get there. We’re both aware that this is a huge risk for me and I’m incredibly nervous. I waver between feeling like this is my future and thinking this is just one more really shitty decision. When I consider my options though, this isn’t plan A, this is the only plan I’ve managed to come up with.

  “So, is there someone else you have to ask about hiring me? Paperwork to fill out? Will you call me? What?” I ask.

  “No, no. I get final say. My brother hires as well but we don’t veto each other unless it’s really bad.” He laughs. “That hasn’t happened yet, thank God. There is paperwork, but I’m not going back until tomorrow so I’ll get all that together tonight. Then I can pick you up tomorrow and we can do all that. Once I get back I’ll look for a place for you up there and get you settled in before this baby comes if all goes well. Sound okay?”

  “Sounds like a scam.” I answer before I can stop myself.

  “Here, I’ll show you.” He laughs and reaches for his cellphone. He brings up a professional looking website that shows a contracting company and hands it to me. It lists contact information for Chance Morris, Jace Morris, Martin Morris, and Sharon Morris as well as various other employees. There are pictures and bios. It even discusses the new operations they are setting up in New York.

  “You’re from Tennessee? Why are you setting up in New York?” I ask, handing his phone back to him.

  “Mom and Dad are keeping everything going in Tennessee, but me and Jace wanted to start our own branch. After a lot of research, it looks like this part of New York could use the boost and so could we. After all the recent flooding up there, there’s a need for us, and a lot of people moved away. We think it’s a good decision. Time will tell.”

  “I think I—” I’m ripped up and out of my seat, and searing pain shoots through my upper arm as I’m whipped around.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Alex?” Travis growls the words inches from my face. Little flecks of spittle land on my lips and nausea makes my stomach roll. I dimly hear Chance in the background yelling at Travis to let go of me while the old man tells him not to be stupid, that he’ll make it worse for me.

  “Nothing, Travis. Just let me go. Leave me alone. Don’t cause a scene.” I plead. I can feel the bones in my arm grinding together.

  “You’re carrying my fucking kid and you think you can slut around town with anyone you fucking want to? Huh?” He shakes me hard and I nearly lose my footing. “You think you can do that to me, Alex?” More spittle, more nausea. I hope he lets go soon before I embarrass both of us.

  “No. I’m not slutting around town, Travis. Just let go. Please.” I’m ashamed that I’m begging, but I don’t know how else to stop this.

  The commotion behind me suddenly gets louder as whoever has been holding Chance back loses his grip and he’s right there, jerking Travis away from me. Chance is bigger, stronger, and far more pissed off. His fist slams into Travis’ jaw like a Mack truck into a beetle and Travis drops to the floor, unconscious. Stunned silence reigns for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. Blood runs from Travis’ face onto the dingy tile floor.

  “He’s the police chief’s son, man. You better get outta here before he wakes up,” someone says to Chance.

  “What? I better get out of here? Didn’t you all see him grabbing her?” His rage fills the air around us.

  I can’t breathe. Everything is falling apart. I was going to be okay. I was going to get away. Now I’m not, Chance is going to jail, Trav
is is going to kill me, possibly for real this time, and Cadan is never going to get any of the things I wanted to give him.

  Travis stands up and people shuffle away, acting like they haven’t seen a thing. “You’re done you son of a bitch.” He points at Chance as he backs toward the door. “You’re both so fucking done. You’ll wish you were never born. I hope the stupid whore is worth it.”

  The door slams behind him and I hang my head where I stand. I hate that I’ve ruined this man’s life. This kind, sweet, and caring man who only tried to defend me. When his hand touches my arm, I jump.

  “Shhh,” he whispers. “I won’t hurt you, Alex.” My arm is already blooming in purples and blues and he curses under his breath when I wince.

  “Let’s go,” he says. He throws money on the table and directs me toward the door.

  “Where?” I ask. I don’t know what he means. Is he taking me to the police station as a witness for him? How do I explain that won’t help him?

  “I’m taking you home before I get arrested.”

  “I can walk.”

  “You’re not walking, Alex. Let’s go before the cops show up.” He doesn’t seem angry with me, just determined to get me home, so I walk with him to a huge, black, four-door, full size truck. He opens the door and I try to lift my leg to get in, but it’s too high for my five-foot-two-inch frame. At least seven months pregnant it is. Not quite sure what to do, I’m trying to put my knee on the floorboard to climb when I hear him laugh. I’m scooped up in his arms so fast it knocks the air out of my lungs. I know I’m heavy with the baby, but it seems effortless for him.

  I look up and our faces are so close I see I was wrong before. His eyes aren’t just silver. They’re silver and blue. A bright, sapphire blue is a glittering ring around the edges of the silver. Like clouds in a midnight sky. They’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.