Finding a hero, p.1
Finding a Hero, page 1
Finding a Hero
Baytown Heroes
Book Two
Maryann Jordan
Finding a Hero (Baytown Heroes) Copyright 2022
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover: Graphics by Stacy
ISBN ebook: 978-1-956588-17-0
ISBN print: 978-1-956588-18-7
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Also by Maryann Jordan
About the Author
1
Twenty-two years ago
Joseph (Eastern Shore of Virginia)
* * *
“I d…d…don’t feel so g…g…good.” Scuffing the toe of his shoe on the floor, Joseph Newman stood in the nurse’s office, wishing he could just call his mom to come get him without explaining why he wanted to go home.
“She’s not home right now,” the nurse said, barely looking at him as she bustled around the clinic. “But you can stay here for a little while until your stomach feels better.”
He nodded, sitting on the hard, plastic chair, his legs swinging since they didn’t touch the floor. The clinic’s door was open, and he could see into the hall. Recognizing his brother walking past the door, he felt his heart leap when Wyatt popped back around the doorframe, his eyes wide. “Joseph? Are you sick?”
Joseph looked over at the nurse, who was busy dispensing medication to several others who’d come in. Wyatt sat in the chair next to him, and Joseph noticed it was easier to breathe just by having him close. Shrugging, he mumbled, “J…J… Just don’t feel g…g…good.”
Wyatt didn’t say anything for a moment but put his arm around Joseph’s shoulders. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
He shrugged again, not surprised that Wyatt knew he wasn’t really sick. Wyatt had just turned ten years old, two years older than Joseph, and he was lucky because Wyatt was also his best friend.
“Stevie making fun of you again?”
He nodded, looking down at his worn jeans where his knee almost showed through the threadbare material. They had been bought as used at the thrift shop when Wyatt was eight, and now that he’d outgrown them, they’d come to Joseph. He didn’t mind hand-me-downs—it seemed that most kids he knew wore them. But when their dad lost his job, it was harder to replace the clothes when they were worn out. Stevie and his bully friends made sure to point out when Joseph’s clothes had holes in them. And the speech problems he’d overcome with speech therapy in first grade came back when he became nervous.
“I’ll find him after school and make sure he knows not to bother you,” Wyatt promised.
Joseph jerked around and shook his head. “N…N… No, Wyatt. You c…c… can’t. I d…d…don’t want you to g…get in trouble.” Wyatt was never in trouble. He always did his homework. Always helped their parents. And always helped him and their little sister, Betsy. Joseph didn't want Wyatt to get in trouble as much as he wanted Stevie to have to take back his mean words. “Anyway, it’s not j…just me. He m…m…makes fun of others, t…too. I t…told him to leave S…Susie alone, but then he m…made fun of m…me.” More than anything, he wanted to be brave like Wyatt and make Stevie stop making some of the other poor kids cry.
Wyatt nodded, sighing heavily. “Stevie thinks his poop doesn't stink because his family has money.”
He snort-giggled and covered his mouth with his hand before nodding for Wyatt to go on.
“But deep down inside, he knows his poop does stink. He’s just trying to keep everyone from looking too hard at him. You’re the nicest kid in third grade. That’s what matters.”
The two sat for a moment, then the nurse turned around, her eyes widening. “Wyatt, I didn’t see you there. Are you sick, too?”
“No, ma’am. I just came in to check on my little brother.” Looking down at Joseph, he asked, “Are you feeling better now?”
He nodded. Nothing was quite like having his big brother around to make the world seem less worrisome. Looking up at the nurse, he said, “I think I can g…go back to c…class now.”
As the two Newman boys walked down the hall, they first came to Joseph’s classroom. Turning toward Wyatt, he grinned, then worked hard to get the words out. “Thanks, Wyatt. I’ll be okay n…now.”
“You’ve got this, Joseph.” Wyatt smiled in return. “Remember, whenever Stevie starts running his mouth, you just hold your head up high. And then you tell me, and I’ll kick his ass!”
Stifling a grin, he nodded, then walked back into the classroom, lifting his head even though his stomach still flip-flopped a little. More than anything, he longed for the day when things would change, and he’d be able to protect others.
Shiloh (Pennsylvania)
* * *
Shiloh walked along the path that led from her tiny school toward home with the others from her community. The mountains were thick on either side of the road, and she loved to jump between the rays of sunlight that streaked through the limbs.
“Come on,” Rebecca called. “You know this is bread-making day, and Mama wants our help.”
Shiloh’s eyes widened with anticipation. She loved freshly made bread, especially when their mama would let her make her own small loaves for her pretend tea parties. “I’m coming!” she called out, racing after her older sister. Her dress was a little long since it was a hand-me-down from Rebecca, but their mama had stitched it so that it fit Shiloh’s thin body as though it were made just for her.
Rebecca was already eleven, four years older than Shiloh, and so much more grown up. Rebecca walked when Shiloh ran. Rebecca listened quietly when Shiloh loved to talk. And Rebecca didn’t wiggle in church when Shiloh wanted to dance.
“My girls are different, but they’re just the way God meant them to be,” their dad would say with a smile.
Hurrying after Rebecca, she raced up the lane, deeper into the mountains surrounding their little community. Many of the families in their town would homeschool their children rather than have them make the long walk to the closest school. Their parents insisted their girls attend public school, even with the walk. Although when the weather was rainy or snowy, her dad would take them in the old farm truck. But on days like today, Shiloh felt as though she could walk forever, loving the fresh air, the scent of the pine trees, and the glory of the surrounding mountains.
Sometimes she would look at books and wonder about the people who lived on the other side of the mountains. Big cities. Fancy clothes. Cars and buses and trains and planes. The ocean! She thought perhaps that was what she might like to see the most.
“Hey, Rebecca. If you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?”
Her sister looked over with an indulgent smile on her face. “We play this game all the time. You know my answer… I’m happy right here.” Rebecca waited a few seconds and then sighed. “Okay, Shiloh, if you could go anywhere, where would you go?”
“The ocean!”
Rebecca pretended surprise as her head whipped around, causing her long braid to fly over her shoulder. Laughing, she replied, “You always say the ocean.”
“I know, but don’t the pictures in our books make it look so big with waves and sand and crabs and shells?” Her imaginings came to a halt now that they had rounded a curve in the road. The woods fell away, and she could see a field in the distance. Their dad was on his tractor and spied them as well, lifting his hat off his head and waving it in the air. Shiloh looked around at the beauty before her. “I want to see the ocean, but then I don’t want to leave this.”
Rebecca reached for her hand as they crossed the field. “Stay here with me, Mama, and Papa. Then nothing will ever change.”
Shiloh liked that idea and raced her sister toward home.
2
Twelve Years Ago
Joseph (Eastern Shore of Virginia)
* * *
Joseph stared at Maggie and couldn’t believe the words c oming from her mouth.
“He makes me feel special… He brings me roses, not picked wildflowers… He has his own car… His daddy works at the bank.”
On and on, each explanation for why she was breaking up with him was like a lash against his bare skin. Or another piercing of his heart.
“You can’t mean that, Mags. How could you go from ‘I love you’ to ‘I’m breaking up with you’ in a day?”
Her face contorted as she shot her glance to the side. “It hasn’t been just a day.”
He jerked as though hit in the gut. “You’ve seen him while seeing me?” He couldn’t imagine how that happened, and no one told him. A hot flame of embarrassment hit him.
“He doesn’t go to our high school. I met him when I visited my aunt in Maryland last month.”
“S… So, these family trips you’ve been taking each weekend have been to see someone else?”
“I’m sorry, Joseph. I just need someone who’ll be here for me after graduation and not on a ship somewhere far away.” She glanced over his shoulder toward his house. Pressing her lips together, she said, “Your family probably hates me.”
He didn’t need to look behind him to know that his family gathered for his birthday celebration could hear them. His parents now had air-conditioning, but to save money, they mostly kept the windows open to let in the fresh breeze. He wanted to beg and plead for her not to leave but instead lifted his chin, working to hold on to his pride.
“So, um… well, have a happy birthday. I’ll see you around, Joseph,” she tossed out, almost as an afterthought, before she hurried to her car.
He’d stood on his lawn, battling tears, his heart ripped open, and wondering how the hell he could have been so wrong. He was barely aware of the front door opening, but Wyatt soon stood next to him.
“I’m sorry, bro,” Wyatt said, placing his hand on his shoulder.
His nod was the only acknowledgment he could manage. Wyatt had always been the responsible one. And in truth, he was both Joseph’s idol and a source of envy. Wyatt was the serious one who looked out for him and his sister. The two brothers had always been close, although it had sometimes chafed when teachers would roll their eyes and purse their lips at his laid-back attitude and easygoing wit. They’d remind him that Wyatt had always taken his studies seriously. Growing up, he battled the desire between wanting to be his own person and wanting to emulate his older brother.
He supposed that if their parents had always made unfavorable comparisons or if Wyatt had been sanctimonious, he probably would have hated being around him. As it was, they became closer as they grew older.
“You don’t want to hear this, but honest to God, if she wants to be with someone because of the material things they offer in place of being with you, then she’s not the right one.”
The right one. Swallowing deeply, he winced. “But I thought she was.”
“I get it. But you’re young. You’ve got a career ahead of you. You’ve got a world to explore. You’ve got a lot of years to see what’s out there before settling down.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever find them. Or even know when I do.” He swiped at his eyes, the pain in his chest almost unbearable.
“I know, and I’m sorry as fuck.” Wyatt sighed. “The truth is, I’ve got no real good advice, so I probably should just shut up.”
He looked over, sucking in a breath that felt like molasses instead of air. His brother had given up a day of leave that he could have spent anywhere but chose to spend it with family for Joseph's birthday. Wyatt joined the Navy after graduation, and Joseph couldn’t wait to follow in his brother’s footsteps. With only one more month to go until graduation and then heading off for Navy boot camp, he’d been on top of the world.
His heart ached, but he was also pissed. The girl he loved and thought loved him had chosen a shitty-ass time to break up with him. All that told him was that she really wasn’t the right one.
Like his brother, Joseph had gained height, muscles, thick, dark blond hair that lightened in the sun, blue eyes, and what the girls called a killer smile. And for the first three years of high school, he’d used those to his advantage. He’d dated, never going steady with anyone until Maggie. Meeting her on the first day of their senior year in English class had made a one-woman man out of him.
The right one. Joseph had been sure he’d found the right one, sure that he and Maggie would stay together forever. He loved that they could have a good time on a walk doing nothing more than picking wildflowers by the side of the road. Or going out in his dad’s old truck to sit on the little pier nearby. He thought she liked the simple pleasures, too.
He’d even considered not joining the Navy just to stay on the Eastern Shore for her, but his family convinced him that he needed to follow his dreams. They’d also reminded him that as soon as he was stationed somewhere, Maggie could join him.
He wasn't stupid enough to think he would get over her quickly, but reaching over to place his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, he said, "I'll be okay. It might take a while, but I'll be okay. Hell, I'll soon be going to boot camp, and she'll become a distant memory.” He wasn’t too sure about the “distant memory” comment but figured if he started saying it now and said it often, it might come true.
Wyatt grinned. “Let’s go get more of the leftover birthday cake.”
Agreeing, the two brothers walked inside the house where his anxious family wanted to make sure he was taken care of.
Lying in bed that night, he gave way to a few tears before rolling on his side and letting the night breeze blow through his window.
If he knew one thing, it was that his parents had met the right one. No matter how tight money had been over the years, his parents pulled together to make sure the family had what they needed. They gave unconditional love not only to him, Wyatt, and Betsy but to each other as well. He’d overheard Betsy ask their parents one time how they knew they were right for each other, and while he’d thought that it was a girlie question, he couldn’t deny that he was curious about the answer.
“You just know,” his dad had said. “You’ll feel something. It might be a tingle. It might be a kick in the gut. But you’ll look into their eyes and feel something you’ve never felt before. And it’ll hit you that you want to keep looking into that person’s eyes forever.”
He tried to remember if he’d felt something when looking into Maggie’s eyes but had to admit that he’d mostly loved the way she filled out her clothes. Rolling to his back, he tossed his hand over his head and sighed. One day. One day I’ll look into someone’s eyes and just know. And until then, no one gets my heart.
Shiloh (Pennsylvania)
* * *
Shiloh looked into the mirror at the dress her mother had sewn. White cotton with a bit of lace for the short sleeves and around the scoop neck and hem. It was beautiful. Fit for a bride. It had been Rebecca’s wedding dress four years ago when she married the man of her dreams, Thomas. They now had a little girl who was the center of the family’s world.
Blowing out a breath, she continued to stare at her reflection as she thought of what would happen in a few months when she turned eighteen and married Edward. Edward Wallen. He was three years older and had just been given land by his father close to her parents' farm. She’d known him for years but had never felt anything other than friendship for the reserved young man. He was handsome enough with his dark hair and hazel eyes. He was tall and lean— certainly not like the muscles she’d seen on the covers of a few romance novels her mother had hidden away. Her mother always called the books her guilty pleasure, and considering they weren’t on the shelves in their living room for visitors to take note of, Shiloh assumed they were also her mother’s secret. But Shiloh had read a couple of them and loved the idea of a forever, passionate love with a man who would take her breath away. And she’d look at him and just know she’d found the one… the hero who would come in and sweep her off her feet.
