Free Cape Refuge Series 2 in 1: Cape Refge And Southern Storm by Terri Blackstock

you?”
    “Just coffee,” he said, then he turned back to Sadie. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I saw you get off that bus and look around like you didn’t know a soul in town. And you wouldn’t be eating in a diner if you had any place to go.”
    “Slick, you’re not trying to bother my cousin, are you?” Tammy asked, leaning on the counter. “Because I get real protective when men come around here hitting on her.”
    He looked up at her, surprised. “Your cousin?”
    “Yeah, my cousin,” she said. “You got a problem with that?”
    He looked slowly from Tammy to Sadie a time or two, then got back to his feet. “Cancel the coffee,” he said. He strolled to the door, glancing one last time at Sadie as he started out.
    “Come again,” Tammy shouted cheerfully across the room.
    Sadie grinned up at her when he was gone. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I don’t know him, and he keeps trying to get me to go home with him.”
    “He wants you to do more than go home with him,” Tammy said. “He wants to put you to work. He spends a lot of time over at the bus station waiting for runaways. You ain’t a runaway, are you?”
    Sadie shook her head hard. “No. Of course not. I’m eighteen. I can go anywhere I want.”
    Tammy nodded. “Eighteen, huh? Yeah, and I’m twenty-two.”
    The woman was at least thirty-five.
    “Eat your pie,” she said. “It’s on me.”
    “I can pay,” Sadie said.
    “I know you can, honey, but if my intuition is telling me right, you need to keep every penny you got. Just accept it as a goodwill offering welcoming you to the big city of Savannah.”
    Sadie buried her fork into it. “I’m actually not staying here,” she said. “It’s just as far as Greyhound would take me. I’m headed east.”
    Tammy laughed. “Well, not far east. Tybee Island is only fifteen minutes away, and then you’re right smack-dab at the Atlantic Ocean. No farther east to go unless you get on a boat or swim. Few minutes south of that and you’re on Cape Refuge.”
    “Cape Refuge?” Sadie asked. The name sounded inviting.
    “How do you get there?”
    “Out Highway 80,” she said, “on the Island Expressway. It takes you to the bridge that goes to the Cape.”
    Sadie had pictured herself at the Atlantic Ocean, sleeping on the beach where no one would bother her, listening to the sound of the waves against the shore. She had only seen that on television, had never experienced it for herself. It sounded romantic and hopeful. How could anyone ever be unsafe on a peaceful beach? And in a beach town she could probably find a job working in a restaurant or a deli or in a souvenir shop of some kind. No high school diploma needed. No college degree.
    “Honey, level with me,” Tammy said, meeting her eyes across the counter. “It’s one thing to lie to old Dreadlocks about having a place to stay, but give it to me straight. You’re on your own, aren’t you? You don’t know the slightest soul here, do you?”
    Sadie averted her eyes again.
    “That’s what I thought,” Tammy said. She pulled out her writing pad, jotted something down, then tore off the page and handed it to Sadie.
    Sadie looked at the piece of paper Tammy had given her. “‘Thelma and Wayne Owens,’” she read aloud. “‘Hanover House.’ Who’re these people?”
    “People who’ll take you in,” Tammy said. “They’re known around this area for collecting strays, if you know what I mean.”
    Sadie didn’t like the sound of that. She wasn’t a stray. She had a purpose, even though she didn’t know what it was.
    “They put people up all the time. Mostly, they take people just out of jail, who don’t have jobs or places to live, and they help them get on their feet. They have this real cute little bed-and-breakfast on the island. They’ll take you in, all right, if you can get there. And let me tell you something. You could do worse than hooking up with Thelma and Wayne Owens and sleeping in that