A Place To Call Home. Sharon Sala
when he’d seen the scene unfolding. The bull had already done a job on the passenger side of his Jeep and was now butting against the radiator as hard as he could. Judd sighed, watching the steam spewing up from under the hood. No telling what was busted, but it really didn’t matter. For now, the child was safe.
He began running his hands over the little girl’s body, desperate to assure himself that she had come to no harm. He’d yanked her pretty hard when he’d picked her up, but there hadn’t been time for gentle introductions. When he was satisfied that she was all right, he glanced at the bull, who had taken an angry stance a distance away.
So far, so good, Judd thought, and looked around for the woman he’d seen running earlier. Then he saw her on her knees a distance away. It was obvious from the expression on her face that she was in pain.
Beyond the Jeep, the bull began pawing the earth, sending showers of dust into the air. Every now and then, the air would shift from the force of an angry bellow.
Judd eyed the woman nervously. If the bull figured out she was there, she could very well be its next target. Saying a prayer that the Jeep would still move, he grabbed the little girl to keep her from falling, then put it in gear.
“Okay, baby, let’s go get your mother.”
The little girl stared at Judd with a solemn expression.
“Mommy,” she said, pointing with the flowers she still held.
“I see her, honey. And I have a suspicion she would like to see you, too.”
The Jeep moved forward amid a spewing mist of steam. He drove slowly, hoping the bull would stay his ground.
Charlie saw them coming, and her heart skipped a beat. The bull stilled, watching intently as the Jeep began to move. She started to get up, and then realized that motion—any motion—might set the bull off. She held her breath, almost afraid to blink. The fire in her ankle was spreading up her leg. When the Jeep stopped beside her, she tried to stand up, then dropped back to the ground from the pain.
A deep, gravelly voice suddenly rumbled close to her ear. “Easy there, lady, let me help.”
Charlie was starting to shake. “My baby—”
“She’s fine,” Judd said. “Put your arms around my neck.”
Charlie reacted instinctively, clutching at the collar of his shirt as he picked her up. She had a vague impression of a hard body, dark hair, and a muscle jerking at the side of his jaw as he set her into the driver’s side of the seat. Charlie winced as she slid over to the passenger side, grabbing at Rachel as she moved.
“Mommy,” Rachel said, and crawled into Charlie’s lap as if this was an everyday occurrence.
Charlie clung to her baby in desperation and buried her face in her neck. Seconds later, the door slammed and she knew that the man had climbed back inside. She needed to thank him. She needed to look in his eyes and see the man who had given her back her world, but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the child in her arms.
Finally, she looked up. Rachel was smiling that sweet baby smile, unaware how close she’d come to getting them both killed.
Charlie stared at a smear of pollen on Rachel’s cheek, as well as a crushed petal stuck to the corner of her lip, and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Rachel hadn’t just been picking the flowers; it looked as if she’d been eating them as well.
Tears welled, spilling down Charlie’s face as she wrapped her arms around Rachel, flowers and all, and rocked her where she sat.
“Mommy cwy?” Rachel asked, feeling the streaks on Charlie’s cheeks.
Charlie choked on a sob and buried her face in Rachel’s curls. “Yes, baby, Mommy’s crying. You scared me.”
“Fwowers, Mommy. Picked you fwowers.”
Charlie nodded and tried to smile, but it was impossible.
Judd saw her distress. The woman was in pain, both emotionally and physically. He looked toward the cluster of buildings just beyond the fence and put the Jeep in gear.
“Hang on, lady. I’m taking you home.”
Chapter 2
The farmhouse looked old, but well-cared-for. The single-story white building was a perfect square, with a deep wraparound porch framing the exterior walls. A brown brick chimney rose above the rooftop on the north side of the house. Judd suspected that on a cold winter day the smoke from that chimney would rise high above the grove of surrounding trees.
The woman beside him was still crying, although silently now. He couldn’t blame her. For a while there he’d felt like crying himself. As he crossed the cattle guard, the Jeep began to sputter. By the time he got to the house, it was barely moving, but it didn’t matter now. They were safe. He killed the engine, then glanced at the woman to his right. There was dirt on her face and blood on her knees, and her fingers were trembling as she brushed at the baby curls tumbling around the little girl’s face. In his line of work, he’d seen plenty of people in shock, and he wanted to get her inside before she started coming undone.
“Ma’am, if you’ll allow me, I’ll help get you inside, and then I’ll be needing to use your phone to call for a tow.”
Then, what the man had sacrificed to save them hit Charlie. She glanced up, and for the first time, she really looked at him. His eyes were blue—so blue they were almost transparent. His features were even, his jaw strong. There was just a hint of a crook to his nose, an indication of it once having been broken, and there was a small jagged scar on the right side of his jaw. And he was big, so very big. His shoulders spanned almost half the width of the seat. She remembered the feel of his hands closing around her waist and pulling her up to safety, and she shuddered.
“Please, call me Charlie.”
He smiled. “I knew a Charlie once, but he wasn’t as pretty as you.”
It was just the sort of silly remark Charlie needed to gather herself together. “It’s short for Charlotte…Charlotte Franklin.”
Judd extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, ‘short for Charlotte.’ My name is Judd Hanna.”
Charlie hesitated, but only briefly. His grasp was firm but gentle, and again, the ordinary gesture took another bite out of her unsettled nerves. She sighed, then pointed to the hood of his car and the smoke spewing out from beneath the hood.
“Mr. Hanna, I’m so sorry about what happened to your car.”
“Judd, please,” he said, and then looked at Rachel. “As for the damage, it was worth it. Now, let’s see about getting you two inside.”
He took Rachel out of Charlie’s arms and then carried her to the porch.
“Wait right here, honey. We’ve got to help Mommy, okay?”
“Help Mommy,” Rachel echoed, and then sat down on the steps, the wilting flowers still clutched in her hand.
Charlie scooted across the seat and then out from under the steering wheel, but when she tried to stand, her ankle gave way. Before she could argue, Judd picked her up and started up the steps. A little nervous that a total stranger had taken charge of her life, she began to fidget.
“Mr. Hanna, I—”
“Judd.”
She sighed. “Judd, this is embarrassing.”
He paused. “Lady, allow me the honor of helping one of the bravest people I ever saw.”
She flushed. “I don’t know what you—”
His voice grew quiet, and the look in his eyes hushed her words.
“You would have both died. You know that, don’t you?”
She