Rescued By The Farmer. Mia Ross
hit the windshield with a force that jerked her back to reality with a startled yelp. Before her eyes, the already chipped upper right corner of the glass spider-webbed into a large crack. She let out a dejected sigh. Repairing the radiator a few days ago had taken the last of her meager cash. There was no way she could do anything more until she found herself a job.
A fluttering at the side of the road dragged her attention away from her pity party, and she realized that whatever she’d hit was still alive. She wasn’t exactly a nature girl, so she wasn’t sure what to do, but she couldn’t leave an injured animal alone and helpless in the woods, suffering until it finally died. Moving slowly to avoid scaring it any further, she eased the driver’s door open and crept to the edge of the gravel lane. There, in a wallow filled with mud, lay the most incredible creature she’d ever seen.
A hawk with striking white-and-rust-colored feathers lay on the ground, clearly stunned but still conscious enough to watch her through one dark, mistrustful eye. The other was half closed, and from the odd angle at which its wing rested, Bekah assumed it was broken. The poor thing was breathing so fast, she couldn’t have kept up without hyperventilating. It seemed to her that it was waiting for her to finish the job her windshield had started.
“Please, don’t be scared,” she cooed to the terrified bird. “I want to help you.”
When she moved closer, it began flapping its good wing in a panicky gesture that made Bekah instinctively stop in her tracks. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how.
“Hey there,” a deep voice murmured. “Need a hand?”
Terrified by the unexpected sound, she whipped around to find a tall man behind her. Dressed in running attire, he was obviously out for a jog, which explained why she hadn’t heard him coming. Apparently, he sensed her fear, because he held his hand out to her with a friendly grin. “Drew Kinley.”
Shocked into silence, at first she couldn’t make herself respond. He patiently kept his hand within her reach until she managed to reply. “Bekah.”
She didn’t shake his hand, and out of habit, she stopped short of adding her last name. Either he didn’t notice, or he didn’t care, because he skirted around her and assessed the injured animal from a safe distance. “Looks bad. What happened?”
“I’m not sure. One minute, I was driving along trying to figure out where I am, and the next, blam! I ran into this poor hawk. I feel terrible,” she added in a near whisper. She’d had enough pain inflicted on her in her life to know how it felt, and she knew all too well that being all alone only made the problem worse. Knowing she’d caused this beautiful creature so much pain made her nauseous.
Unfortunately, her confession brought Drew’s gaze back to her. His light brown hair was damp from his run, and it occurred to her that his eyes were a unique blend of green and gold she’d never seen before. When they focused on her, she watched as idle curiosity shifted to concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” When she realized he was staring at her cheek, she lifted her palm to cover the healing bruise. “This happened a while ago.”
Darkening like thunderclouds, those eyes took on a fierce quality that made her backpedal in self-defense. When he noticed her motion, he put on a smile that looked forced but much less menacing.
“I’m sorry, Bekah,” he told her in a soothing Kentucky drawl. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just hate seeing a woman hurt that way is all.”
Why did he even care? she wondered. She was a complete stranger, and he’d interrupted his morning run to help her. This sort of innate kindness was so far beyond her experience, she didn’t know what to say.
After waiting several seconds, he seemed to understand she wasn’t going to respond. “So, back to your friend here,” he said in a chipper tone. Unzipping his hoodie, he asked, “Do you have a box for us to put this hawk in to keep him from struggling?”
“You can tell he’s male from way over here?”
Looking a little puzzled, Drew shrugged. “Not really. I just assumed.”
Typical guy, she huffed silently. “What’s wrong with assuming she’s female?”
“Good point,” he conceded with a sheepish grin. “Do you have a box to put her in?”
“Um, no. But I have a big duffel bag.”
“That’ll do. Why don’t you empty it out, and I’ll try not to scare the poor thing any more than we have to.”
Relieved to finally have a plan, she opened the rear hatch and took out the bag holding all her clothes. She dumped them on the floor of the car and offered the bag to Drew.
Cocking his head, he gave her a half-grin. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. I’m gonna have my hands full of angry hawk, so you’ll need to hold the bag for me to drop her into.”
Backing away, she shook her head in protest. “I don’t think so.”
“I can’t do this by myself,” he reasoned. “There’s an animal rescue center not far from here, but I need your help to get her there. Otherwise, I could end up hurting her worse.”
That did it for her. Feeling responsible for the poor animal being wounded in the first place, Bekah knew that the least she could do was help Drew get her to someone who could care for her properly. Screwing up the tiny bit of courage she still had in her, she grasped both edges of the bag and followed him to where the bird lay.
“Now, I’ll cover her with my sweatshirt to keep her from going nuts. Once her eyes are blocked, she should settle down some, and you can catch her in the bag.” Giving Bekah a bracing look, he asked, “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Good. I’ll make sure to get a solid hold on her, so she won’t hurt you.”
That he was concerned about her safety touched Bekah in a way so unexpected, she didn’t know how to process the emotion. In the few minutes she’d known this tall, good-looking man, he’d rattled her thoroughly more than once. And not in the bad way she’d grown so accustomed to.
Yanking her errant thoughts back to the matter at hand, she waited while he spoke reassuringly to the bird, edging closer when she calmed and pausing when she seemed to be growing unnerved by his presence. Finally, he was close enough to wrap the hawk in his jacket, and Bekah stepped up with the duffel bag to enclose the frightened animal.
Cradling the bundle, she felt the bird’s frantic heartbeat as if it were her own. She knew how it was to feel powerless, and she cuddled the hawk to her chest hoping to make her feel safer. “It’s all right, baby—you’re safe now. We won’t let any more bad things happen to you.”
The struggling eased a bit, and Drew opened the passenger door for her. When she understood what he was suggesting, she took a large step back. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve got her calmed down, so I figured I’d drive us to the rescue center. Is that okay?”
Not in a million years.
She was more or less comfortable with holding their patient, but the idea of allowing someone else to drive her to an unknown destination filled her with a terror so deep, it was threatening to choke her. That kind of blind trust had caused her no end of trouble in the past, and she wasn’t keen to set herself up for that again.
Then logic kicked in to remind her that it would be impossible for her to drive while holding the injured bird. Not to mention, she had no idea how to get to this rescue center he’d referred to. So, undone by necessity, she let out a quiet sigh and nodded. “I guess.”
Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he quietly shut the door and hurried around the front to get behind the wheel and start the engine. He pulled his cell phone from a cargo pocket on his shorts and put it on speaker before pulling onto the road. A pleasant voice on the other end answered, “Oaks Crossing Rescue Center. This