Читать книгу A Place To Call Home - Sharon Sala - Страница 10

Judd couldn’t remember ever wanting to touch a woman as much as he wanted to touch Charlotte. Her skin, an even golden tan, was glistening with a faint sheen of perspiration as she crawled around on her knees, weeding the flower garden in front of the house. She wore her hair in a thick rope of braid, and the warm chestnut color glowed from the heat of the sun. The braid hung over her shoulder as she worked, and each time she straightened to rest her back, it would bounce against the thrust of one breast. Her shorts were old and frayed at the hems, the denim fabric faded by countless washings, and the logo on her T-shirt was completely illegible. He kept staring at the slender curve of her neck and the high, delicate instep of her small bare feet, and telling himself to focus on something else. He didn’t listen.

Beyond the sandstone walk, the baby played, carrying a small bucket of dirt from one pile to another, then scooping it up and doing it all over again. Overhead, a lone turkey buzzard circled high in the sky, looking for something to eat. Judd glanced up, past the buzzard to the jet trail far above, and thought of the faceless people in that plane. They didn’t know it, but at this very moment, they were flying over heaven.

“Judd, would you hand me that small rake, please?”

He grabbed at the rake with a guilty conscience. Could she tell he’d been thinking about her? Would it show on his face?

“Thanks,” she said, and began pulling it through the dirt, loosening the soil around the roots of some bushes.

“I would have been happy to do that for you,” Judd said.

Charlie paused, giving him more than a casual glance. His shoulders were straining at the shirt he was wearing, and from where she was sitting, the muscles in his legs weren’t too shabby, either. She wondered if he was a fitness freak, and then discarded the thought. It shouldn’t matter to her what he was.

“Do you know the difference between marigolds and weeds?” she asked.

He hesitated and then grinned. “No.”

“Then if you don’t mind, I’ll do it myself.”

Judd laughed. “You don’t trust men much, do you?”

She never looked up. “I haven’t had much reason.”

Judd’s smile faded. He glanced at Rachel, watching the way her baby curls bounced as she toddled from place to place, and he thought of the fool who’d denied her.

“No, I guess you haven’t at that,” he said softly, watching as Rachel came toward them, still carrying her shovel but leaving her little bucket behind.

“Mommy, I sirsty.”

“Just a minute, sweetie,” Charlie said. “Let Mommy get up and I’ll get you a drink.”

Judd put his hand on her shoulder. “I would be happy to take her for you.”

Charlie hesitated, then smiled. “Thanks, but I’d better do it. She probably needs to go to the bathroom, too.”

Judd started to argue, then thought better of it. He couldn’t blame her. If it was his daughter, he wouldn’t want a strange man taking her to the bathroom, either.

He nodded, then slid his hands beneath her armpits and pulled Charlie to her feet. For a second, they were face-to-face, gazes locked.

Then something happened.

Charlie would think later that it was a recognition of souls, while Judd would not remember the thought in his mind, only the yearning to kiss her.

He moved.

She lifted her face and held her breath.

“Mommy…”

Rachel’s plea yanked them back to reality, a vivid reminder that they were not alone. Desperate to put something between them, Judd picked the child up, then slid his free arm around Charlie’s waist and helped her into the house. Oddly enough, she leaned on his strength without fuss, taking his help as it was meant to be given. When they were inside, he set Rachel down in the hall outside the bathroom door. Charlie moved past him without comment. Judd watched the door closing between them while thinking he should have gone into town with Wade, after all. Staying alone in this house with Charlotte Franklin hadn’t been a good idea. He already admired her. He didn’t want to like her—at least, not so much that it would matter when it was time to leave.

Raymond Shuler came to in the dark and thought at first he’d gone blind. Then he felt the blindfold on his eyes and fought an urge to throw up. A whimper of protest came up his throat, but never got past the gag in his mouth. The ropes around his wrists and ankles were rough and binding, but those were the least of his worries. He’d been kidnapped. He was going to die.

Time passed. His mind was clearing as he recognized a current of air moving across his skin. A few seconds later it hit him. My God, he was naked!

Fear sliced through him, leaving him sick to his stomach as he struggled to pull free. The smell of dust was thick in the air and his throat felt dry, his lips cracked and burning.

Something rattled—then rattled again. At the sound of footsteps, he stilled. Was this it? Was this the moment he was going to die? He thought of his wife, of his family, of the debts that he owed and the secrets he’d kept and wondered how the world could go on without him. A low whimper slid up his throat, hanging just behind the gag stuffed in his mouth.

Hands yanked him roughly, rolling him from his back to his belly. He started to cry, mutely begging for a mercy that never came. Suddenly, something hot was thrust against his hip and the scent of burning flesh was in the air. Shocked by the unexpected stab of piercing pain, he arched up off the floor and then blessedly passed out before it was over. He never knew when the syringe full of antibiotic went into his arm, or when the sound of footsteps receded. It would be another day before he awoke, and by that time, the deed—and the damage—had been done.

“So, what do you know about the missing banker that you didn’t know this morning?” Judd asked as he cleared the table from the supper they’d just had.

Oblivious to the seriousness of the conversation going on around her, Rachel crawled up on her uncle Wade’s lap and began unbuttoning his shirt—a new and favorite pastime.

Wade looked down at his niece and grinned as her tiny fingers worked the buttons out of the holes.

“Not much,” he said. “Only that it looks like a real abduction, but there’s been no demand for ransom.”

“Does he have money?” Judd asked.

Charlie snorted lightly. “He’s got plenty of ours,” she muttered.

Wade patted Charlie on the hand, then looked at Judd. “Sometimes it’s hard to meet the mortgage payments and Shuler isn’t exactly a ‘good old boy’ when it comes to extensions.” Then he answered Judd’s question. “Yeah, he’s got money. Inherited it from his old man.”

Judd frowned. “Maybe you’re not the only people who don’t like the way he does business. Would you say he has enemies?”

Charlie’s snort was a little more pronounced. “It would be easier to count his friends. There’re fewer of them.”

Judd grinned at her. Damned if he didn’t like her spunk. “That bad, is he?”

She grimaced, then looked at Wade and sighed. “Am I being dramatic again?”

“Yes, honey, but that’s part of why I love you.”

She grinned. “And the other part is?”

He looked down at the imp in his lap. His chest was bare clear down to his belt. When she started twisting the hair on his chest around her little fingers and pulling, he yelped, then handed her to Charlie.

“I suppose that would be Miss Rachel here, although I must be a masochist for thinking it. Every night I suffer the tortures of the damned with those tiny fingers.” He looked at Judd and grinned. “With Rachel, who needs a razor?”

“Or a handkerchief,” Judd added.

Charlie thought of the way Judd had been awakened this morning and started to laugh.

“What did I miss?” Wade asked.

“While you were in the shower this morning, Judd had a rather rude awakening.”

Wade started to grin. “Not the finger-up-the-nose trick?”

Judd chuckled. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “But it was the exploratory twist before she pulled it out that got my full attention.”

Wade chuckled as Charlie squeezed Rachel close in her arms, burying her nose against the little girl’s neck.

“You’re such a mess, baby girl. What is Mama going to do with you?”

Judd leaned over and patted the tousle of curls on Rachel’s head. They felt like loops of silk against his palm.

“Just love her,” he said softly. “These days, the age of innocence is far too short.”

Wade’s smile slipped. “Amen to that,” he said, and then out of curiosity, decided to change the subject. “So, you know how my day went. What did you two do?”

“Not much,” Charlie said, and began fussing with the ties on Rachel’s tennis shoe.

“She did a little gardening,” Judd added, and stacked the rest of the plates in the sink.

The stilted tones of their voices set Wade on alert. For a moment he sat, staring at them in disbelief. Charlie was tying Rachel’s laces in knots and Judd began splashing water far too forcefully for the small stack of dishes that had to be washed. Concern crept into his thoughts. Despite the fact that the man was a cop and had saved Rachel’s life, he was still a stranger. Had he done something to Charlie while he was gone?

The chair squeaked across the linoleum as he suddenly stood.

“That’s the biggest bunch of nothing I ever heard and I’ve heard a lot. What went on out here that no one wants to discuss?”

Charlie stood, meeting her brother’s angry gaze. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Wade, do you honestly think that if Judd had been less than a gentleman, he would be standing in my kitchen in one piece? I thought you knew me better than that.”

Judd was almost as angry, but at himself for getting into this position.

“Look, you two. Just give me a ride into town and I’ll be out of your lives for good.”

Panic hit Charlie hard as she turned toward him, and in that moment, she accepted the fact that she didn’t want him to go. But before she could speak, Wade shrugged and grinned.

“Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I guess it’s my suspicious nature. I’ve been a cop too long.” Then he added. “Besides, you can’t go. You promised to help me with the Shuler case.”

Judd nodded without comment. The way he figured, the less said, the better. Technically, Charlie was right. Nothing had happened. But they both knew it could have, and that was where the guilt began.

Morning of the next day dawned gray and overcast. Charlie slipped out of bed, gingerly testing her weight on her ankle. It was markedly better, which was, to her, a relief. Having Judd Hanna for a houseguest was difficult enough when Wade was around to play buffer, but being alone with him had been worse. There was something about him that she couldn’t let go. At first, she thought it was gratitude for the fact that he’d saved their lives. But that theory hadn’t lasted past the first time she’d thought about kissing him. She’d been grateful to a lot of people in her lifetime, but she hadn’t once wanted to kiss them the way she’d wanted to kiss Judd Hanna.

All night she’d struggled with her conscience. Sometime around morning, she had decided that she didn’t want to be thinking of a man. The last time she’d let her guard down with one, she’d wound up with a baby and no husband. That wasn’t happening to her again.

She dressed quietly, hoping to get into the kitchen and start breakfast before Rachel woke up. Considering the weather, she opted for a pair of blue jeans rather than shorts, and tucked her T-shirt into the waistband before giving herself a last look in the mirror. Her hair was neatly braided, her clothes were old but clean. She’d even managed to get an old sandal onto her swollen foot without too much discomfort. But as she exited her bedroom, she kept feeling as if she was leaving something undone. And then Judd walked out of his room and for a startled moment, they were alone in the hallway.

Judd started to speak, when Charlie put a finger to her lips and shushed him before leading him into the kitchen.

“Rachel,” she explained, pointing back down the hall. “She’s a light sleeper.”

He nodded, but his thoughts were on the uneven row of tiny curls already popping out from her neat hairdo and feathering across her forehead.

Charlie reached for the coffeepot and began filling it with water. He was making her nervous.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Yes.”

The silence between them was noticeable.

“How’s your foot?” Judd finally asked.

She turned, a fake smile on her face. “Better, thanks.”

Now the lull in the conversation was uncomfortable.

Finally, they both turned to speak at once, then laughed uncomfortably.

“You first,” Charlie said.

Judd shook his head. “No, ma’am. Ladies first.”

She set a skillet on the stove, then took a bowl of eggs from the refrigerator.

“Scrambled okay with you?”

He grinned wryly. “It pretty much fits the description of my brain, so I guess that sounds about right.”

Charlie stopped. This wasn’t the first time he’d made light of his exodus from his job. She suspected he wasn’t really as carefree about it as he claimed.

She set the eggs down. “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged. “Have at it.”

“What happened to you?”

His smile faded. “Hell if I know,” he said, and turned away.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said. “It’s really none of my business.”

Judd sighed and made himself face her again. “My partner died on the eve of his retirement. He took a bullet meant for me and I can’t get the memory of his wife’s face out of my head.”

“Oh, Judd…”

He grimaced. “That’s exactly what she said when I told her Dan was dead.”

“Being a cop is a dangerous occupation,” she said. “He knew the risks. So did his wife.”

Judd digested her answer. Logically, he knew she was right, but logic and emotions rarely went hand in hand.

“Charlotte?”

Charlie looked up. Rarely did anyone call her by her full name, but hearing the syllables roll softly out of Judd’s mouth gave her shivers.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

She hesitated, then managed a smile and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

“Did you love Rachel’s father?”

Her smile twisted bitterly. “Once, when I was still naive enough to believe people meant what they said.”

Judd flinched. He understood her anger, but was surprised by the answering chord he felt within himself. He knew firsthand the pain of abandonment and lies. Impulsively, he touched the side of her face.

“I’m sorry.”

Charlie froze, telling herself to ignore the warmth of his palm against her cheek and the tenderness in his voice.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she said shortly, and turned away before she made a fool of herself.

Judd sighed. He felt sad, frustrated, even though he understood her unwillingness to compromise. She’d done it once and look what had happened.

And then the sound of little footsteps pattering down the hall broke the mood. Moments later, Rachel came into the kitchen, her blanket bunched under her arm like a sack and her thumb in her mouth. Her curls were in tangles and, once again, she was missing a sock. She was so endearing, he reached down and picked her up. Without thinking, he nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck, inhaling the sweet baby scent, and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, punkin. What’s that you have in your mouth?”

Then he teased at her thumb, tugging gently without intending to remove it from her mouth. The unexpected game brought a giggle out of Rachel that warmed Judd’s heart.

Charlie was mesmerized by what she was seeing. The trust her daughter had just given to Judd was surprising, as was the lump in Charlie’s throat. All she could think was, so this was what their lives would have been like if Pete Tucker had been a different man. Rachel would have had a father and she would have had a—

She inhaled sharply and reached for the eggs, angrily breaking them one by one into a bowl. Stop it, she warned herself. Stop it right now. Fantasizing was one thing, but letting it go too far could be dangerous.

Wade came in on Rachel’s heels, and soon the kitchen was full of noise and laughter and Rachel begging for something to eat. And in the midst of it all, Judd sat, quietly watching and absorbing the love that bound them. Wade left soon afterward in his patrol car, leaving Judd to ride into town later with Charlie. The day was already full of things to be done. Charlie had shopping to do. Rachel had a checkup at the doctor’s. Wade had a missing man to find, and Judd needed to see a man about fixing his Jeep. Ordinary things on an ordinary day. But why, Judd wondered, if it was so ordinary, did he feel as if he was on the brink of discovery?

Waves of pain rolled across Raymond Shuler’s leg and up the muscles in his back. He’d lost track of time. Living behind the blindfold and gag was disorienting. Day turned to night, then back to day again. Every time he began to come to, someone poked a needle in his butt and sent him back to La La Land, which was fine with him. Lack of consciousness made his situation more bearable. He knew little more than he had when he’d first been taken, other than the fact that he was still naked, and whatever they’d done to his hip was probably infected. The heat from the wound permeated his entire body, often racking him with fever and chills. The mattress on which he was lying belly-down smelled like chicken feathers and dust. If he hadn’t been so sick, he would have been starving. Except for water, not a morsel of sustenance had passed his lips since this nightmare began. Every now and then when lucidity came, he would try to figure out who could have possibly done this to him.

In his business, he made enemies, but it went with the territory of being a banker. However, as hard as he had tried, he couldn’t think of one single man he’d pissed off who had enough guts to carry this through. So where did that leave him? Tied up and hurting in some godforsaken place, that’s where. All he could do was pray that, one way or another, it would soon be over.

Judd exited the body shop, satisfied that his vehicle was in good hands. Now all he had to do was exhibit some patience. It would take a week, maybe longer, for the parts to come in, and then time after that for Harold to repair the damage. Ordinarily, such a delay would have been frustrating, but for some reason, he felt as if he’d been given a reprieve. At least he had a valid excuse for staying on in Call City, instead of passing through as he’d planned.

He glanced up at the sky, gauging the building cloud bank against a possible threat of rain, and then looked around for Charlie’s car. When he’d seen her last, she’d been going into the doctor’s office with Rachel. Sure enough, the car was still in the parking lot. He paused, debating with himself about checking in on her first or going on to the police station. Truth be told, his curiosity over the missing banker was starting to grow. But he thought of Charlie, trying to cope with a wiggly baby and a sore ankle, and opted for the doctor’s office first.

The street was nearly deserted. A couple of cars were parked two blocks down on his left and there was another in the parking lot beside Charlie’s car. An old red hound ambled out of an alley and started across the street, sniffing along the pavement as it went. Several blocks away, a hulking figure of a man was coming up the street toward him, pulling a child’s red wagon as he went. Every now and then he would stop and dig through the trash cans at the edge of the curbs, obviously searching for recyclable cans.

Judd grinned to himself. This was a far cry from the big-city atmosphere of Tulsa. He stood for a while, watching the fervor with which the man searched. It was only after he’d come a bit closer that Judd realized the man was quite young, and obviously slow, both in mind and body. The childlike expressions that crossed the man’s face were quite touching, and his heart went out to the man-child who would never grow up.