A Place To Call Home. Sharon Sala
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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.
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