A Place To Call Home
“Rachel, give Mommy the shirt,” Charlie said.
Rachel picked the red T-shirt from the pile and gave it to Charlie. The smile on her face was so precious that Charlie dropped the clothes she was carrying and picked her daughter up instead, nuzzling her nose against the baby-soft skin beneath Rachel’s ear.
Rachel cackled and squealed with delight, then threw her arms around Charlie’s neck.
“My mommy,” Rachel said, and squeezed as tight as she could.
Charlie returned the hug. “My Rachel,” she said, her throat tight with emotion.
The child was her life. The only good thing to come from loving Pete Tucker, their neighbor’s son. He’d played loose with Charlie’s feelings, then skipped out on her when she was two months pregnant to chase his dreams on the rodeo circuit. A month before Rachel was born, he’d crawled on a bull that, in a matter of seconds, had put an end to Pete Tucker’s dreams.
Charlie had grieved, but only for the loss of Rachel’s father. Charlie’s love for Pete Tucker had died the day he left her to bear the burden of their affair all alone.
“Want down,” Rachel muttered.
Charlie sighed as she put her baby back on her feet. Her daughter’s independence was inevitable, but she couldn’t help the spear of regret. She tousled Rachel’s curls.
“You go play in your room, baby girl. Mommy is going to put these clothes in the washer. Get them all clean for Uncle Wade.”
“Unca Wade?”
“Yes, these are for Uncle Wade.”
Rachel toddled off, satisfied with her mother’s explanation. Next to her mother, Wade Franklin was her favorite person.
Charlie picked up the pile of clothes, careful not to include the red shirt, and headed for the utility room off the kitchen. A couple of minutes later it dawned on her that the house was entirely too quiet and she started back through the rooms in search of Rachel.
“Rachel, where are you?” Charlie called.
She got no answer.
“Rachel, answer Mommy, where are you?”
This time the silence hit hard. Trying not to panic, she retraced her steps, searching in all of Rachel’s nooks and crannies, certain she would find her in one of her favorite places.
It wasn’t until she’d made the second trip through the house that she noticed the screen door in the living room was slightly ajar. She dashed out on the porch, telling herself to stay calm.
“Rachel, where are you?”
The silence that came afterward was unnerving. She wasted another precious minute running around the house and calling Rachel’s name, certain she’d find her playing in the sandbox under the trees in the backyard. But she wasn’t there, either.
Now she was beginning to panic. It wasn’t until she turned around that she noticed Everett Tucker’s black bull was in their pasture again. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, and her brother, Wade, had warned Everett more than once to fix his fence. She stood for a moment, staring at the bull’s curious stance. His head was up, his body almost motionless in the way animals are when they sense something trespassing on their territory. And then it hit her.
“Oh, God…oh, no,” Charlie moaned, and started to run, just as the bull began to charge.
She ran without focus, searching the pasture with a frantic gaze, all the while praying against hope that she was wrong. Then she saw Rachel, toddling through the grass with a handful of flowers. She bolted across the cattle guard, running as she’d never run before, and screaming aloud Rachel’s name.
She didn’t feel the heat of the sun upon her face. She didn’t even hear the sound of her own screams. All she could do was focus on Rachel’s curly head and remember how soft her baby’s curls were against her face, and how sweet they smelled after a shampoo.
The bull’s angry bellow shattered the air and Charlie screamed again, trying to divert his attention. It didn’t happen, and it occurred to her then that she would watch her daughter die. As fast as she was running, the bull was still gaining on Rachel, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Then out of nowhere, a black Jeep suddenly appeared in the pasture, flying across the ground at breakneck speed. Before she could absorb the implications, she stumbled and fell. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her face. Dirt was in her eyes, and her leg was afire with an unbearable pain. And yet as quickly as she fell, she was struggling to her feet and rubbing at her eyes, desperate to see. Had Rachel died while she was facedown in the dirt?
Through a blur of tears, she looked up to see the Jeep come to a sudden halt only a foot or so from where Rachel was standing. The door opened. She saw a man lean out and yank Rachel inside only seconds before bull and Jeep collided. The heavy thud of bending metal was like music to her ears. She dropped her head and took deep, calming breaths. Nothing mattered any longer. Rachel was safe.
Judd was numb. The rush of adrenaline that had gotten him this far was receding as swiftly as it had come, leaving him weak and shaken. The baby in his arms looked as startled as he’d been moments earlier 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 glanced down at her daughter, who was pulling the petals from a flower, and her expression crumpled.
“Life wouldn’t have been worth living without her.”
Breath caught in the back of Judd’s throat. Logically, he accepted the fact that there were people who would willingly die for another, but Charlotte Franklin’s willingness to put herself in harm’s way for her child was the first example of that selfless dedication he’d ever seen. He supposed that his mother might once have loved him like that, but he didn’t remember it. He glanced back at Rachel, who was still sitting on the steps.
“Yeah. I can only imagine,” he said softly. Then he raised his voice a notch. “Come on, little girl, it’s time to go inside.”
To Charlie’s surprise, Rachel minded the stranger and followed them in. As soon as Judd put her down, Rachel crawled up in Charlie’s lap and laid her head on her mother’s breast.
“Is she okay?” Judd asked.
Charlie nodded. “Just a little confused, I think. She’ll be all right.” Then she pointed toward the phone. “There’s a phone book in the drawer underneath.”
Judd shook his head. “You come first. If you don’t mind me prowling a bit, I want to put some ice on your ankle.”
“The kitchen is that way,” Charlie said. “There are some plastic bags in the drawer beside the sink and there’s an ice maker in the top of the fridge.”
Judd headed for the kitchen, returning shortly with a bag full of ice wrapped in a towel. Charlie winced when he laid it on her ankle.
“Sorry,” Judd said. “Does your husband work nearby?”
The tone of Charlie’s voice never wavered. “I don’t have a husband.”
Judd glanced at Rachel, then at Charlie, then fussed with the bag of ice just for something to do.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. It’s just that you can’t be here by yourself. Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Charlie sighed. The man was getting the wrong impression, and while it really didn’t matter what he thought, she felt obligated to explain.
“I am not a widow. To the contrary, I have never been married. And yes, there is someone—my brother, Wade. If you don’t mind handing me the phone, I’ll give him a call.”
Judd turned, then stopped and stared. “There’s a police car coming down your driveway.”
A wave of emotion suddenly washed over Charlie. Wade was hardly ever home on time. Thank God this was one of those rare days. To her surprise, she felt tears threatening again.
She took a deep breath, trying to still the tremble in her voice. “That would be Wade. He’s the police chief in Call City.”
Judd stiffened, then made himself relax, accepting the irony of the situation. He’d driven halfway across the country to get away from law enforcement, and the first time he lingered long enough to exchange names, they were tied to the same damned branch of government.
A few moments later, the officer who’d been driving the car came through the door, his eyes wide with concern. Judd braced himself for the confrontation.
Wade had been looking forward to an easy evening until he’d seen the destruction to the pasture fence. His mood had taken a quick swing downward and was far from level when he came through the door. Seeing Charlie’s tears and the stranger standing next to her, his hand automatically slid to the butt of his gun.
“Charlie…honey…what the hell happened?”
“It’s okay,” Charlie said, and then started to cry in earnest.
Judd sighed. She’d been bordering on hysteria ever since he’d pulled her out of the dirt. It was inevitable that she would finally break down. What surprised him was the urge he had to comfort her.
Wade moved toward Charlie, but his attention was completely focused on the man standing next to her.
“Easy, buddy,” Judd said, “I’m the good guy here.” Then he offered his hand. “My name is Judd Hanna.”
Wade nodded, but reserved the right to the handshake until after he knew some more facts. Judd shrugged. He couldn’t really blame him.
“What the hell happened to the fence?” Wade said, looking straight at Judd. “Did it run into your car?”
Judd laughed out loud. Even Charlie managed to chuckle through tears. Rachel giggled, too, although the joke was over her head, and then she pointed out the door.
“Big bull.”
Wade frowned. “What bull, honey?”
Charlie choked on a sob. “Oh, Wade. Tucker’s bull…it was in our pasture again. I couldn’t find Rachel, and then I saw her…and the bull was charging…but I couldn’t outrun…if it hadn’t been for…he drove through the fence and…I fell and it was…oh, God, Wade, the bull would have killed her.”
She shuddered, then buried her face against the back of Rachel’s neck.
All the color faded from Wade Franklin’s face. He looked at Judd, and this time, he was the one who offered his hand.
“Mister, I suppose we’ll sort out the details later, but if I’m understanding the situation here, you just saved their lives, and if that’s so, then there aren’t enough words to thank you.”
Judd shrugged, a little embarrassed at being the sudden focus of attention. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
Too overcome to speak, Wade impulsively hugged him. Judd was still reeling from the impact of being royally thumped on the back when Wade let him go and shifted his focus to Charlie.
He squatted down beside her and lifted the ice from her foot. “I think you need to see a doctor,” he said, then took out his handkerchief and wiped at the tears and dirt on her face as if she was a child.
Charlie caught his hand. “No, it’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine.”
Judd’s heart twisted again. The closeness between brother and sister only served as a reminder of what was missing in his life.
“About that phone call,” Judd said. “If you’d recommend a towing service and a motel, I’ll be out of your hair.”
Wade rocked back on his heels. “There aren’t any motels in Call City, and the only tow truck is out on a call. I know because I sent him.”
Then he glanced at Charlie. She nodded. They had no options but to offer their home to the man. After all he’d done, it was the least they could do.
“Charlie and I would consider it an honor to put you up for the night.”
Judd shook his head. “That’s not necessary. I’ve slept in my car plenty of times. It won’t hurt me to do it again.”
“No,” Charlie said. “You’ll stay in the house, with us.”
He took a deep breath and looked down. Even with the dirt on her face, Charlotte Franklin was a good-looking woman, but it was the expression in her eyes that swayed him. She needed to make reparation. Whether he wanted to or not, he felt obligated to accept her hospitality.
“Then I thank you,” he said. “And just to make sure you folks don’t feel the need to sleep with a gun under your pillow, would it make you feel better to know I’m a cop?”
Wade’s smile was one of relief as he stood abruptly. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
“Probably because I’m AWOL from my precinct,” Judd said. “And, before you assume the worst, I’m not in trouble, I just got fed up.”
Wade’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that can happen.”
Judd handed Wade a card with the phone number on it.
“Call the Tulsa, Oklahoma, P.D. Ask for Captain Roger Shaw. He’ll vouch for my honesty, if not my sanity.”
Charlie flinched, then held her baby closer, suddenly unsure of having this stranger in their house all night. Judd caught the look.
“Ma’am.”
She looked up.
“I swear to you that the only person I’m capable of hurting is myself.”
Charlie stared intently. She had no reason to trust his word, other than the fact that he’d saved their lives. It would have to be enough. Finally, she nodded and managed a smile.
“Then that’s that,” Wade said. “And before you call a mechanic, I need to use the phone. I’ve got to talk to a man about a bull.”
Wade stalked to the phone and punched in some numbers before taking the portable with him as he strode out to the porch.
Charlie combed a shaky hand through her hair as Rachel wiggled to be put down. Through the open doorway, bits and pieces of Wade Franklin’s conversation could be heard.
“Don’t give a good damn about why…nearly killed…going to be hamburger if you don’t get the son of a…”
Charlie looked at Judd and then sighed. “Wade has a bad temper.”
Judd shrugged. “I don’t blame him. If it had been me, I would have probably shot the son of a bitch and worried about the complications later.”
Startled by his matter-of-fact tone, Charlie could think of nothing to say. When Judd turned away, she found herself watching his every move.
“Potty,” Rachel suddenly announced.
Charlie groaned. With her bad ankle, she’d never make it to the bathroom with Rachel in time.
“Wade! Come quick.”
Her call brought her brother running.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Rachel needs to go to the bathroom.”
Wade laughed and tossed the cell phone on the cushion beside Charlie as he picked up his little niece.
“Come on, shortcake, let’s hurry.”
Rachel giggled. “Hurry, hurry,” she repeated.
Charlie rolled her eyes and then glanced at Judd. He was grinning.
“Potty training,” she explained. “There’s never much time between her and disaster.”
His grin widened.
“As soon as Wade comes back, he’ll show you where you can sleep. After I wash some of this dirt off myself, I’ll see to fixing supper.”
“No, ma’am,” Judd said. “We’ll cook. You just sit there and look pretty. It’ll make us all feel better.”
Charlie blushed. Moments later, Wade was back. He helped her to her feet and then down the hall to the bathroom, leaving Rachel and Judd alone.
Judd squatted until he was eye to eye with the little girl, and then reached out and pulled a flower petal from the side of her face.
“These any good?” he asked, and licked it.
She giggled and ducked her head.
As she smiled, the knot in Judd’s belly shifted slightly. Maybe this detour wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
Within the hour, Judd realized how unimportant haste was in Call City. It would be morning before the mechanic would come get his car. Even if he’d been willing to pay the extra money to have it hauled in tonight, it would solve nothing. The garage wouldn’t be open until 7:00 a.m., so there was no need to hurry just to have it parked.
Resigned to his fate, he’d taken his suitcase out of the Jeep and headed for the room he’d been given. It was small but clean, and the furniture was sturdy. The fact that he’d have to share a bathroom with a baby and two other people seemed a small price to pay for the comfort of a home-cooked meal and a place to wash some clothes.
A short while later, Judd saw a pickup truck coming down the driveway and pulling a trailer. The owner of the runaway bull, he assumed. He watched from the window as Wade met the man in the drive. Again, harsh words were traded, and while he was debating with himself about getting involved before someone threw the first punch, he overheard something that stunned him. The man called Tucker wasn’t only the owner of the bull, he was Rachel Franklin’s grandfather, as well. What made no sense was that he was so belligerent about the fact.
“He’s not a happy man,” Charlie said, pointing toward the man in the truck.
Startled, Judd turned. “Who, Wade?”
“No, Everett Tucker.”