Read Online Restore My Heart by Cheryl Norman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cheryl Norman
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signs of Sally. Then he saw her.
Sally waited at the corner to cross Watterson Trail, headed in the direction of the convenience store. Slamming the car door, Joe jogged to catch her. Before he could reach her, the signal changed to WALK. Sally started into the street in her careful, slow gait, her head lowered against the rain.
She couldn’t see the pick-up truck speeding toward the intersection.
Chapter
FIVE
The pelting rain and passing cars drowned out Sally’s heavy breathing as she concentrated on her leg muscles. Thanks to her grueling strength training, her leg grew stronger each week. When rested, Sally could walk at an almost normal pace now. With renewed determination, she indulged in a smug grin as she waited. The Walk light flashed. Checking first left, then right, she moved into the intersection.
The next instant, two strong arms ensnared her, dragging her from the road. What in the world— ? Her heart in her throat, she fought to free herself. She tumbled into the wet grass, pinned down by her brutal assailant. Mugged in J-town? She struggled again to dislodge the attacker, but managed only to dig herself into the gritty mud. Anger replaced fear. She growled at the man, ready for battle, when he suddenly released her.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m not all right, you insane terrorist—”
The woodsy cologne and baritone voice penetrated her scrambled senses. Her heart thudded a frantic tempo against her rib cage. “Joe?”
He’d pulled her to her feet. “I’m sorry I tackled you like that, but it happened so fast—”
“What
happened so fast?” She wiped mud from her chin. “Just what are you doing here, anyway?”
Joe nudged her toward the convenience store. “Could we get out of the rain?”
Sally was in no hurry to escape the shower. It rinsed the mud from her clothes and cooled her flushed skin. She warmed from his closeness, although the adrenaline rush from her pseudo-mugging hadn’t helped.
They stopped beneath the overhang at the store’s entrance. Joe kept his voice low. “A pickup truck almost ran you down. He ran the light.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “What? I didn’t see—”
“I know.” He nodded toward Watterson Trail. The tightening around his mouth, his rigid jaw sent shivers of alarm up her spine. “I think it was deliberate.”
“Running the light?”
“Hitting you. The fire, and now this.” His sable eyes bore into her. “Someone means you harm.”
She chewed at her lower lip, unable to deny his logic.
“Look, Sally. Get whatever you came for and let’s get back so we can report this.”
“Report what?” she muttered under her breath. Just because a truck ran a red light didn’t make it attempted murder. Either way, though, she’d be just as dead.
Dead?
She swallowed against the terrible realization.
Pushing through the door with Joe on her heels, she tried to shake the frightening coincidence of being a victim of both an arsonist and hit-and-run driver. She’d never trusted coincidence before. Her trembling fingers dug through her fanny pack for change. After she paid for her carton of milk, she remembered Joe hadn’t answered her original question.
Just what are you doing here, anyway?
“Good thing it’s not a hard rain.” Back at Mustang Sally’s, Joe dried off with paper towels. “Do you want to call the police or shall I?”
Sally’s casual shrug failed to hide her anxiety. “You can. You’re the eye witness.”
Joe nodded. “Okay, I’ll call.”
“And tell them what? That a pickup truck tried to run me down? What make, model, color pickup, Joe? Can you give a description of the driver?”
Straddling one of the work stools, she offered to share the pint of milk with him. He needed a stronger drink than milk, something to dull the tension coiled inside his chest.
“You’re right. We have nothing to give them. But I’ll report it.” He studied her face, where a raspberry-colored bruise marked
Sally waited at the corner to cross Watterson Trail, headed in the direction of the convenience store. Slamming the car door, Joe jogged to catch her. Before he could reach her, the signal changed to WALK. Sally started into the street in her careful, slow gait, her head lowered against the rain.
She couldn’t see the pick-up truck speeding toward the intersection.
Chapter
FIVE
The pelting rain and passing cars drowned out Sally’s heavy breathing as she concentrated on her leg muscles. Thanks to her grueling strength training, her leg grew stronger each week. When rested, Sally could walk at an almost normal pace now. With renewed determination, she indulged in a smug grin as she waited. The Walk light flashed. Checking first left, then right, she moved into the intersection.
The next instant, two strong arms ensnared her, dragging her from the road. What in the world— ? Her heart in her throat, she fought to free herself. She tumbled into the wet grass, pinned down by her brutal assailant. Mugged in J-town? She struggled again to dislodge the attacker, but managed only to dig herself into the gritty mud. Anger replaced fear. She growled at the man, ready for battle, when he suddenly released her.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m not all right, you insane terrorist—”
The woodsy cologne and baritone voice penetrated her scrambled senses. Her heart thudded a frantic tempo against her rib cage. “Joe?”
He’d pulled her to her feet. “I’m sorry I tackled you like that, but it happened so fast—”
“What
happened so fast?” She wiped mud from her chin. “Just what are you doing here, anyway?”
Joe nudged her toward the convenience store. “Could we get out of the rain?”
Sally was in no hurry to escape the shower. It rinsed the mud from her clothes and cooled her flushed skin. She warmed from his closeness, although the adrenaline rush from her pseudo-mugging hadn’t helped.
They stopped beneath the overhang at the store’s entrance. Joe kept his voice low. “A pickup truck almost ran you down. He ran the light.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “What? I didn’t see—”
“I know.” He nodded toward Watterson Trail. The tightening around his mouth, his rigid jaw sent shivers of alarm up her spine. “I think it was deliberate.”
“Running the light?”
“Hitting you. The fire, and now this.” His sable eyes bore into her. “Someone means you harm.”
She chewed at her lower lip, unable to deny his logic.
“Look, Sally. Get whatever you came for and let’s get back so we can report this.”
“Report what?” she muttered under her breath. Just because a truck ran a red light didn’t make it attempted murder. Either way, though, she’d be just as dead.
Dead?
She swallowed against the terrible realization.
Pushing through the door with Joe on her heels, she tried to shake the frightening coincidence of being a victim of both an arsonist and hit-and-run driver. She’d never trusted coincidence before. Her trembling fingers dug through her fanny pack for change. After she paid for her carton of milk, she remembered Joe hadn’t answered her original question.
Just what are you doing here, anyway?
“Good thing it’s not a hard rain.” Back at Mustang Sally’s, Joe dried off with paper towels. “Do you want to call the police or shall I?”
Sally’s casual shrug failed to hide her anxiety. “You can. You’re the eye witness.”
Joe nodded. “Okay, I’ll call.”
“And tell them what? That a pickup truck tried to run me down? What make, model, color pickup, Joe? Can you give a description of the driver?”
Straddling one of the work stools, she offered to share the pint of milk with him. He needed a stronger drink than milk, something to dull the tension coiled inside his chest.
“You’re right. We have nothing to give them. But I’ll report it.” He studied her face, where a raspberry-colored bruise marked
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