Jace
Brandon heard a truck backfire as it rambled by. He punched his pillow and tried to go back to sleep, but it was
too hot. “Why did people have to come
back here on his property to park and make out, or pass out drunk in their
cars? He was going to have to do something
about that, starting tomorrow. He was
damned tired of it. There was a million
other places they could go.
He
slipped out of bed, wiping the sweat off his chest, and padded barefoot out to
the front porch. At least it was cooler
out here. Maybe he’d just grab a
blanket and bed down out here, he thought, when he heard a soft moan. He shook his head. If he had a couple kids out in his field making out, he was going
to rope and tie them to their car!
He
strode back inside, grabbed his flashlight, and went back out the door. He swept the light around, but didn’t see
any vehicle. Maybe it was just the
wind, he thought, turning to go back inside when he heard it again. He jumped off the porch, and walked down the
road, shinning the light on each side. Someone was out here and he was determined to find him or her.
He
hopped on one foot when he stepped on a sharp rock. Besides being hot and miserable, it was only two in the morning
and he’d had a busy day bailing the hay he’d cut the day before. He wanted to get it done before it rained,
and now he wished it would. Maybe it
would cool off this blasted heat wave they’d been stuck in for more than a
month.
Jace
heard the moan again and shone his light to the right. A woman’s body lay on the side of the
road. He ran over and knelt down next
to her, shinning his light in her face. “Good Lord,” he whispered, seeing the bruises on her face, the bloody
lip, and the dried blood under her nose. “Miss?” he asked, shinning his light down her body. Her white blouse was torn, her jeans dirty,
and her feet were bare.
“Oh
my God,” he said, laying the light down to shine on her. He ran his fingers
over her head and found a lump on the back. He quickly checked her for broken ribs and bones, but felt sure none
were broken.
Jace
shook his head. There was only one
thing for him to do and that was to pick her up and take her back to his
place. He didn’t use a cell phone,
didn’t have a landline, and lived on his place by his own standards.
He
stood up, placed his hands under her and lifted her up as he rose to his
feet. She weighed next to nothing. So fragile, he thought, and it made him mad
that someone had beaten her up. His
mother had always taught him that if you had to hit a woman, then you weren’t
much of a man.
In
minutes he had her back to his place. He laid her on his bed, and put water on to heat. She needed those cuts tended to. He probably should take her to the hospital,
but he’d see what she wanted to do when she came to.
When
the water was hot, he filled his Ma’s spit bath pan that had been her
grandma’s, grabbed a washcloth, and walked over to kneel beside the bed. He quickly cleaned her up, applied some
antiseptic to her cuts and pulled the quilt over her. She was shivering and he was sure it was from shock and the
ordeal she’d been though.
Feeling
he’d done all he could for now, he went to the kitchen and heated up a can of
soup, sliced a piece of corn bread and put butter on it. As he ate, he kept glancing across the room
to where she lay, hoping she would awaken soon, so he could see what she wanted
him to do.
He
also wondered what she would think of his place. It was a sturdy cabin, he’d built himself, but with no
frills. It was all one room. There was the kitchen, a living area, with a
huge stone fireplace, and then the bed against the outer wall. His dresser sat below the bed
Brandon heard a truck backfire as it rambled by. He punched his pillow and tried to go back to sleep, but it was
too hot. “Why did people have to come
back here on his property to park and make out, or pass out drunk in their
cars? He was going to have to do something
about that, starting tomorrow. He was
damned tired of it. There was a million
other places they could go.
He
slipped out of bed, wiping the sweat off his chest, and padded barefoot out to
the front porch. At least it was cooler
out here. Maybe he’d just grab a
blanket and bed down out here, he thought, when he heard a soft moan. He shook his head. If he had a couple kids out in his field making out, he was going
to rope and tie them to their car!
He
strode back inside, grabbed his flashlight, and went back out the door. He swept the light around, but didn’t see
any vehicle. Maybe it was just the
wind, he thought, turning to go back inside when he heard it again. He jumped off the porch, and walked down the
road, shinning the light on each side. Someone was out here and he was determined to find him or her.
He
hopped on one foot when he stepped on a sharp rock. Besides being hot and miserable, it was only two in the morning
and he’d had a busy day bailing the hay he’d cut the day before. He wanted to get it done before it rained,
and now he wished it would. Maybe it
would cool off this blasted heat wave they’d been stuck in for more than a
month.
Jace
heard the moan again and shone his light to the right. A woman’s body lay on the side of the
road. He ran over and knelt down next
to her, shinning his light in her face. “Good Lord,” he whispered, seeing the bruises on her face, the bloody
lip, and the dried blood under her nose. “Miss?” he asked, shinning his light down her body. Her white blouse was torn, her jeans dirty,
and her feet were bare.
“Oh
my God,” he said, laying the light down to shine on her. He ran his fingers
over her head and found a lump on the back. He quickly checked her for broken ribs and bones, but felt sure none
were broken.
Jace
shook his head. There was only one
thing for him to do and that was to pick her up and take her back to his
place. He didn’t use a cell phone,
didn’t have a landline, and lived on his place by his own standards.
He
stood up, placed his hands under her and lifted her up as he rose to his
feet. She weighed next to nothing. So fragile, he thought, and it made him mad
that someone had beaten her up. His
mother had always taught him that if you had to hit a woman, then you weren’t
much of a man.
In
minutes he had her back to his place. He laid her on his bed, and put water on to heat. She needed those cuts tended to. He probably should take her to the hospital,
but he’d see what she wanted to do when she came to.
When
the water was hot, he filled his Ma’s spit bath pan that had been her
grandma’s, grabbed a washcloth, and walked over to kneel beside the bed. He quickly cleaned her up, applied some
antiseptic to her cuts and pulled the quilt over her. She was shivering and he was sure it was from shock and the
ordeal she’d been though.
Feeling
he’d done all he could for now, he went to the kitchen and heated up a can of
soup, sliced a piece of corn bread and put butter on it. As he ate, he kept glancing across the room
to where she lay, hoping she would awaken soon, so he could see what she wanted
him to do.
He
also wondered what she would think of his place. It was a sturdy cabin, he’d built himself, but with no
frills. It was all one room. There was the kitchen, a living area, with a
huge stone fireplace, and then the bed against the outer wall. His dresser sat below the bed
Similar Books
