Her throat constricted with two emotions. Gratitude toward Maria and her mother because she knew Whit was safe with them, and agony as she wondered which “firsts” they’d be the ones to see, rather than her. His first laugh? The first time he rolled over? Sat up?
She shook her head, banishing the thought, and stroked his silky crown. “I’m going to work hard for us, and maybe I can be the one with you for all of those.”
Remembering some of the figures in the budget Leah had helped her set up for her personal and business expenses, Presley Ann slung her handbag over her shoulder and said, “We better hurry. That money isn’t going to earn itself. I need to get started at home.”
After closing the car door she walked between her car and the big, muddy ranch truck next to her in the cramped parking lot, taking care to not brush her clothing against the fenders over the broad back wheels. Whit sneezed suddenly and looked up at her in surprise with a messy nose.
“Oh, goodness, don’t rub it,” she said, catching his little hands before he smeared snot all over his face and giggled as she dug in her purse for a Kleenex or something to wipe him up with. She’d left his diaper bag in the car.
She found a tissue and cleaned up his nose as she walked around the back of the big truck. She was about to slide the folded up tissue in her purse when she suddenly stepped out of her shoe. The loose gravel was rough and cold under her feet and she whimpered when she struck her already painful heel against a rock.
“Oh boy.” She hopped around on one foot as she tried to wipe the bottom of her foot off while balancing Whit in his sling with her other hand. The baby made huffing sounds as he bounced, and she giggled at how she must look to passersby.
She bent to pick up the shoe and was just slipping her foot back into it when suddenly her purse slid off her shoulder and hit the ground, spilling some of the contents in the process.
“Well, crap on a cracker,” she muttered to herself. Whit looked up at her with big eyes and she giggled, bracing his head and back as she crouched down behind the truck to retrieve her wallet, lipstick, and pepper spray. Hank had given all the ladies that had attended his self-defense class one, and she carried it with her everywhere she went.
A conversation and the nearby thump of a door closing carried to her as she reached for her pen, which had rolled a couple of feet away. Whit took in the interesting turn of events as he gripped the front of her blouse in his little fists. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”
An eighteen-wheeler rumbled by on the street just a few feet away, making a loud racket, and the next thing she heard was a man’s urgent loud voice.
“Oh no…no, no, no, no, no!”
Footsteps pounded toward her as someone hollered, “Aw fuck!”
It all happened in the space of the blink of an eye, as she turned toward the sounds and saw the trailer hitch of the truck she’d been crouched behind headed directly at her. A high-pitched female scream pierced the air, and she added her own scream to the noise as terror froze her muscles.
Suddenly, like angels descending, two men appeared, swooped her and Whit up in their arms and carried her bodily out of the path of the truck. She couldn’t stop screaming, even as Whit joined her with frightened wails of his own, as her heart pounded practically out of her chest.
I nearly got us killed! How stupid could I be!
The driver of the truck slammed on its brakes, making the tires drag on the rough gravel with a loud crunching sound. Whit shrieked as he held tight to her blouse, and an ugly wave of guilt washed through her, every morbid thought crowding in her head, imagining the sound of those tires on gravel was the sound of bones shattering.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh Whit, I nearly got you killed! Oh my God!” She paused to draw breath and held on to her baby tightly, feeling even guiltier as he quickly calmed.
You shouldn’t trust me so easily, baby! I can’t even be trusted with basic parking lot safety!
If it wasn’t for the strong arms holding her up she would’ve collapsed.
Suddenly a stranger was peering into her face, anxiety written on his face as he spoke in a quiet but earnest voice. “Durn it, ma’am. I’m so sorry. I honest to Pete didn’t even see you there. Are you all right? Oh, Lord. And your baby? Is your baby all right?” The man looked them over, obviously fearing that he’d struck them as he pulled his ball cap from his head and wrung it in his hands.
The man looked ready to cry, and for some reason, that calmed her. Nothing had happened. She was still standing, albeit a little wobbly. The truck hadn’t hit her or Whit. Drawing a shaky breath, and feeling incredibly grateful for the observant men who had literally saved hers and Whit’s lives, she nodded and said, “Yes. Yes. I’m okay. Whit’s okay, thanks to these two men.” My guardian angels. She wanted to hug them both so hard.