Peggy Webb - Touched by Angels

Touched by Angels

by Peggy Webb

Copyright

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Peggy Webb

Cover design copyright 2011 Pat Ryan Graphics

Publishing History/ Bantam Books, 1992

All rights reserved. Copyright 1992 by Peggy Webb.

In memory of Cooper, who touched all our lives and gave us a glimpse of angels.

Chapter One

The child came out of nowhere.

One minute Jake Townsend was racing down the highway, taking the curves too fast, tempting fate to spare him one more time, and the next minute he was swerving toward the ditch. Dirt and gravel spewed up. hitting his helmet like sudden summer hail. His motorcycle tilted at a crazy angle.

He swore loudly, wrestling with his machine in a life-and-death struggle. The motorcycle came to a bone-jarring stop in the ditch.

Jake jumped free and ran toward the child. She was standing in the middle of the road, sucking her thumb and observing him with enormous eyes. Blue eyes. Bonnie's eyes. Jake froze. The blue eyes regarded him, unblinking. His heart started beating so hard, he nearly lost his breath.

"Bonnie?" he whispered, knowing she wouldn't answer, knowing she could never answer.

The child pulled her thumb from her mouth. It made a soft popping sound.

Jake broke out in a sweat. He passed his hand over

his face. His legs wouldn't move. He was caught in a time warp, trapped in the middle of the dusty road with the blue-eyed child.

Suddenly he heard the car bearing down on them with engine roaring. Jake's paralysis vanished. In one quick motion he grabbed the child and raced to the other side of the road. Dust settled over them as the car whizzed by.

His heart was pumping so hard, he could hear the mad rush of blood in his ears. His legs felt weak.

He looked at the child in his arms. "Oh Lord. I've saved you. Bonnie, I've saved you." He pressed his face to the child's hair. One soft curl clung to his cheek. The morning sun burnished it gold.

Jake's heartbeat slowed and his breathing returned to normal. The child was not Bonnie at all. Bonnie's hair had been dark, almost as dark as his own.

"It's all right, sweetheart," he crooned. "Everything is all right now. You're safe."

The child didnt appear at all frightened. She merely sat in his arms and regarded him with her placid blue eyes.

"What's your name, darling?" Jake asked. But she didn't answer. Maybe she was scared after all, he thought. She looked about four years old. Most four-year-olds told their names when asked. Jake tried again. "Mommy? Where's Mommy?"

"JENNY! JENNY!" The female voice came from behind them.

"I guess that answers my last question." He turned around, still holding on to the unflappable Jenny. The woman racing toward him looked as if she had come straight from combat in a hot and dusty country. Her jeans were grimy, her white blouse was no longer anything to brag about, and her hair straggled from its ponytail. She might have been pretty if she were cleaned up. He couldnt tell. And at the moment he didn't care.

"Is this your child?"

She didn't answer. Instead she plucked the little girl from his arms and cuddled her close. Tears streaked through the dust on her cheeks.

"Jenny," she murmured over and over, "Jenny, my Jenny."

"She's safe," Jake said gently. "Don't worry, she's safe now."

"When I discovered her missing, I was terrified." The mother looked at him with eyes as blue as her child's.

There was something so wise and beautiful about those eyes that Jake wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her. An image of himself as comforter and protector rose up in his mind, and for one glorious golden moment Jake felt human. Warmth and compassion flowed through him, thawing the iceberg that encased his heart. But the moment was fleeting. Caring too much was hell. He'd been there once; he didn't plan to go again.

Jenny and her mother tugged at his heart. There's danger here, Jake's mind whispered. He turned away from mother and childso much temptation, so many memoriesand started across the road.

"Wait. I don't even know your name," the woman called after him.

His first instinct was to keep on going. But something made him turn around.

"It's not necessary for you to know my name. We won't be seeing each other again." He would make damned sure of that. He had enough ghosts in his dreams. He didn't want them haunting his waking hours as well.

"I don't blame you for being cross. I'm not a bad mother." Jenny's mother got fresh tears in her eyes. "It's just that sometimes Jenny gets away. She's .. The woman paused, biting her lower lip. "... just Jenny."

Jake could never hold firm in the face of a woman's tears. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Dont cry. Everything is okay now."

The woman sniffled into the handkerchief while Jenny patted her face. Suddenly the child turned to Jake.

"Mommy sad." There was a faraway quality to Jenny's voice, as if she were bending down from some distant cloud to speak to him.

Jake found himself wondering about mother and child. Who were they? Where had they come from? He had grown up in Florence, Alabama. The house behind them had been vacant for the last five years. It was so old and ramshackle; the local kids used it for a ghost house on Halloween.

"I'm Sarah Love, and this is my daughter, Jenny." The woman extended her hand.

Jake was taken aback, as if she had read his mind. He hesitated for a moment then took her hand. It was soft and smooth, but not at all fragile. There was strength and firmness in Sarah Love's grip. Strength and firmness and a willingness to be friends.

He didn't want to be friends with Sarah Love. He didn't want to know whether she would be merely pretty or simply beautiful in a blue dress that matched her eyes. He didn't want to know whether the rosy glow showing through ail the dirt on her face was natural or the result of clever cosmetics.

"I owe you a tremendous debt of thanks," the woman said, smiling through her tears. "You saved Jenny's life."

"You owe me nothing." Jake released her hand. He intended to go quickly, but the child suddenly reached toward him, smiling. Jenny's smile turned his heart upside down. Her dimpled hand waved in the air, and before he knew what he was doing, he had reached for it. It was as light as a dandelion.

"Nice man," Jenny said.

Jake hadn't been nice in six years. Nevertheless he stood by the roadside holding on to Jenny's hand, feeling as if he had just received the Nice Man of the Year award. He fancied that if he looked into the mirror, he might actually see a man who had a heart. He knew that wasn't so, of course. Most people called him cold and many went so far as to call him a heartless bastard. Women, of course, were a different matter. They called him other names, pet names, mainly on the telephone. They called in droves, begging to comfort and soothe him and make him forget. He took their comfort and their soothing, but he never forgot.

And now Jenny was offering comfort. But she was a different matter. She had Bonnie's blue eyes.

"And you're a nice little girl," he said, bending over like a knight in King Arthur's court and pressing a kiss on Jenny's hand. She giggled. Then, feeling a bit foolish, he released her and gave her mother a stern look. "Take care of this child, Sarah Love."

He left quickly before she could reply. He'd had enough of niceness and chivalry for one morning. He climbed onto his motorcycle and revved it to life. He thought he heard Sarah Love's voice over the engine, but he didn't turn off the machine. Nor did he strain his ears to hear. As far as he was concerned, Sarah and Jenny Love were a part of his past, something unexpected that had happened to him on a fine summer morning.