Cheryl St.John - Charlie's Angels

After getting Meredith out of the back seat and placing her inside the house, Charlie went back for the young woman. He carried her through the mudroom, across the kitchen and into the great room where he laid her on the leather sofa. After hurriedly running back and hitting the button to close the garage door, he turned on indoor lights and checked her head.

The snow had helped to slow the flow of blood from the wound. He grabbed clean kitchen towels and applied pressure to the cut. Meredith stood nearby, her eyes wide with fright, her dark hair curling wildly around her stricken face.

Charlie reached for her with one arm, and she flung herself against him. He sat on the floor beside the sofa to hold his baby and keep pressure on the woman’s cut.

He’d never been so frightened in his entire life. Almost losing this child had been a gruesome experience. He hugged her warm little body close, felt her trembling and inhaled the wonderful child scent he so loved. His heart couldn’t contain his gratitude at having her safe in his embrace. His eyes stung.

“Are you so, so mad, Daddy?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“We’ll talk about that later. Not right now.” He kissed her hair, her soft cheeks. Closed his eyes and thanked God with his whole being.

They were still sitting like that when he saw a headlight flicker across the lawn and heard the rumble of the snowmobile’s engine cut. “Why don’t you go to your room and rest on your bed for a little while?” he said to his daughter.

Obediently she got up and headed for the hallway.

Charlie let Garreth Kline in. “She’s right here.” He led the young doctor to the sofa.

“What’s her name?” the tall dark-haired man asked.

Charlie realized he didn’t know and told him so.

Garreth took a penlight and raised one of the woman’s eyelids at a time. “Her pupils are equal and reactive.” He removed the cloth to examine the cut. “This needs a couple of stitches. Miss? Can you hear me? Miss?”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Knocked out, I’d say. Took a good whack on the head there.”

“Are those medical terms?”

Garreth ignored him and rubbed his knuckles against her sternum. “Can you wake up and look at me?”

Her eyelids fluttered open.

“Hi. I’m a doctor. Do you know your name?”

She frowned, but she said softly, “Starla.”

“Good. Starla, you have a cut on your head. I’m going to numb the area first, and then I’ll suture it.”

She nodded and closed her eyes.

The doctor tugged on latex gloves and prepared a syringe. Charlie washed his hands in case Garreth needed his help, but then just stood by as Garreth neatly closed the wound, tied a knot and clipped the thread. “She’s going to have a whopping headache,” the doc said, removing the gloves and placing supplies back in his bag. “Do you have any Tylenol?”

Charlie found a bottle.

“She should rest, in case she has a concussion. If she falls asleep and isn’t responsive, or if she vomits, call me.”

“What am I going to do with her?” Charlie asked.

“Just keep her comfortable. And don’t let her drive.”

Charlie shook his head. “Funny.”

Garreth shrugged. “Seriously. Looks like you’ve got yourself a house guest for the duration of the storm.”

Charlie studied the woman on his sofa, then looked at Garreth, whose eyes held a twinkle.

“The situation doesn’t look all that bad, Charlie.”

“I just had one of the worst scares of my life. I need some time to recover.”

“Meredith’s okay? Should I have a look at her?”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.” He led the way to his daughter’s room. “Look, honey, Dr. Kline is here.”

Meredith sat up on her bed, a worn blue bunny hugged to her chest. “Is the angel lady okay?”

“She’s fine,” Garreth told her. “She just got a bump on the head and a cut. How about you? Did you bump your head?”

Meredith said no. “The angel lady covered my head up with my coat. I was scared.”

“She was protecting you, you know that, right?”

Meredith nodded. “That’s what angels do. That’s what Aunt Edna’s angel did. Protected her from a car crash.”

Charlie exchanged a look with the young doctor. Janet Carter’s aunt would tell the story of the angel in the car to anyone who would listen, and anyone who’d ever met her had heard the tale. What that old lady’s story and his daughter’s experience today had in common, he couldn’t imagine, but Meredith had found a comparison. Confirmation of her theory, apparently.

With his penlight, Garreth checked Meredith’s pupils. He felt her arms and legs and pushed lightly on her chest and her stomach. She seemed to have no pain anywhere. “Looks like you came through without a scratch,” he said to her.

She nodded gravely. “But my daddy’s mad.”

“I’m sure he’s more glad to see you safe than he is mad.”

She gave her father the resigned look of a condemned prisoner. “We’re gonna talk ’bout it later.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to that,” Garreth said, straightening and heading into the other room.

Charlie followed him. “Thanks for coming.”

“Your lady vet’s snowmobile has come in handy more than once.”

“I had dinner with her once, she’s hardly my lady vet.”

Garreth only shrugged. He made his way back to the patient. “I’m leaving now, Starla. Charlie is going to watch out for you. You’re in good hands. If you need anything, he’ll call me.”

She opened her eyes and nodded.

Garreth pulled on his coat and gloves. “Call if you need me.”

Charlie closed the door behind him. Slowly he made his way back to the exquisite woman on his sofa. She was here because of his daughter. Had been injured returning his precious Meredith. “I’m really sorry about this,” he said.

Her lids raised and she focused those unusual blue eyes on him. Something in his chest fluttered. “That’s okay.”

“Do you have a headache?” he asked.

She licked her lips. “Either that or there’s a little guy with a jackhammer inside my skull.”

“The doc said you could have some Tylenol. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks.”

He went for water, shook a couple of capsules out of the bottle and secured the childproof lid.

“How’s Meredith?” she asked.

“She’s just fine.”

“She didn’t get any bumps?”

“No.”

“What about the truck?” Her eyes held grave concern.

“In the ditch. Snow up to the wheel wells. It’s not going anywhere.”

“I was afraid of that. Was it still running?”

“Yes, I shut it off and took the keys?”

“Did you lock it?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not going anywhere, and the roads are closed. Nobody’s going to be on that highway.”

She tried to sit up. “Oh, boy, I’m dizzy.”

Charlie knelt beside her and reached an arm behind her back to help her sit. He had to help her hold the glass, too, because her hand was shaky. She smelled like a blend of powder and spice, exotic and feminine, and her fingers beneath his were slender and soft. He experienced the same trouble breathing that he had in the restaurant when he’d first seen her.

He lowered her back to a lying position. “I’ll get you some pillows and covers,” he told her. When he returned, he went to the end of the sofa. “Can I take your boots off?”

She raised one foot.

He reached inside her pant leg and unzipped, then tugged and the black leather boot came off, revealing a slender foot in an ordinary white sock. The sight gave him a hard-on so quickly, he almost turned away. Instead he unzipped and removed the other boot, opened the blanket and covered up the sight of her feet and her legs and her hips in those low-cut jeans and…