Mary Baxter - Sultry

Lindsay was the first through the door, her heart in her throat. “Oh, my God, Annie.”

The woman who stood in front of her had been helped by the shelter, but had recently gone back to her husband, convinced he’d turned over a new leaf. When Lindsay had learned that, she’d been upset, thinking Annie and her precious five-year-old daughter Bridget would be perfect candidates for her proposed facility.

And she hadn’t thought for one minute that Annie’s husband had changed one iota. Unfortunately, her fears had been right on target.

Now Annie was hurt, battered and bruised. And bloody. Bright red blood was splattered all over the front of her blouse. Suddenly Lindsay felt the room spin as her mind roared back to another time, another place—to her mother’s blood-soaked body.

“Are you all right, Lindsay?”

Rita’s soothing voice at her shoulder suddenly righted the world. That was when she noticed that the blood had resulted from a split lip, not anything life-threatening. “I’m fine,” she whispered, then went to Annie and wrapped her arms around her.

“Oh, Miss Newman,” Annie gulped, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s going to be all right,” Lindsay said, fighting back her own tears. “You need to get to the hospital.”

Annie left Lindsay’s arms and went to Rita, who had taken charge. Lindsay dropped to her knees in front of the child, who looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Are you all right, sweetie?”

The little girl’s chin quivered, and tears spilled from her wide green eyes. “My daddy hurted my mommy.”

“Did he hurt you, too?” Lindsay’s hands were gently running up and down the tiny, malnourished body, searching for possible injuries.

“No.” Bridget sniffed. “Mommy hid me.”

“Good for Mommy.”

Lindsay held the child close for a long moment, feeling her small body tremble. Once she pulled back, she brushed the straggly strands of hair out of Bridget’s eyes.

“Is my mommy going to get well?”

“Of course,” Lindsay assured her in a choked voice. “Don’t you worry about that for one minute.”

“Can I go with her?”

“No, darling, not right now.” Lindsay peered up at Rita, who was hovering above her after seeing that Annie was taken to the emergency room. “You can see her later. Okay?”

Bridget nodded, though her lower lip couldn’t seem to stop quivering.

“Go with Miss Rita, and I’ll see you soon.” Lindsay brushed the tears off the child’s thin face.

“You promise?”

“I promise and cross my heart.”

Bridget gave her a wet kiss on the cheek before reaching up to Rita. Lindsay didn’t know how long she stood there, her throat all lumped up, before she could find the wherewithal to turn, walk out the door and make her way home.

Now, as she jerked herself back to the moment at hand, she frowned. Where was Mitch? That thought hadn’t done more than hit her when she heard a tap on the door.

Mitch? No, that wouldn’t be him. There was no reason for him to come inside. Most likely it was her daddy, or Dolly. She got up, hurried across the room and jerked open the door, only to have the bottom drop out of her stomach.

Mitch stood facing her.

She tried to ignore the excitement that leapt through her veins. He smelled faintly of mint and sweat, and needed a shave.

“Are you all right?” he asked, not bothering to mask the concern in those incredible eyes of his.

“I’m fine,” she said, feeling dizzy.

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