When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,13
his uniform, dozed behind a large scarred pine desk. His blue uniform shirt stretched over a ponderous abdomen, its buttons threatening to burst with each sonorous breath. Her knock on the window wrenched him awake.
“I need to get to this address,” Molly said.
He slid one pane of glass sideways and took the card. “You got to go out to the highway, go left for about fifteen minutes. You’ll pass a small white church, then...”
“Could you write down the directions? I’m not from around here.”
“Sure, Miss.” He took out a lined pad and began writing. “You got quite a load there.” He ripped off the page and handed it to her. “You should have no problem finding the place.”
Molly followed his directions. Fortunately, he’d drawn a map with clear street names and landmarks. She turned right at Wallace’s Groceries, then another right at the Calvary Baptist Church. It took her five minutes to get back to the highway. Gracie had fallen asleep within two of those minutes. She glanced in the rear-view mirror. The child’s damp hair hung in ringlets around her chubby face, like a halo making her look like an angel. Molly couldn’t help smiling.
The child’s current predicament touched a cord in her heart. What would it be like to be a mother? What would her child look like? Would she be as cute as this munchkin in her back seat? Molly shook her head. Had this encounter set off her biological clock?
Outside of town, the houses thinned and the highway began to twist and turn. Her heart rate accelerated, exceeding the speed limit as she neared the accident site. Subconsciously her foot eased off the gas, and she had to remind herself to breathe. Pearce Taylor’s Jaguar sat there, its front end crumpled like a recycled pop can.
Molly’s thoughts went to the man fighting for his life after that terrible crash. She prayed he would survive. She remembered holding him in her arms and waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The scent of his cologne seemed to have transferred to her blouse and its heady perfume was having a strange effect on her. For several minutes, she let herself imagine him in her arms again, then the image of him in the hospital bed brought her back to reality.
It was a miracle Gracie had escaped that mangled mess with only a few scratches. Molly glanced in the rearview mirror. The child continued to sleep. Molly shivered at the thought of what the outcome could have been. The road remained dark and deserted. How long would it have been before the next car had come along and found them?
Molly was glad she’d been there. If the car had caught fire or exploded... She pressed her foot on the gas and hurried past the vehicle. It took several minutes for her heart rate to return to normal. She relaxed back in the seat, enjoying the ability to breathe without conscious effort.
She concentrated on her mission. To find someone who knew Gracie and her father. Molly hoped someone would be waiting expectantly at the front door.
The security guard had told her to follow the highway until she passed the village of Arva, then go five miles until she came to a series of concession roads. The one she wanted was the third one. The house number should be on the mailbox.
The trees were thinning. She saw a house, then a bit farther, another one. Was Arva coming up soon? One sign announcing the village, and a second one, reducing the speed to 30 miles per hour, came up on her right. It took her less than a minute to drive through the village. The child continued to sleep, her head tipped to one side, strands of blond hair sweeping across her peaceful face. The even rise and fall of her chest reassured Molly.
That maternal instinct roused again as she let herself imagine the dark-haired man as her husband, and this, their child. Memories of the child clinging to her, her tiny body pressed against her, mistakenly calling her Mommy, instead of Molly. She felt a pang of jealousy and regret that shortly she would turn the child over to her real family and never see her again.
Would she ever have children of her own? That would mean having someone in her life to father a child. The way her life was going right now, that would be never. A tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away. Stop