Second Chance Hero Read Online Free Page A

that bit into her palm, could taste the tang of blood from where she’d bit the inside of her cheek when she fell to the ground, could see the dust motes hanging in the air before her.
    Please, Jesus. Please, Jesus. Please, Jesus.
    She wasn’t sure whether she was uttering the frantic prayer aloud or if it was just shrieking through her thoughts.
    From somewhere a woman screamed, but all sounds, save for the wagon’s relentless rumbling progress, seemed to come from a great distance.
    Verity spotted the moment the wagon driver spied Joy and tried to turn his horses.
    And still Joy didn’t move.
    Then, from out of nowhere, Mr. Cooper shot past her, and time sped up with a whoosh. He dived toward Joy, reaching her a heart-stopping split second before the horse’s hooves would have trampled the child, and pushing her out of the way.
    Without remembering having moved, Verity was suddenly kneeling in the road with her weeping daughter clutched tightly against her. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest and her breath came in near gasps. She’d come so close to losing her precious baby. She could still feel the stab of keening desolation that pierced her the moment she’d realized she couldn’t get to Joy in time. This time the prayer she sent up was one of thanksgiving.
    â€œMama, you’re squeezing too tight.” Joy’s querulous complaint ended on a hiccup.
    Verity had to fight down the hysterical bubble of laughter that wanted to leap from her throat. Instead she loosened her hold and pushed back just enough to examine her daughter, brushing aside a tendril of Joy’s hair with fingers that trembled uncontrollably. “Don’t you
ever
scare Mommy like that again.”
    Joy shook her head, then hiccupped again as her tears stopped.
    Verity was vaguely aware that Hazel stood at her elbow and that a crowd had gathered, but her attention remained focused on reassuring herself that Joy really was okay.
    Fortunately, her daughter appeared more scared and confused than hurt. The stains and smears on her pinafore were dirt, not blood.
    â€œI’m so sorry.”
    Verity looked up into the pale, worried face of Nestor James, the wagon driver.
    â€œPlease tell me your little girl’s okay,” he continued as he crushed his hat in his hands. “I didn’t see her ’til I was practically on top of her.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault, Mr. James.” Though her voice was still shaky, now that Verity knew Joy was okay she could be reasonable. “I should have kept closer watch over her. And it appears Joy isn’t hurt—just shaken up. Thanks to Mr. Cooper.”
    She looked around for the man who’d saved her daughter.
    And only then realized he hadn’t fared as well as Joy.
    He was sitting up, his movements slow and stiff. There was a darkening bruise on his forehead, he held his left arm stiffly and his sleeve was ripped and stained with blood and dirt.
    Sheriff Gleason had bent down to lend him a hand up.
    Verity immediately intervened. “Don’t get up yet, Mr. Cooper. Not until I’ve had a look at you.” There was no telling how badly he might be injured.
    He gave her a startled look, which she ignored. Instead she turned to Sheriff Gleason. “Keep an eye on him, please.” Then she turned back to Joy. “Do you hurt anywhere, pumpkin?”
    Joy bent her right arm and lifted it for inspection. “I hurted my elbow. And Lulu got smushed.”
    Quickly noting that Joy’s elbow was merely scraped, Verity bent down and gave it a kiss. “There, is that better?”
    Joy nodded, swiping at the dirt and tears on her face with her other sleeve. Then she handed the doll up to her mother. Verity obediently gave the doll a kiss, as well. “There. You should both feel better once you’ve washed up a bit.”
    Then she gave her daughter a stern look. “Now, I want you to stay close to Miss