While neither had actually committed funds, Lindsay knew their money would be forthcoming if she could pull the details all together. She had held her breath, waiting for at least one of them to ask about Cooper’s role in her undertaking. To her relief, that particular question had not been asked.
She doubted her daddy had given their conversation any further thought once he had gone on record with his disapproval. He undoubtedly figured she would drop the idea like a hot potato.
Wrong. Now that she had someone else interested, she was determined to steamroll ahead. Most likely, there would be a price to pay for her flagrant show of independence, but she would gladly pay it.
If only she could get Cooper to the shelter… Lindsay smiled a bitter smile. That was never going to happen. But if he were ever to weaken and walk through the doors, he would understand where her passion stemmed from.
Today would have been a perfect example of how critical the circumstances were. After she had left her friends, she had gone to the shelter and spent the remainder of the morning there, meeting with the director, Rita Thomas.
If ever there was a saint, it was Rita. Lindsay admired her more each time she met with her. She was doing an outstanding job with the women and the budget. But sometimes the load seemed too heavy to bear.
Still, Rita never complained. She was undoubtedly one of the sweetest and warmest women Lindsay had ever known. Though she was only in her early forties, she had lived a lifetime, having barely escaped with her life from an abusive husband. But since his death several years ago, Rita had gotten herself back together and made her life count for something.
Lindsay often thought the reason they had hit it off so well was that they had both suffered terribly, though in totally different ways and for totally different reasons. But it didn’t matter. They had each weathered some severe storms and had come out the stronger—or at least Rita had.
Lindsay wasn’t so sure about herself. It seemed she still had a lot to learn and a long way to go. However, she never failed to draw strength from Rita, and today had been no exception.
“So what’s up?” Rita had asked, once she had poured them a cup of coffee and sat back down at the two-seater table in the small kitchen.
Lindsay studied her friend, thinking something was different about her. Yet she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“It’s my hair,” Rita admitted in a shy, hesitant tone. “I cut it.”
“Right!” Lindsay exclaimed. “And it looks great, too.”
A blush crept into Rita’s leather-textured cheeks, giving her a glow that had heretofore been missing. “Thanks. It’s so much easier to take care of now. It doesn’t take me nearly as much time.”
“And time is something you don’t have enough of.”
Rita’s face sobered once more. “You can say that again. We have so many women to place with nowhere to place them, that it’s completely overwhelming.”
“I know.”
They were quiet for a minute, each sipping on her coffee.
Rita was the first to break the silence. “So, again, what’s up?”
“How do you know anything’s up?” Lindsay tried to contain her excitement and keep a straight face, but she knew her eyes had given her away. They always did.
“Your eyes.”
“I knew it.” Lindsay grinned. “But you’re right, I do have something up my sleeve.”
“Let’s hear it. I need some good news.”
“Well, here goes.”
By the time Lindsay finished outlining her plan, tears were running down Rita’s face.
“Oh, Lindsay!” she cried. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything yet. It’s not a done deal by any stretch of the imagination. We have to raise the money.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” Rita’s voice was filled with awe.
“I’m going to give it my best shot.”
“Then I know it will come about.”
“Meanwhile, I certainly need your input. When you get some spare time—ha, that’s a joke—jot your thoughts, needs, ideas and goals down on paper.”
“Consider it done.”
They both swallowed another sip of coffee as they got up. Then Lindsay gave Rita a hug. “I’ll call you later.”
“I’ll walk you to the door. Come on.”
They heard the sobbing almost immediately, coming from the front room of the facility. Lindsay and Rita looked at each other, their eyes clouding over, then headed toward the pitiful sound.
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