Page 282 of Cowboys & Navy SEALs

“Close your eyes,” he murmured, sending tantalizing ripples down her spine.

Against her better judgment, she complied. She thought …hopedhe might kiss her. She moistened her lips in anticipation and felt a twinge of disappointment when he didn’t.

He placed his hands on her temples. “Now, I want you to block out everything else around you and concentrate on my voice.”

She giggled inwardly, feeling like she was sixteen. That wasn’t hard to do. When Sheldon was near, she concentrated on little else.

“I’m going to count backward, starting with twenty. Count with me. Listen to my voice,” he commanded. “Twenty, nineteen, eighteen …”

As the counting continued, she had the impression that the crowd around them had vanished. It was only Sheldon and her, and they were suspended in midair. Then blackness swirled around her, and she was falling through some sort of a tunnel. She screamed, her hands clawing for something to hold onto as she spiraled through empty space.

A blinding light flashed before her eyes, and then Gracie was standing on a crowded street. She swirled around, trying to get her bearings. She looked up at the imposing buildings on either side of the street with their terraces and metal fire escapes, and then her eyes moved down to street level to the building nearest her. She took in the vivid red bricks, a pleasant contrast to the hunter green shutters flanking the windows. There were canopies over many of the building entrances. A street lamp drew her attention, and it only took a split second for her mind to register that she was in another time. Cars had been replaced by horse-drawn wagons, and the men and women were dressed in an old-fashioned style, with the men wearing suits, ties, long coats and top hats and the women wearing long dresses with aprons. A young boy was wearing suspenders and a derby cap.It was like being thrown into a live movie set. Dozens of wagons were parked along the street and loaded with an assortment of fresh vegetables and other household items for sale. Clothing hung from the terraces above, flapping haphazardly in the wind like kites that had gotten captured in trees. Somehow, in a way that she couldn’t explain, she knew the city was New York and that the time was November of 1907. The clopping of horse hoofs pounded out a steady beat against the creaking of the wagon wheels, as they turned against the packed dirt on the street, sounding like knee joints cracking. The scent of cooking food invaded her senses, and then she caught a whiff of horse dung. Nausea rolled over her as she touched her nose. She fleetingly wondered why she was here, and then she saw him—the small boy dodging in and out of people. There was an aura of desperation about him. His wavy hair was so black that it was almost blue, and his eyes looked too large for his pale, gaunt face. He was dirty and ragged, and his legs stuck out a good six inches from the bottom of his pants. She moved to get a closer look.

Fear coated Sheldon’s throat as he glanced over his shoulder. He pulled his dilapidated coat tighter around his skeletal frame in order to protect the slight bulge underneath. Louis and his gang had been on his tail ever since he’d managed to snatch the loaf of bread from the street-side vendor. They hated him, not because of anything he’d done, but simply because he was Catholic and Italian—the lowest scum, as far as they were concerned. His stomach growled at the thought of the crusty bread. He’d not eaten a bite since yesterday. Hunger gnawed painfully at his gut, but he pushed it aside and focused on getting to safety. Hehad to get home to his mamma. She was depending on him to bring home the bread. It would go nicely with the broth she was making. It would be a meager meal for the two of them, but they were lucky to have it. Work was scarce, especially for a single woman and her son. His mamma had managed to provide a roof over their heads and a couple of meals a day—until she got sick. Even though she kept insisting that she was getting better, her cough was getting worse. Last night, Sheldon saw something that hammered spikes of dread through his insides. A fit of coughing had overtaken her, and when she pulled the handkerchief away from her lips, there were drops of blood.

His pulse quickened as he weaved in and out of the people milling along the sides of the streets.Almost there!He could see his building in the distance. He increased his pace to a run. He was so fixated on reaching the building that he didn’t see the boy shoot out from the alley, until it was too late. The boy barreled into him like an ox plowing over a chick, knocking him to the ground. A paralyzing fear constricted around him as Louis and his cronies encircled him. Strong arms jerked him to his feet as he looked up at his worst nightmare. He tried to keep his fear from showing, knowing full well that whatever torture Louis had planned for him would be much worse if he sensed his fear. Despite his best effort, he couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

“Look at the little baby,” one of the boys taunted, “he wants his mama.”

“What’s your hurry?” Louis said, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

“No hurry.” He made his voice go an octave lower to hide the squeak.

“Whatcha got under your coat, you filthy wop!”

“Nothing,” Sheldon lied, trying to quell the quiver in his voice.

Louis jerked back his coat and grabbed the loaf of bread. “Who’d you steal it from?” He got up in Sheldon’s face. “We don’t like your kind ‘round here. Scum dagos, trying to take what’s ours. The bread’s now mine!”

“No!” All Sheldon could think about was his mamma, waiting at home, her tattered shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders. Anger snuffed out the fear as he straightened his scrawny shoulders and glared into the face of his tormentor. “Give it back!”

Surprise flashed in Louis’s cold eyes. “What did you say?”

“I said, give it back!”

Louis let out a bawdy laugh and looked at the other guys. “Did you hear that? He wants his bread back.” He shook his head, his eyes growing hard. “I don’t think so.” He bit off a large hunk and spit it into Sheldon’s face. Then he threw the loaf onto the ground and began grinding it into the dirt.

“No!” Gracie cried. She stepped up to the group. “Stop it! Stop it!” She reached to grab Louis’s shirt, but her hand went right through it. Her heart broke for Sheldon. She could taste his fear … feel his hunger, and yet she was utterly powerless to help him.

All reason escaped Sheldon as he let out a shriek that barely sounded human. He tucked his head and attacked Louis, punching and kicking as hard as he could. Louis stumbled backwards, and for a moment it seemed as if Sheldon might get the upper hand. But he was no match for the ruthless giant. Louis came back swinging, and when his iron fist connected with Sheldon’s jaw, it was all over. A sickening pop rent the air as Sheldon dropped to the ground, gasping. He curled into a fetal position, but Louis wasn’t finished. A sadistic light came into his eyes as he began kicking him viciously in the stomach and back. Sheldon held up his hands in an effort to protect his face from the onslaught.

“That’s enough!”

The circle cleared as the boys began backing away. Louis had his back turned and didn’t realize the man was there. The well-dressed man yanked Louis backwards. Louis swore and then turned. He drew his fist to strike and then stopped midair when he recognized the man. His eyes filled with fear as he dropped his fist to his side. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

The man shoved him in the chest. “You are sorry! Now get out of here—all of you—before I teach you a lesson you’ll not soon forget.” The boys turned and ran.

The man pulled out a handkerchief and held it out to Sheldon who was still fighting to catch his breath. A trail of blood ran from his nose, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Here, let me help you up.”

Sheldon allowed the man to pull him to his feet.

“You all right?”

“No, he’s not all right!” Gracie yelled. His face was swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and there was a deep cut above his right eye.

Sheldon nodded, but he could hardly stand up straight. Then he looked at the crushed bread that was covered with dirt. He hobbled over and picked it up.

The man’s thick eyebrows bunched. “What’re you doing?”

---