Broken Wings Read Online Free PDF Page A

kept his eyes focused above her bust line. But he always physically evaluated every woman he met; it was just the nature of sex, he reasoned. He could not help it if he found the distant Ms. Wells attractive.
    Daniel quickly silenced his runaway libido. He knew this was the type of woman he should keep out of his thoughts. She had the face and figure that could haunt a man for a very long time, but the high walls in which she had encased herself made Daniel wary of getting to know her better than he already had. For a woman who should have everything going for her, he wondered why she seemed to be running away from all that she could offer any man. It was as if she had purposely closed off the most attractive portions of herself to ensure no man would ever want to get too close.
    Daniel laughed to himself as he finished putting the last bit of the scrap cloth into one of the cages.
    “You’re no prize either, Daniel Phillips,” he quietly scolded.
    But as he observed Pamela engaging the young girls in front of a cage of bouncing rabbits, he wondered if he hadn’t been a bit rough on her. And when Pamela turned her gray eyes to him from across the clearing, Daniel felt his frustration with the woman give way to a more intriguing feeling.
    “Maybe I should start over with the elusive Pamela Wells,” he mumbled as he let a slo w smile spread across his lips.
    Everyone deserves a second chance, his mother had always told him. No matter if they are friend or foe, second chances are fate’s way of showing you just how wrong first impressions can be.
    *  *  *  *
    After the busload of Girl Scouts had left her facility laughing and filled with happy memories, Pamela settled her aching body on the green couch in her living room/office. Scattered about the old rolltop desk in the corner and piled up on the hardwood floor were stacks of bills and wildlife magazines. Located behind the living room was a yellow kitchen with two refrigerators; one marked for human food, the other for animal food. In the breakfast area, on top of a round breakfast table, was an assortment of square plastic containers with small, circular air holes drilled into the sides and lids. Inside the containers, mounds of felt strips could be seen moving with an occasional baby squirrel head peeping out from beneath its protective coverings. On the opposite wall from the kitchen was an old television and satellite dish receiver sitting on an oak entertainment center. Next to the entertainment center was a long wooden table with a laptop computer, printer, and large wire cage on top of it. Inside the open cage a very round gray squirrel sat contentedly eating a pecan.
    “Louis,” Pamela said as she looked at the squirrel. “I’m exhausted.”
    The squirrel took no notice of Pamela and continued to enjoy his nut.
    A knock at the front door made Pamela sigh and reluctantly get up from her couch. She walked across the living room to the door and opened it.
    Daniel was there, holding up a piece of white paper. “I need you to sign off on my time sheet before I go,” he said, nodding to the paper in his hand.
    She moved back from the door and waved him into her home. “Come in. I’ll just get a pen.”
    Daniel stepped inside and took in the cluttered living room. “I think your animals live better than you do.”
    Pamela ignored his comment and went over to her rolltop desk. After shuffling around some papers to find a pen, she turned back to Daniel.
    “Is that another of the successfully rehabbed?” he asked, pointing at Louis in his cage.
    Pamela smiled affectionately as she nodded to the squirrel. “No, this is my baby boy, Louis.” She walked over to the cage and reached in to gently rub the squirrel’s head.
    Louis, more interested in his nut than the affection, never stopped munching.
    “He was a Katrina baby. He injured his back in a fall from a tree during the storm and could never be released. He can’t climb very well, or jump, like a