Free Luca's Dilemma by Deneice Tarbox

sensed it because he moved his hand from where it rested on the back of the bench to her shoulder. Warmth spread through her as he began rubbing little circles there, the action comforting her enough to meet his inquisitive gaze.
    “Did something happen in the sheep barn, baby?”
    Sheila affirmed it with a nod.
    “What happened in the barn?” Tina inquired, scrunching her tiny nose up in confusion. Richard squatted next to his wife, both of them staring at Sheila with their eyebrows knitted together, awaiting her answer.
    “The sheep…” she started, but the rest of her sentence was inaudible, even to her own ears. Although the crowd had dispersed, she could still feel the heat of the many curious eyes that lingered on her. Those eye bearers had ears too.
    “What?” Richard said with a quick shake of his head, prompting her to speak louder.
    “I said the sheep… they look like Klansmen,” she bit out through clenched teeth, making every attempt to keep all others from overhearing. Her head and eyes darted back and forth in paranoia, as if the hooded men would instantly materialize at the mention of their infamous name.
    Poor Sheila was granted less than a thirty–second reprieve before her two friends were practically rolling on the ground in laughter. Her paranoia gave way to irritation at their refusal to take her seriously.
    “Hey, hey! That shit’s not funny, man!” Sheila vociferously admonished, still dead serious in her fear.
    She turned to Luca to assess his take on her predicament. A slight twitch at the corners of his mouth was all the proof she needed to know he wanted to join her friends in their merriment. She lifted an eyebrow daring him, but he appeared to remain sober for her sake.
    Just then a little girl and an adult that Sheila assumed was the girl’s mother stopped a few feet away and began to stare at her. The intensity of the child's blue–eyed gaze made Sheila squirm, and she was about to speak to the adult about the girl's blatant rudeness when the child spoke first.
    “Mommy,” the girl said, tugging on the adult’s coattail. “That lady with the dirty face is sad.”
    The girl’s poor mother gasped in horror.
    “That’s it. I’m out of here, even if I have to walk home,” Sheila stated just loud enough for those in close proximity to hear. Her attempt to rise and stomp off was thwarted by Luca’s strong arm as he increased his grip on her, effectually holding her in place.
    “Stay,” Luca commanded, earning him one of Sheila’s signature glares that could easily kindle dry wood. “Please stay?” he said in a much milder tone before standing and walking over to the mother and child. “Would you mind?” he asked the still stunned mother while holding his large hand out to the child.
    “Uh, um, I guess not,” the mother responded, her hand still clutching the front of her fleece jacket with embarrassment.
    The little girl hesitated. She looked up at her mom, who gave her a reassuring nod. Reluctantly, the child grasped Luca's hand with her small one and held on to her mom for dear life with the other. They both proceeded to accompany Luca over to the bench where Sheila sat, wondering what the hell he was up to.
    “What’s your name?” Luca asked the little girl.
    “Andrea,” she answered bashfully. She lifted her little pink finger and beckoned Luca toward her.
    Luca complied, leaning in and giving Andrea his ear.
    “Is she going to be okay?” she whispered loud enough for Sheila to hear.
    Luca righted himself. Repeating the girl’s motions, he beckoned Andrea to turn her ear toward him and leaned in close. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? She won't hurt you, and she happens to be cleaner than the two of us at the moment,” he whispered back just as loudly.
    Upon closer inspection, Sheila noticed that the girl's tiny lips were surrounded by what looked like syrup topped with dirt. Nevertheless, Sheila had to admit the girl was adorable with high brown