Linda Ford - [Three Brides, Three Cowboys 02]

by The Cowboy Father

  “All right.” He got to his feet, letting her hand slip through his fingers. “Just keep your eyes open and listen to a weather alert radio if you have one.”

  “I do at home.” She shrugged and stood so she could remain closer to him. “The way the high plains affect the paths of storms there’s no telling what will actually happen. If I get home before it starts to rain too hard, I’ll be sure to keep my radio on and watch the sky.”

  “Is there a storm cellar at your apartment?”

  “No, but there are no windows in the laundry room in the basement. If I think I need more shelter I’ll go down there.”

  “Okay. Just…”

  “What?” Her heart was already pounding when he grasped her shoulders, then leaned closer and placed a kiss on her cheek. After that, she figured it was a good thing he was supporting her. If he had not been, her knees might have buckled. And there I’d be, in a heap at his feet. Some butterfly, she reflected, almost smiling at the vivid image in her mind.

  The expression on Stan’s face grew so poignant it left Bethany breathless. In seconds, she understood the change in his character because he bent closer and kissed her again. This time, it was not a simple peck on the cheek.

  This time it was a real-life, knock-your-socks-off, write-home-to-Mother lulu. If this kiss had not left her speechless, she might have told him so.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The afternoon seemed to race by at the fire station. Stan and his fellow firefighters had checked and rechecked their gear and emergency supplies. There was no way to tell what or how much would be needed beyond normal but they tried to cover all contingencies.

  He’d been listening to the NOAA weather announcements and still knew no more than he had when he’d warned Bethany. The conditions were right for a thunderstorm with strong winds and hail. Beyond that, it was anybody’s guess.

  High Plains had suffered more than one tornado in the past, including the devastating one that had practically leveled the town in 1860. After that, its founders had rebuilt, mainly in brick and stone. Many of those sturdy edifices still stood, including the bank and trust where Bethany worked.

  The same rookie who had frozen while fighting his first fire on July 4th stuck his head in the door. “Hey, Stan. What’s the word?”

  “It doesn’t look good. You going to be okay?”

  “Me? Sure. I’ve got the system down pat now. You put the wet stuff on the red stuff and the fire goes out.”

  Stan had to chuckle. “Right. Simple, but correct.”

  “How’s the storm looking?”

  “Nasty.” He swiveled his desk chair and stood. “As long as it isn’t as strong as the one that hit here in the mid-1800s we should be fine.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that one. Guess it kind of snuck up on them, huh? We’re smarter these days. We’ve got weather satellites to keep us posted.”

  “Yes and no. Just because we know trouble is coming doesn’t mean we can avoid it completely. According to historians, that twister came from the southwest, the same direction as this storm. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be as bad as it was in the old days, of course, but I’ve weathered a few pretty nasty ones myself.”

  “Well, we can always take cover like everybody else.”

  Stan shook his head, amazed at the young man’s naive attitude. “We may duck when the worst comes through but believe me, kid, we won’t be hiding our heads while there are folks who may need our help.”

  “I knew that. I just thought…”

  “No. You weren’t thinking. This job is not nearly as glamorous as it looks in the movies or on TV. It’s hard, dangerous, grueling work. We risk our lives every time we roll to a scene. And most people expect it, so we get very little praise. Don’t plan on being on the front page of the newspaper or getting decorated for heroism by the mayor or governor.”

  Shrugging and turning to go, the rookie gave Stan a look that said he didn’t believe a word of what had just been said.

  Well, so be it. All Stan cared about, then and in the future, was doing his job to the best of his ability and serving his community.

  That, and making sure Bethany stayed safe through it all, he added, chagrined. Since he was stuck there, on duty, there wasn’t a thing he could do to help her, to look out for her personally.

  He closed his eyes and shot a quick prayer heavenward. “She’s special, Father. Watch over her and keep her safe. Please? I—I really care for her.”

  The moment the words were out of his mouth he realized that they were inadequate. He more than cared for Bethany. Heaven help him, he’d fallen in love with her.

  Not because of Amy? he asked himself. Are you really sure?

  It didn’t take him more than a heartbeat to answer, “Yes.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  On her way back to the bank after lunch, Bethany ran into Tommy Jacobs and Charlie. The boy was on his bike as usual, with Charlie running along beside him.

  “Hi,” Bethany called, waving. “How did your foster parents like the way we washed your dog?”

  Tommy pouted as he skidded to a stop at her feet. “Dumb old grown-ups. They didn’t believe me, even after I showed them how clean the white fur on his tummy was.”

  “I’m so sorry. Maybe I should have written you a note to prove we really washed him.” She eyed the gamboling dog with its lolling tongue and twinkling dark eyes. He didn’t look as if he’d rolled in the mud in the past week but there was really no way to tell since the majority of his hair was black.

  “It’s okay.” The wiry child shrugged and prepared to ride off.

  “Be careful out there,” Bethany warned, eyeing the darkening sky to the west. It was impossible to see all the way to the horizon due to the two-and three-story buildings that blocked her view, but she could see enough to tell that Stan had been right about the impending storm. If there was one thing that was predictable on the plains, it was changeable weather.

  “I know how to ride good,” Tommy insisted.

  “I don’t mean about your bike,” she said. “I mean look out for lightning and rain. There’s supposed to be a storm coming.”

  “I ain’t afraid. I like to play in the rain.” He grinned. “So does Charlie. We love mud.”

  “I can see that by looking at your sneakers.” Bethany returned his smile. “Just keep an eye on the sky, okay? You wouldn’t want your dog to get hurt, would you?”

  The boy shook his head so hard his hair ruffled. “Nope. I take good care of Charlie and he takes good care of me, too.”

  “I’m sure he does.” She paused to check her watch. “Uh-oh. I’m late for work again. Gotta go. Bye.”

  “Bye,” Tommy called after her.

  As she passed through the front door of the bank she looked back and saw him riding off, standing on the pedals, leaning the bike back and forth and making noises to pretend it was really a motorcycle.

  Kids. They could always find fun in the smallest pleasures.

  Fun? Pleasure? Oh, yes. She instantly relived Stan’s surprising kiss. Her lips still tingled and her breathing grew a bit unsteady. That long-awaited kiss had not been the way she had always imagined it would be. It had been a thousand times better.

  Only one element of their relationship continued to bother her. Everything seemed to be happening too fast. Yes, they had already been well acquainted when they had renewed their friendship, yet there was still the specter of Amy hanging over their newfound affection.

  How could Bethany be certain that Stan was not thinking of her sister when he kissed her? How would she ever know? He had remarked often about the family resemblance, so perhaps, even if he truly believed he was interested in her, he still yearned for Amy.

  Disappointed at the way her mind had twisted an awesome occurrence, Bethany sighed. Of all the men she could have fallen for, why did her heart have to belong to Stan Ellison?

  Because, truth to tell, it always had.

  Chapter Eighteen

  St
an was pacing the floor, watching the sky and listening to radio reports. The eye of the storm had passed Council Grove and was bearing down on High Plains at forty miles an hour. The wind was already blowing so hard it was starting to strip tender, green leaves from the cottonwood trees and whip the smaller branches wildly. Trash was blowing around as refuse cans were knocked over. This didn’t look good.

  He checked his watch. The bank would soon close. Perhaps Bethany would stop by the fire station on her way home. Chances were she had walked to work, meaning she wouldn’t have the protection of a car if hail started to fall while she was en route.

  Making a snap decision, he leafed through the phone book for the bank number, then quickly dialed.

  “Let me speak to Bethany Brown,” he said as soon as the operator answered.

  “I’m sorry. Our teller stations are closed for the day,” the woman said pleasantly. “Would you like to leave a message?”

  “No. I want to talk to Bethany and I want to do it now,” he said forcefully. “This isn’t bank business. This is the fire department calling.”

  “Oh, dear. Is there a problem at her apartment building?”

  “No. Just put her on the line, will you? She is still in the building, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, sir. One moment, please.”

  He heard the breathlessness in Bethany’s voice as she picked up an extension. “Hello?”

  “It’s me. Stan,” he said. “I think you should stay right where you are till the storm passes. It’s getting awfully close and you don’t want to get caught outside if it starts to hail the way I think it’s going to.”

  “What have you heard?”

  “Council Grove got hammered with nickel-and quarter-size hail even though the main part of the storm missed them. We could have it much worse.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Nobody can be positive. I’d just feel better if you promised to stay there a little longer. You don’t have your car, do you?”

  “No. It was beautiful this morning. I always walk on pretty days.”

  “Must be the butterfly in you that craves the sunshine,” Stan said, hoping to distract her by mentioning their earlier conversation.

  “Must be.” She paused, then continued, “How long do you think we should stay inside? I want to be able to tell the others and let them make educated decisions about whether or not to head for home.”

  “We should be through the worst of it in less than an hour,” Stan said soberly. “I’m not trying to be an alarmist. I just know from experience how bad some of these storms can be. I was caught in a dandy when I was a kid. Remember?”

  “Vaguely. I was too little to take anything seriously back then. Maybe that’s why you’re so uptight about the weather now.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just more prudent than some folks.” He glanced through the window at the street. “Looks like traffic is about the same as always. People are acting way too nonchalant. I hope they’re not sorry.”

  “So do I,” Bethany replied. “Okay. I’ll stay here for another hour or so, but after that, I’m going home. The probability of High Plains being hit by hail or a tornado should have been resolved by then.”

  “Call me before you go outside? Promise?” He gave her his private cell number and was relieved when she took the time to jot it down and repeat it back to him. “And, Bethany?”

  “Yes?”

  Stan hesitated. “Never mind. We’ll talk later. Good bye.”

  He’d been going to express his tender feelings, maybe even tell her that he loved her, but something had stopped him. It was one thing to think about it and quite another to actually say the words. Besides, that kind of confession should be made face-to-face. That way, if she didn’t take it well, he’d recognize the truth and know whether or not she returned his love.

  The possibility that she might not gave him actual, physical pain.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bethany stood at the wide front window of the bank and watched the rain falling. Thunder rattled the whole building and lightning was flashing so often it seemed almost continuous. The wind velocity was building. Sheets of falling water were sometimes so dense she could barely see the park across the street.

  The distant sky was as dark as evening, yet the sun would not set for four more hours. Worse, there was a band of light near the horizon, signaling the presence of a wall cloud above. Bethany knew that was a bad sign. Clouds like that often spawned tornados.

  Most of her coworkers, except for the bank manager and one other teller, had already taken the chance that they’d beat the worst of the thunderstorm and had headed for their homes. Bethany wished she’d done the same.

  Perhaps there was still time to make a run for it, she reasoned, remembering all the previous storms she’d experienced. Just because there was rain falling and perhaps hail to follow, twisters weren’t inevitable. Nothing was that predictable, especially not during the spring and summer.

  The promise she’d made to Stan nagged at her. “All right,” she muttered, disgusted with herself for heeding his dire warning when she could have been snug and safe at home all this time. “I’m leaving, whether he likes it or not.”

  She raised her voice to get the bank manager’s attention. “I’m going to make a private call, then you can unlock the door and let me out. Okay?”

  “Is it safe?” the portly man asked, frowning and mopping his brow as he peered past her. “It looks pretty nasty out there.”

  “It’s pouring rain but that’s all. And that seems to be letting up.” She used her own cell phone to call the number Stan had given her. As soon as he answered she spoke without giving him a chance to argue. “This is Bethany. I’m going home. It’s not raining as heavily as it was and I’m worn out from the waiting.”

  “Not yet. Don’t go yet.”

  “I promised I’d call and that’s what I’m doing. Don’t worry. I’ll give you another call when I’m safely inside my apartment.”

  Suddenly, the line went dead. She stared at the little phone. Was it an accidentally broken connection or had Stan hung up? If he was miffed, that was just too bad. If she wanted to go home, she was going to do so. Period. End of discussion.

  Bethany closed her cell and slipped it into her purse as she grabbed a light nylon jacket, draped it over her head and headed for the door. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  The manager seemed unduly nervous as he fiddled with his ring of keys. “I don’t know. I think we should go with our first instinct and stay off the streets.” He pointed with a shaky hand. “Look.”

  Her eyes widened. Although the rain had slacked off for the moment, the wind continued to blow. Across the street in the park, people were scattering. Many umbrellas had been blown inside out by the gale and others looked as though they were about to collapse or be torn from their owners’ grasps.

  A police car with its red-and-blue lights flashing cruised to a stop directly in front of the bank. Bethany couldn’t tell who was behind the wheel but she immediately recognized the man who jumped out of the passenger side and ran toward her.

  “Hurry! Unlock the door,” she shouted at the manager. “Let him in before he gets blown away.”

  The heavy glass door was nearly snatched out of their hands when it finally swung back. Stan pulled it closed with the other man’s help, then held it while he relocked it.

  “You can’t go out,” Stan yelled at Bethany. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “It seemed fine a few minutes ago when I phoned you. What’s going on?”

  “We’re not sure. The hail is getting bigger and stuff all over town is being smashed, including car windows. I know you’re hardheaded but no one’s head is hard enough to withstand that kind of punishment.”

  “Okay, okay. But what are you doing here? I thought you had to stay at the fire station.”

  “I got permission to ride out with the police chief. He’s going to sound his siren as soon as we’re sure there’s a tornado on the g
round.”

  “Do you think that will happen?” she asked breathlessly. Before Stan could answer, they heard the high-pitched wailing of sirens begin.

  Chapter Twenty

  There was no place Bethany wanted to be except in Stan’s arms. This dire situation left no room for bashfulness or hesitancy. If this was to be her last moment on earth, she wanted him to know exactly how much he meant to her.

  Stepping into his waiting embrace, she slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  He pulled her closer. “So am I. It was tearing me up worrying about you.”

  She noticed that he was scanning the bank’s lobby instead of giving her his full attention. “What’s wrong?”

  “This area is too exposed. Too much glass. If these front windows go they’ll tear into us like shrapnel.” With one arm around her shoulders, he hurriedly guided her toward the rear of the building.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Into the vault,” Stan said. He nodded to the manager. “Everybody come with us. If your vault can keep thieves out, it can keep out a tornado, too. Just fix it so we don’t accidentally get locked in.”

  “What if the whole building collapses?” Bethany asked him. She knew it was foolish to borrow trouble but her mind kept thinking of the worst.

  “The vault will stand against even that,” Stan assured her. He pushed her into the enormous safe ahead of the others, then followed last and swung the heavy door nearly closed with the manager’s help.

  Bethany reached out to him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Since this may be my last chance to tell you,” she began, “I want you to know I love you. I have for years.”

  To her delight and relief, he not only didn’t reject her, he smiled and replied, “I love you, too, Bethany. Not your sister or anyone else. You. I’m just sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

  “It hasn’t been that long,” she said soothingly. “We only got reacquainted a couple of weeks ago.”