“We’ll stay here,” Cookie said. “You be careful.” The older woman looked down at Sammy. “I put some pastries in here. Would you like some?” She pulled up the sack and gave the child a brilliant smile, which Sammy returned.
“I’d love some, Cookie!” the child replied. “Thank you!”
Proud that the little girl was handling the situation well, Sarah jogged to the stairs going back up to the kitchen and ascended quickly.
She raced through the kitchen and once she was in the foyer, she pulled in the deepest breath she could and screamed out for the dog. “Sandy! Sandy! Sandy!”
Sarah ran around the stairs and yelled the dog’s name up them, cupping her mouth with one hand. She went to the other side of the stairs and yelled for the dog down that hallway, into the south wing.
When she got no response of barks or the sound of running paws, Sarah twisted around and ran to the front door. She stopped there, one hand on the knob and the other on the flat wood in front of her. Her heart hadn’t stopped its pounding. The wind outside was horrendous, making the windows rattle along with the rain slapping down on the glass.
It had to be pretty bad because the windows were usually protected from weather and rain by the porch roof. But it was so chaotic, the wind was whipping the water underneath the porch, slamming it against the building.
She took several quick deep breaths as she gathered her courage before yanking the door open. She had to fight to hold on to it because as soon as it wasn’t latched, it flew open with the force of the wind, almost pulling out of her hand.
She pushed her body through the opening and turned around, gripping the doorknob with both hands. She struggled to pull it and was glad when it finally closed all the way and latched shut.
She kept her hand on the knob so she wouldn’t be blown off her feet, putting one hand up to block the water droplets slapping against her skin with the force of the heavy wind behind them.
She did not want to be out here looking for that dog. She wanted to be safe inside with Sammy and Cookie and Bobby.
But she’d made a promise and she wasn’t going to break it. Sammy would be crushed if something happened to her favorite dog, her best animal friend.
She pushed herself against the door and cupped her mouth with both hands.
“Sandy!” she yelled out with all her strength.
Her voice was lost in the howling wind. The dog would never hear her. She wished she had a dog whistle.
She was never going to find that dog in this.
Chapter 13
Bobby left the house behind with a trepidatious heart. He could feel the danger mounting as the tornado closed in on them. The funnel twisted and turned, the flow of air causing it to bow out at times, especially when it was changing direction.
The constant flashing lightning lit up the sky so often he could keep track of where the funnel was and in which direction it was moving. He would have given anything for God to make it daytime again. He thought about the time in the Bible when God had done just that for His people.
He glanced up. “I could use some help, Lord,” he mumbled.
He could hear the horses getting restless in the corral and ran to the barn, throwing open the door. The first thing he did was go to the dogs, who were on their feet but not barking with panic. They both looked anxious, both with their tongues hanging out, their eyes steady on him.
“You boys looking good,” he said as he went to them to untie them. “You know where to go. We’ve done this before, haven’t we? Come on, let’s go, let’s go.” He kept his voice calm as he talked to them, amazed by how focused on his face they both were. They were intelligent dogs that had helped him on the farm with the horses and the few cows he had the entire time he’d been on the ranch. He’d gotten them as puppies and trained them himself, along with Sandy. They were good dogs and he cared a lot for them.
He finished unleashing them and watched as they dashed to the door. They would go to the cellar and be let in by someone there. They knew how to bark and scratch at the door. Hopefully, Sarah would hear them.
Bobby ran through the barn and went out a narrow door in the back that led to the corral. He ran through the small area to the gate and yanked the rope holding it shut up and over the pole. He swung the gate open, taking wide steps to make sure it was secured to the other side so it would stay open, no matter what.
He stood back while his horses ran out into the pasture to find shelter and stay out of the way of the tornado. Once they were all gone, he left the gate open so they could return when they felt it was safe.
He checked on his chickens and wished them well. He couldn’t pick up and move the chicken coop, so he could only pray the tornado didn’t rip it up and kill all his chickens. He was amused to see the rooster walking proudly through the coop, as if he was there to keep the hens safe from the rushing winds.
Bobby left the chicken coop, praying for its safety, and ran toward the bunk house, looking at the funnel as it swerved back and forth across the land in the distance. He felt for a moment like God was keeping it from him long enough to let him make things safe.
In the next moment, he was pelted on the head by something small and hard. It felt like a rock had been thrown at him. Panic hit his heart as soon as he heard the hard sound of hail hitting the ground, the roofs of the buildings around him, especially the tin roof on the bunkhouse. The sound was almost deafening.
He was closest to the bunkhouse and was astounded when the door opened and Steven appeared in the doorway, beckoning to him. He was yelling something. His mouth was moving frantically, along with his hands.
Bobby couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he didn’t have to. He could tell by the mouthed words and the gestures that Steven was telling him to get in the bunkhouse immediately.
It didn’t take long for Bobby to get there. He passed Steven by and his friend slammed the door shut. Bobby bent over and breathed hard, his hands on his knees.
“It’s bad out there, ain’t it?” he heard from the back of the small building. He glanced up to see two of his crew sitting on the cots that lined each side of the long room.
“Yep,” he responded. “What are you all doing here? Especially you?” He looked directly at Steven. “Why aren’t you with your family? We had all this preparation done earlier today, didn’t we?”
Steven nodded. “Yeah, but I like to be thorough. And besides, Clara told me I had to.”
The four men chuckled with little humor. Bobby looked at Nate and Adam, two brothers he’d hired to work the ranch for him. It was Nate’s first season as a ranch hand and Adam’s second. Adam’s first job hadn’t been for Bobby but so far, he was proving to be a strong and capable employee who worked hard. His brother was also a capable worker. But he was less inclined to do a good job than his brother and would rather sit by a pond and draw in his sketchbook.
Regardless, Bobby found them to be pleasant young men and was glad he’d hired them.
“What are you two doing here?”
Nate gave him a direct look. “We ain’t got anywhere else to go. This is where we sleep.”
“Well, you can’t stay in here during this,” Bobby said. “Come to the cellar with us. You won’t be safe here. You’ll be safe there.”
Nate, who was just 18 years old, shot to his feet. “We should go now. Before it gets worse out there. Before that thing comes through here and kills us all.”
“It’s not gonna come through and kill us all,” his brother rebuked him, then turned his frightened eyes to Bobby. “Right, boss?”
Bobby nodded. “That’s right, Adam. It won’t if we get the hell out of this bunkhouse and get in the cellar. But it’s not on top of us yet. I saw it heading to the east, so it might pass us. I don’t want to take any chances, though.”
“We can’t go out there with the hail coming down like that,” Nate said. “It’ll hurt. We might get hit with something big flying through the air. I don’t want to get hit by flying c
ow or something.”
Adam laughed curtly and without humor. “You think of the wildest things, Nate. That ain’t gonna happen and you know it. Stop scarin’ yourself. We can get through this hail if we run fast enough. Ain’t gonna hurt that bad. Don’t be a baby.”
Nate’s face turned red with anger. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. “I ain’t bein’ a baby!” he replied in a heated voice. “I’m bein’ real. I don’t want to get hurt. I’m safer in here till the hail stops.”
Bobby watched them bicker, his own irritation rising in his chest. He pushed it down, not wanting to add more tension to the situation.
“That’s enough, boys,” he said, calmly. “We don’t have much choice. If we want to get out of this alive, we gotta take a run for it. I’m pretty sure the hail will stop before the tornado comes through here. And like I said, it wasn’t coming in this direction last I looked. You two stay calm and I’ll tell you when it’s safe to go.”
He went back to the door, having caught his breath and calmed himself some. Steven looked at him like he had lost his mind. “What are you doing?” Steven asked.
“I’m gonna check,” Bobby replied, giving the older man a confused look. “Surely you don’t think we can stay in here and be safe from that thing?”
“Just watch your head,” Steven said, in a serious tone. “You could get hurt, Nate’s right about that.”
Bobby didn’t have to look at the young man to know he was probably giving his brother a satisfied look. Once again, Bobby had to push down his annoyance. The situation was too dire to let petty irritation cause chaos and lack of cooperation.
Without responding to Steven’s concern, Bobby cracked the door, fighting the heavy wind that wanted to shove it all the way open and knock Bobby off his feet.
He stood firmly still, planting his feet where they were and bracing his body against the torrent of wind. He went through the door and yanked it shut behind him, with the help of Steven on the other side. Holding on to the exterior wall of the bunkhouse, as if it would keep him from flying away, Bobby rounded the building, staring out at the horizon where the funnel cloud was still swirling, running its way back and forth over the land.
Bobby lifted one hand and shielded his eyes from the rain pelting against him. The hail was still coming down, but it was lighter than before, and the smaller pebbles felt more like someone was throwing wet sand on him.
His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the tornado make a sudden turn. It looked like it was heading directly for them now. A flash of lightning struck through the middle, looking like it hit the ground somewhere. He heard a loud crash.
He spun around and forced himself through the wind to get back to the bunkhouse. He threw open the door and yelled for the men to get out.
“Go to the cellar! Now! It’s headed this way!”
“It might turn away!” Nate yelled in a forlorn voice. “It might not come here!”
“Get up, Nate!” Adam barked, grabbing his brother by the arm and pulling him to stand on his feet again. “Let’s go! Boss says we need to go, we go! Get! Get!”
Adam shoved his brother ahead of him and Nate ran through the door after Steven. Without questioning anything, Nate bolted after the foreman, following him to the back of the house where the cellar doors were. Adam was close behind, giving Bobby a grateful and regretful look at the same time.
Bobby just nodded at the young man, patting him quickly on the arm as he passed.
“We’ll all be fine,” he said, glancing back into the bunkhouse as if he could possibly have missed another human being or animal hidden in there.
He slammed the door shut, hoping the tornado wouldn’t take any of his buildings. The wind blasted against him, almost knocking him off his feet. He ran around the bunkhouse and headed for the cellar. He was about to pass the front porch when he saw Sarah run out from the entrance, the wind whipping her dark hair around her head.
Anger coursed through him, causing his stomach to tighten. He clenched his jaw and turned in mid-run, heading for the woman.
“Sarah!” he screamed into the howling wind. “Sarah! What are you doing?”
Before she could come off the porch, he was at the bottom of the steps, going up fast. He grabbed her by both arms and glared at her beautiful, terrified face.
“Sarah! What are you doing? Why are you out here? Where’s Sammy?” He asked the last question with terror in his voice. Had something happened to Sammy? Was Sarah coming out to tell him she was missing or hurt?
Relief flooded him when Sarah shook her head emphatically. “Sammy is fine, Bobby. She’s fine. It’s Sandy. She says I have to find Sandy.”
Bobby scowled angrily. “Sandy? That dog wasn’t in her room?” More irritation rose inside of him. None of them had time for this, especially with the tornado knocking on their door.
Sarah shook her head again. “Sammy won’t stay down there if her dog isn’t there. You know how she is about him. We have to find him. I can’t go back without Sandy.”
Bobby gripped her arms tightly and then loosened his grip, afraid he would hurt her or leave bruises. “No. You go back. I will find the dog.”
To his mounting frustration, Sarah continued shaking her head. “No, I can’t go back without the dog and you. I don’t want you to get hurt. I won’t know you’re safe unless I stay with you.”
“There’s no time to argue about this!” Bobby yelled. “If you have to come, then let’s go and do it now.”
“Maybe he’s in the barn,” Sarah suggested as they went down the steps into the heavy rain once more. Bobby was glad the hail had stopped, but that just meant the tornado was closer than ever. He kept his eyes on the horizon, watching as it spun closer and closer to his ranch. He twisted around, cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling for the dog as loud as he could.
The loud wind drowned out his calls. He knew it to be true because he couldn’t hear his own voice and when he turned to look at Sarah, who was only a few feet away from him, he couldn’t hear her calling out, either, though it was obvious that was what she was doing.
He felt her sudden grip on his arm and turned his head to look at her. She was pointing frantically back toward the house. He looked back at the massive building, thinking if the dog was on the front porch or looking through a window, he would be mad.
But Sandy wasn’t inside or on the front porch. He was under the porch, his body wedged in a piece of broken lattice. It looked like he was struggling to get to safety when he’d gotten stuck. He was barking, but the sound was lost in the fury of the wind.
Bobby began to run back to the dog, struggling against the blowing force of the wind. He tried to yell to Sarah, but she couldn’t hear him and was making her way to Sandy without looking at him.
They both made it to the broken porch lattice at the same time. When Bobby reached in to grab the dog, the animal bit at him in its panic. He quickly patted the dog’s head and tried to speak soothingly, which was nearly impossible when it was necessary to yell to be heard.
Sandy yelped and gave him pleading eyes. He tried to give the same look back, wondering if the animal would understand he was only trying to help.
He looked over his shoulder at Sarah, who was bent at the waist, watching what he was doing.
“Get back to the cellar!” he yelled at her. “I’ll get the dog. Tell Sammy I’m bringing him. Get yourself down there, now!”
“But I don’t want to leave you!” Sarah called back to him, concern written on her face.
Daring to Start Again: An Inspirational Historical Romance Book Page 12
