Riding the Storm

by Julie Miller

  Jolene’s heart twisted into a knot. Logically she knew he was talking about their chances for survival, not any personal spin she’d put on their relationship.

  Still, she didn’t want this time with Nate to end. With just the two of them to rely on, she’d found strength and wisdom she didn’t know she possessed. She’d helped him start the healing process on those invisible wounds that cut him so deeply. They were good for each other. Good together.

  But the outside world might prove a tempting lure that could tear them apart. California was part of that outside world. No hurricanes to mess with there. There were prettier, more experienced, less impulsive women in that outside world. Women without babies to remind him of the child he couldn’t save. Nate’s life would be a lot more sane and safe and predictable away from her.

  She’d just hoped that after last night—after yesterday—he might not be so eager to leave their haven. It had probably been a foolish dream to expect a man as responsible as Nate to sit around and wait for the outside world to come to them while he enjoyed what they had for a little while longer.

  But she’d dreamed it anyway.

  Nate turned the bill of his Rangers ball cap to the back of his head and narrowed his gaze in her direction. “Why are you so quiet this morning? I’m not used to keeping up the conversation all by myself.”

  “I’m just tired, I guess.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “You kept me up kind of late last night.”

  His eyes warmed, reminding her of the tender way he’d been watching her when she awoke in his arms that morning. “Did I ever thank you for that?”

  She summoned a smile and nodded. “Twice.”

  “Thanks,” he added for good measure. He righted his cap and untied Checker’s reins. “I’d better get going. I have no idea how long this will take. And keep in mind, I’m not asking you to stay because I don’t think you’re capable of helping me. But there’s still work to do here. And I will move faster on my own.”

  Without her around to make a bad situation worse?

  She kept the honest, if uncharitable, thought to herself. “I know you’re right. And I am worried about Dad. It’d be a huge relief to hear his voice and know he was all right.”

  “I’ll make that a priority,” he promised. “And remember, you won’t be alone today. You’ve got the dogs, the horses, and hey, you’ve got Rocky. What better company could you ask for?”

  Jolene laughed at his efforts to ease her concern. “Your sense of humor needs some serious work.”

  “Give a man a break. I’m just now learning how to laugh again.”

  She could see that he was. The grim lines that had etched his face in a perpetually watchful frown when she’d first met him back at the fire station had eased into the hint of a dimple and a lazy grin.

  Maybe he’d take a piece of her with him when he went back to California. He might talk about her fondly as that one-of-a-kind pregnant virgin he’d had a brief affair with down in Texas. Hopefully, he’d laugh at some of the predicaments she’d gotten them into.

  And she prayed that he’d never know how much it would break her heart to lose him. Because Mr. Responsibility would take that burden of guilt upon his shoulders and let it weigh down his soul. He’d lose his new smile and strengthen his determination never to hurt anyone the same way again.

  That’s what a man like Nate Kellison did.

  It was one of the reasons she loved him.

  She clapped her hands together, needing to cut short the gloomy spell and send him on his way before she did something impulsive like tie him up in the house or break into tears. “You’d better mount up, California. You’re wastin’ daylight.”

  California. Oh, Lord, she’d slipped.

  His shoulders stiffened in suspicion at the nickname. “I’m not going to find you up on the roof or in the loft, am I? Those repairs can wait.”

  He’d stay if he thought she was in danger, but that wasn’t the choice she wanted him to make. Being a burden to him wasn’t exactly the romantic future she had in mind. “All my chores will be at ground level. I promise.”

  “Ground level?” he asked, looking as though he was trying to find a hidden meaning in her words that he’d missed.

  She raised her right hand. “No ladders. If I can’t fix the well pump, then I’ll start hauling water and boiling it. I’ll see what’s left to do after that.”

  “Don’t haul anything too heavy.”

  “Go.”

  “And remember to eat. A couple of snacks besides lunch.”

  “Nate.” She was actually pushing him away now, urging him toward his horse. If he still suspected something was wrong, he hadn’t guessed its cause and she wasn’t telling. “I’ll be fine.” His gaze dropped to her belly. “So will he. Now get out of here. Give my best to Lily when you see her. Tell Dad to get a cell tower hooked up and call me.”

  Nate slipped his left foot into the stirrup and swung his right leg over the saddle. He was still stiff and sore, but moving with greater ease than he had two nights ago. He adjusted his hat, pulled on his gloves and nudged Checker forward.

  He’d shooed the dogs out of the way and ridden beyond the mud pool that had once been her gravel driveway when she saw his posture stiffen. He reined in his horse and turned.

  “I’m coming back.”

  Jolene raised her voice to shout in return. “Of course, you are. I’ve already got dinner planned. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  He looked at her a moment, then spurred Checker into a spin and rode straight at her across the yard.

  Jolene retreated several steps, giving the horse plenty of room to stop. She hid her trepidation behind a joke and a smile. “You don’t like PB and J?”

  In one fluid motion, he stopped the horse beside her, reached out with his gloved hand to palm the back of her neck, bent low over the horse’s shoulder and kissed her. A quick, deep, soul-stealing kiss.

  The look in his eyes was just as potent.

  “I’m coming back.”

  He sat up straight, turned the horse and cantered away. Stunned, Jolene pressed her fingers to her mouth and barely breathed. She watched his straight, broad shoulders until he disappeared beyond the next rise.

  I’m coming back.

  Yes. But would he come back to stay?

  THE PICKUP ENGINE sputtered, then caught and roared to life. Red lights blinked on. The noisy crackle of static flooded the cab and the tuner on the two-way radio flashed through every station until it hit a clear frequency and locked into place.

  “Way to go!”

  “Yessir!”

  Nate’s relieved sigh was drowned out by a chorus of shouts from three little boys who didn’t know what the cheering was all about but who were as excited as the grown-ups around them.

  Jolene’s sweet green power truck had been hit hard by Damon. Pummeled by debris, the body was totaled. But more importantly, winds had taken the radio antenna and shredded the connecting wires. Water had swamped the engine and shorted out the battery. Since there was no auto repair store on the corner to walk to for replacement parts, Nate had scavenged what he needed from Lily’s car and Deacon’s old farm truck. With Wes Mathis’s help, he’d pieced the engine together and gotten both it and the radio running.

  He listened to the voices on the line with the dispatcher in Turning Point. They were connected to the world again. “Whaddya know? The damn thing works.”

  Deacon slapped Nate on the back, then reached out with his good arm to shake his hand. “You’ve got a habit of savin’ the day, boy. Glad to know you.”

  Nate nodded his appreciation for the older man’s grudging respect.

  “Come on, you three yahoos!” Gabe, Jr., Seth and Aaron Browning circled around the old cowboy with an excitement that rivaled Broody and Shasta at suppertime. “I promised your mama you’d be inside taking a nap by now. You don’t want to get me into trouble, do ya?” They paraded up the porch and into the house, and Nate suspected Deacon would be
napping right along with them.

  Cindy threw her arms around Wes’s neck and kissed him in congratulations. Nate couldn’t help but shake his head and grin at their not-so-private celebration. In the hour since he’d arrived, he’d noticed that the newlyweds didn’t need their expensive hotel room in San Antonio to act like a couple of honeymooners. Not that they were doing anything they shouldn’t in front of the kids, but they’d grown up and grown closer in the past couple of days.

  Like Jolene and Mitch and a lot of other people around Turning Point, he suspected, Wes and Cindy had risen to the challenge Damon had hurled at them and come through the tragedy with plenty to be proud of. And from the number of times they’d found a way to hold hands or sneak a kiss, all squabbles had been forgiven and the two were clearly very much in love.

  Nate waved goodbye as they excused themselves for some more intense congratulating. He leaned back in the seat behind the steering wheel and thought of Jolene. The weather had rinsed her scent out of the truck, but he could close his eyes and breathe it in through his imagination. Smells of home and life and laughter.

  He could feel her in his body, too. The enthusiastic way she reached for him and held on. The gentle stroke of her fingers across his face.

  He could taste her in his mouth. Hot, sweet, willing. Equal parts sass and sugar.

  He could see her in his mind. An unruly strand of sun-kissed hair blowing across her cheek. Soft, pale skin. Everywhere. He could see her crying. Arguing. Smiling. Giving herself to him. Healing him.

  He could hear her voice and know her soft, gentle words were the truest balm his soul had ever known. He could hear her laughing, or crying out his name at the height of uninhibited passion, and know he’d never experienced any bigger adrenaline rush than the time he’d spent with his angel.

  Something hard and stubborn squeezed the breath from his lungs and shattered his restless doubts into a billion pieces.

  Nate slipped his hand into his front pocket and fingered the smooth gold ring Grandpa Nate had left him. He knew the warmth he felt in the metal band had to do with body heat and August temps.

  But if he thought a little less, believed a little more…maybe the soul he shared with that wise old man was trying to tell him something.

  Nate slowly opened his eyes and scanned the devastated Texas landscape. Not so many days ago he’d left California, a man without a home, a man with a heavy conscience. Not quite a whole man. The life he’d put on hold for his family and work had passed him by in Courage Bay.

  But he’d found it in Texas.

  In the dazzling smile of one blue-eyed angel.

  A hopeful energy seeped into his thoughts and spread its renewing strength into his veins.

  He needed to think about this.

  But not too hard.

  The ring practically burned in his hand. “Yeah, I get it. I get it.”

  Nate smiled, silently thanking his wonderful grandfather, who’d taken him in as a baby and given him the home he’d needed then. But the time had come to find a home of his own.

  Hell. He’d thrown every other caution to the wind. Maybe there was something he could learn from Jolene’s impulsive nature.

  Nate picked up the radio and pressed the call button. The excited dispatcher, Ruth, shouted out her office door. “Mitch! It’s them. Mitch!” Then she dutifully took down the information from Nate’s report. Half a minute later a door slammed. Ruth’s voice grew faint. “Sweetie, they’re all right. Nate says they’re all right.”

  He heard Mitch’s hoarse voice in the background. “Let me on that line.”

  There was a flurry of movement.

  “Here.”

  “Thanks, hon.”

  Then, “Kellison?”

  “I hear you loud and clear, Mitch.”

  “Thank God. How’s Jolene? The flooding’s bad out your way. Are you safe at the house?”

  Nate grinned. Mitch didn’t know whether to be boss or father right now. He had a feeling Mitch had done enough worrying for both roles. “I’m at the Rock-a-Bye. I forded a stream along the property line that had gone down enough to be passable. Took us about an hour to get the radio in Jolene’s truck working. Jolene’s back at the Double J. Fit and feisty as ever. I don’t think even a hurricane could bring her down.”

  “That’s my girl. Headstrong, but tough.”

  And funny and sexy and full of heart. And worth every bruise and bandage on his body. But he couldn’t say that to Mitch. Instead he asked, “How’s the damage there in town?”

  “Bad. The ranch?”

  “It needs work. New roofs and windows. A shed. Some steel fencing. When the water goes down, we’ll see if there’s anything left of the road, but she’ll definitely need to lay a new driveway. And the well. She’s trying to get that running again today.”

  “My God. And everyone’s okay?”

  Nate ignored his own battle scars. Mitch had switched to father mode. He wanted to hear about his daughter and grandson. Nate quoted the words she’d told him time and again, even if he hadn’t always believed them. “Jolene and the baby are fine.”

  After a quick accounting of their patients at the Rock-a-Bye, and a status report on his three friends and fellow volunteers from Courage Bay, Nate needed Mitch to be a father again. Sitting up straight in his seat, as if facing the man himself, Nate put forth a proposition. “When we get back to town, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you, Mitch. I’d be curious to know whether you’d be interested in hiring a paramedic to help Turning Point get back on its feet until your doctor comes back. Or even to stay on full-time.”

  Mitch’s ravaged voice was succinct, revealing a bit of curiosity and suspicion. “You want to move to Turning Point?”

  Technically, he wanted to move to a ranch a few miles west of Turning Point. But he wasn’t going to ask Jolene’s father that kind of question over the radio. Out loud he answered, “Yeah. There’s something about Texas that’s growing on me. And I imagine you’ll be short-staffed for a while.”

  “I’ll think about it. We’ll talk later.” That was the boss’s answer. But Mitch had to make one last fatherly check. Nate respected the man for it. “Everything’s all right with Jolene, isn’t it? I mean, she’s…happy?…With your decision?”

  “I haven’t really discussed it with her yet.”

  “I see. Well, I expect my daughter to be safe and happy before we talk about that job.”

  Nate understood the underlying message. He wouldn’t be particularly amenable to anyone who hurt Jolene, either. “Yes, sir.” He looked through the cracked windshield and took note of the sun turning into a bright orange ball as it sank toward the western horizon. “I’d better get back to the ranch. She seems to have a penchant for getting herself into situations when no one’s keeping an eye on her.”

  Mitch laughed, the tension eased. “You are getting to know my daughter. Good luck, son.”

  Nate signed off the radio and turned off the engine. It was time to saddle Checker and go home.

  Go home. Nate wasn’t thinking California or the rolling, pristine hills of the Whispering Dawn. He was thinking of a few hundred storm-ravaged acres on the Coastal Plain of southeastern Texas.

  He was thinking of the blue-eyed angel who didn’t believe he was coming back.

  HE WASN’T COMING BACK.

  The sun was setting, dinner—such as it was—was on the table, but he wasn’t coming back.

  Jolene wandered through the empty house. She opened the front door, stepped out onto the porch and scanned the southern horizon one more time for any sign of a man on horseback.

  No horse. No ball cap. No tight white T-shirt. No Nate.

  Only the bellowing cry of Rocky stirring restlessly in his pen. Jolene leaned against a post and watched him walk circles inside the fencing, wondering what he could sense that she could not.

  “What’s with you?” she teased, as if that big brute would answer her. “Did you get a whiff of some pretty little h
eifer walkin’ by?”

  Or did he sense his savior and keeper, Nate, approaching?

  Jolene turned and looked one more time. No Nate.

  With a huffy sigh that sounded as if she cared less than she really did, she went back inside. She’d kept herself busy all day, doing whatever she could to keep herself from thinking about that California cowboy who could break her heart.

  The pump needed a new part, but she’d toted and boiled and bottled enough safe water to flood her own tributary. The house was clean, the yard clean, the horses had been out and the dogs had been brushed and spoiled. Sandwiches were made and a can of soup bubbled over the grill.

  Now there was nothing to do but wait. And worry.

  Since he’d been gone so long, she hoped he had gotten through to Lily’s and wasn’t crawling through a ditch somewhere, trying to limp his way back for help. Maybe he’d arrived at Lily’s, gotten her truck going, found a decent road and made it all the way into town. Maybe he was already saying goodbye to her dad, making an airline reservation, and asking someone else to drive back and rescue her.

  “Stop it.” Her imagination wasn’t being fair to Nate. He was too responsible a man to completely abandon her. He’d promised he would be back. That last kiss had said…“Oh, to hell with this.”

  Jolene immediately cringed and patted the baby. “Sorry. Mama’s a little stressed. You’d like that nice man to come see us again, wouldn’t you? Even if he’s just our friend, we want him to—”

  The rogue coyote howled outside, its loud, eerie call sending a chill down her spine and raising goose bumps beneath the sleeves of her oversize orange polo shirt. Rocky snorted and stamped the ground. Jolene ran to the door. How close to the house was he?

  The coyote cried out again, a mournful and high-pitched howl. She imagined the yips that followed sounded antsy. Unhappy. Hungry.

  Then she heard the barking. High-pitched, low-pitched. Fast and furious. Shasta and Broody had sounded the alarm.

  “Oh, no.” Jolene’s breath stopped up in her lungs. “I didn’t tie them up.”