She said, “We have wells for the stock. But for this house and Gage’s place, we have a water tank that taps an underground spring higher up on this hill. The floodwaters wouldn’t have reached that far. So the water here, in the house, is safe.”
“That’s good. A lot of valley wells are going to need disinfecting. Any source of clean water is great news.”
She nodded. “And in town, they get water from above the falls. So they should be all right, too, shouldn’t they, at least on the north side of the creek?” He shrugged. She knew what he was thinking. Who could say what they would find in town? And what about his family’s place? “I know you probably want to head over to the Triple T....”
“Yeah. But let’s check out your brother’s house first, and then see about getting something to eat.”
Gage’s house. She realized she didn’t want to go there.
But she did it anyway. And she was glad, again, for Collin’s presence at her side. The house was locked up. They looked in the windows. It was bad. The waterline went three feet up the walls, but the moisture had wicked higher still in ugly, muddy little spikes. Gage’s furniture was beyond saving, soggy and stained, the stuffing popping out.
“Can we get to the propane tank?” Collin asked. “Better to be safe than sorry when it comes to a possible gas leak.” She showed him the way. They were able to turn it off from outside. Then he said, “Come on. There’s nothing more we can do here right now.”
They went back to her parents’ house and found plenty to eat in the pantry. She filled Buster’s food bowl and the hungry dog quickly emptied it. After the meal, she took the perishables out of the fridge and put them in a bucket in the front yard. The two pigs went right to work on the treat.
By then it was still early, a little after seven. Collin suggested they make use of the safe water source and take showers before they left. There was just no way to guess the next time they’d have a chance to clean up a little. As at Gage’s place, the tank was heated by propane, so they even had hot water.
Willa chose from some of her own old clothes that her mom had stored for her in a box under the stairs. She got clean jeans, a fresh T-shirt and a pair of worn but sturdy lace-up work boots to wear. For Collin, she found an ancient purple Jimi Hendrix Experience shirt that belonged to her dad, a pair of her dad’s boots that were a pretty decent fit, and some trusty bib overalls. She also gave him a towel, a toothbrush, shave cream and a disposable razor. He took the guest bathroom. She used the master bath, and she made it quick.
Still, as she stood before the steamy bathroom mirror wrapped in one of her mother’s fluffy towels, combing the tangles out of her wet hair, she couldn’t help but think that Collin was just down the hall in the other bathroom, possibly naked.
Or if he wasn’t by now, he had been a few minutes ago.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and glared at her own reflection. “Get your mind off Collin naked,” she told her steamy image in an angry whisper. “Seriously. You should get help, Willa Christensen.”
And that struck her as funny, for some reason. The idea that she needed counseling over Collin Traub. She laughed. And then she pulled herself together and pinned her still-wet hair into a knot at the back of her head.
A few minutes later, they were out in the kitchen again, deciding what to take with them when they left.
She didn’t tell him so, but he looked sexy even in overalls. He’d used the razor she’d given him and his dark stubble was gone, his hair still wet, but minus the dried mud from the flood.
Before they left, they filled a couple of gallon-size plastic containers with water. She stuffed a backpack with a few personal items. Her mom had a key to Willa’s house in town and she took that, since hers was lost somewhere in her mud-filled car. She also grabbed a leash and a plastic container of food for Buster. She would have grabbed her dad’s first aid kit, but Collin said he had one in his pickup.
“You want to wade out to your car?” Collin asked her. “See if maybe we can find your purse or your keys?”
It was way out there in the middle of that muddy field. And it didn’t look promising to her. “We just got dry boots,” she reminded him. “Let it go.”
Collin didn’t argue. She figured he was probably anxious to get to the Triple T.
They locked up the house again and headed for his truck, which waited at the top of the road where he’d left it. Buster hopped in the back and they climbed in the cab.
His cell was stuck in one of the cup holders. He tried it. “Still no signal.”
Willa hooked her seat belt. He started the engine, pulled a U-turn and off they went.
It took them over an hour to get to the Triple T. The roads were washed out in several places and they had to find a way around the trouble spots. There was soggy, broken stuff strewn randomly wherever the water had risen, not to mention swamped, abandoned vehicles. Willa tried to take heart that they were all only things.
Collin played the truck’s radio for news. Roads and bridges were out everywhere. Any number of small towns on the western side of the state from Butte north had sustained serious damage. A third of the state had been designated a disaster area and there were constant warnings—about staying off the roads as much as possible, about exercising caution in flooded buildings, about the danger of snakes and the hazards of rats. About steering clear of downed power lines.
At the Triple T, all the buildings were above the waterline and undamaged, but there would still be one heck of a cleanup to deal with. The hands who’d been taking care of the place were there and safe. Willa told them how to get into her parents’ house to get fresh water for the next day or so, until they could disinfect the wells. They said they would check the stock for her as soon as they’d dealt with the animals on the Triple T.
Once Collin seemed satisfied that the hands had things under control, he said, “We should get going, go on into town.”
She caught his arm before they got in the cab.
He stopped and turned to look at her. “Yeah?” His skin was so warm under her hand. Smooth flesh, hard muscles beneath. She felt suddenly shy with him and jerked her hand away. He frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“I, well, I was just thinking that I’ll bet you really want to go back up the mountain to check on things at your place. You could just drop me off when we get to Falls Street and I can hitch a ride in.”
He stuck his fists into the front pockets of her dad’s overalls and tipped his head to the side. “What the hell, Willa? I’m not leaving you alone on the street.”
His words warmed her. But still. She really did need to stop taking advantage of his kindness to her.
Kindness.
Incredible. She’d been so busy judging him as a heartless, undisciplined sex maniac for all these years, she’d never had a clue what a softy he really was. She shook her head. “Oh, come on now. It’s Rust Creek Falls. We both know I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“We don’t know what’s going on since last night. And I don’t want you wandering around alone.”
“Collin, I would hardly wander. And I know everyone in town, so I won’t by any stretch of the imagination be alone.”
“I’m coming with you. I want to be with you when you check on your house.” He said the words in a cautious tone. They both knew where her house was: directly in the path of the water. She was already resigned to the fact that it had to be flooded and was hoping that at least some of her clothing and furniture might be salvageable.
“Honestly, I can handle it. I was pretty shell-shocked yesterday, I know. But I’m over that. I’m ready to face whatever comes. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He was scowling now. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
She fell back a step. “But I’m not. I just thought...”
He caught her arm with his calloused hand. It felt so good, his touch. And his grip was so strong. “What?” he demanded. “You thought what?”
&n
bsp; She looked up at him, at his smoldering dark eyes and those lips that seemed like they were made for kissing a woman and she wondered what he would do if she kissed him. The idea made her feel both embarrassed and giddy. She almost giggled.
“Willa,” he demanded. “What is going on with you all of a sudden?”
Now she was thinking about earlier that morning. About waking up with her hand where it shouldn’t have been—about how he’d been turned on.
Get real, Willa. Just because he became aroused didn’t mean he was dying to have sex with her in particular. It was simple biology, and she needed to remember that.
And if he wanted to keep on being kind to her, well, maybe she’d just let him. Maybe she’d just go right on taking advantage of Collin Traub and enjoying every minute of it. “Nothing is ‘going on’ with me. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not.”
“So...you don’t mind going into town, then?”
“It’s not about minding. It’s what I planned to do. People will need help. They’ll need every able-bodied man.”
“And woman,” she reminded him.
“Right.” He had the good sense to agree.
She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning up at him like some addled fool and said, “Well, fair enough, then. I was just, um, checking.”
He seemed to realize suddenly that he was gripping her arm—and let go. “Checking.” Now he looked suspicious.
She put on her most innocent expression. “Uh-huh. Nothing wrong with checking, making sure you’re okay with what’s going on.”
“If I’m not okay, you’ll know it.”
“Well, then, I’ll stop checking.”
“Good. Can we go now?”
She had that silly urge to grin again. Must be the stress of all she’d been through since yesterday. Yeah. Right. That must be it.
* * *
The trip into Rust Creek Falls was as booby-trapped with obstacles as the ride to the Triple T had been.
There was the smell of smoke in the air. It wasn’t just from wood fires in stoves and fireplaces. They heard the sirens, saw the roiling smoke in the distance. On the south side of town, some homes had caught fire. Willa prayed her house wasn’t one of them—and then she put her house out of her mind and prayed that no lives were endangered by the fires.
Other travelers were on the road by then, most of whom they recognized. Everyone seemed to have somewhere important to go. People waved and honked, but nobody pulled over to talk about what they’d been through or exchange information about the disaster. Collin had the radio on. All the way there, they listened to advice on how to deal with the aftermath of the Great Independence Day Flood.
When they finally got to Falls Street on the southeastern edge of town, they had to circle around and take other roads farther east and then work their way back in. It was nothing but mud, pools of water, swamped, abandoned vehicles and way too much debris south of the creek. The buildings they saw before they turned east were still standing, but bore the telltale signs of water damage within.
Eventually, they reached Sawmill Street and turned west again. The water level was way down from flood stage and the bridge appeared intact. Collin pulled the pickup to the shoulder before they crossed it. They both got out to have a look, to make sure that crossing would be safe. Buster jumped out to follow them.
But then a couple of pickups came rolling across from the town side. Behind the wheel of the second truck was a rancher they both recognized, Hank Garmond. Hank owned a nice little spread at the southwestern edge of the valley.
He pulled to a stop. “Willa. Collin. I see you’re both in one piece and still breathing. Could be worse, eh? I’m headin’ back to my place. We still got a house, but we lost the barn and sheds. Haven’t started counting cattle yet. I just stopped in at Crawford’s to try and get a few supplies to tide us over.” Crawford’s General Store, on North Main, was a town landmark. The store sold everything from basic foodstuffs to farm supplies, hardware and clothing. “Shelves are already lookin’ pretty bare in there.”
Collin asked, “How bad is it?”
“In town? Power’s out, and all the phones. North of the creek is okay, from what I heard. No flooding, the water supply unaffected. South is not lookin’ good. Commercial Street Bridge is washed out. There’s damage to the Main Street Bridge. People are bypassing it. We still got this bridge though.” He pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. “Praise the Lord for small favors.” Very small favors, Willa couldn’t help thinking. True, it was pretty much what she and Collin had thought it would be, but somehow, to hear Hank confirm their suspicions made it all the more horribly real. “And then there’s what happened to Hunter McGee.” Hunter McGee was the mayor.
“What?” Willa demanded.
“Tree fell on that old SUV of his. So happened he was in the SUV at the time.”
Willa respected Mayor McGee. He was a born leader, a real booster of education and had planned and promoted several school-related fund-raising events. “My Lord,” she cried. “Was he hurt?”
“The tree fell on the hood. Not a scratch on him.” Hank resettled his hat on his head and Willa felt relief. But then Hank added, “Must have scared the you-know-what right out of him. He had a heart attack.”
Willa put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no...”
“Oh, yeah. It was over real quick for Mayor McGee.”
“Over?” Willa’s heart sank. “You—you mean he’s...?”
Hank nodded. An SUV and another pickup came across the bridge. The occupants waved as they drove by. Hank said somberly, “They took him to Emmet’s house. Emmet pronounced him DOA.” Emmet dePaulo, a nurse-practitioner, ran the town clinic. “Clinic’s flooded, in case you were wondering.”
Willa and Collin exchanged grim glances. They weren’t surprised. The clinic was south of Main. “Emmet and a couple of his neighbors waded in there and saved what equipment and supplies they could first thing this morning. Luckily, Emmet had a lot of his medical stuff stored on the second floor and the water didn’t make it that high. He’s set up an emergency clinic at his house, for now.”
“They got the volunteer fire guys out on search and rescue?” Collin asked.
Hank shrugged. “Can’t say. I ain’t heard of anybody dead, hurt bad or stranded...’ceptin’ Mayor McGee, I mean. Rest his soul. But I did hear that some county trucks brought in salvage-and-rescue equipment and sandbags yesterday before the levee broke. This morning, the town council put together an emergency crew to patch up the places where the water got through. So that’s taken care of for now. And you can just have a look at the creek. Water level’s back to normal range.”
Collin gave a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, one good thing about breaks in the levee. They tend to bring the water level way down.”
“That they do,” Hank concurred. “Plus, there’s no rain in the forecast for at least the next week. So we’re unlikely to have a repeat of what happened yesterday—oh, and the town council called a meeting at noon in the town hall to talk cleanup and such. Wish I could be there, but I got way too much cleanup of my own out at my place and I need to get after it. Bought the bleach I needed, at least. I can disinfect my well.” Hank tipped his hat.
“You stay safe and take it slow on the road, Hank,” Collin said.
“Will do. You keep the faith, now.” The rancher rolled on by.
Collin put his arm around her. “You’re lookin’ kind of stricken, Willa.”
She leaned into him, because she could. She needed someone to lean on at that moment. And Collin was so solid. So warm. So very much alive. “I’d been letting myself hope that at least no one had died—and I really liked Mayor McGee.”
“I hear you. Hunter was a good man and this town could sure use him about now.” He pulled her a little closer in the shelter of his arm and turned them both back to the pickup, Buster at their heels. The dog jumped in back again and they got in
the cab.
As they drove across the bridge, Willa tried not to dread what might be waiting for them on the other side.
Chapter Four
It didn’t look so awfully bad, Willa told herself as they drove along Sawmill Street. In fact, there on the northern edge of town, things seemed almost normal. Willa spotted a couple of downed trees and some flattened fences, but nothing like the devastation they’d witnessed coming in.
When they turned onto Main Street going south, they saw that the Crawford store parking lot was packed, people going in—and coming out mostly empty-handed. She supposed she shouldn’t be all that surprised. It wouldn’t take long to clear out the shelves of emergency supplies if everyone in town and most of the valley’s ranchers showed up all at once and grabbed whatever they could fit in a cart.
The Community Church had its doors wide open. People sat on the steps there or stood out under the trees in front. Most of them looked confused. And lost.
“Shouldn’t the Red Cross be showing up any minute?” she asked hopefully. “And what about FEMA and the National Guard?”
Collin grunted. “With a lot of the state in this condition, the phones out and the roads blocked, we’ll be real lucky if a few supply trucks get to us in the next day or two.” And then he swore low. “Isn’t that the mayor’s SUV?” The old brown 4x4 was half in, half out of the town hall parking lot. It had definitely come out the loser in the encounter with the downed elm tree. The tree lay square across what was left of the hood. The driver’s door gaped open. A couple of boys in their early teens were peering in the windows.
“That’s just too sad,” Willa said low. “You’d think they’d want it off the street.”
“Damn right.” Collin muttered. “A sight like that is not encouraging.” He hit the brake—and then swung a U-turn in front of the library, pulling in at the curb.
“Collin!” Willa cried, surprised. “What in the...?”
He shouted out the window at the two boys. “Hey, you two. Get over here.”
Both boys froze. They wore guilty expressions. But then they put on their best tough-guy scowls and sauntered to Collin’s side of the truck. They were the older brothers of a couple of Willa’s former students and when they spotted her in the passenger seat, they dropped some of the attitude and mumbled in unison, “’Lo, Ms. Christensen.”
Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Marooned with the MaverickHer McKnight in Shining ArmorCelebration's Bride Page 4
