Men of Courage II

by Lori Foster

  He hadn’t expected to deal with seeing her again for another six weeks, which was when she was slated to come in for her final interview before the board of directors. He’d told himself he’d be so swamped with his new duties by then, he’d be relieved to have anyone fill the vacancy on his crew. He’d told himself she’d probably long since forgotten all about him anyway. Not that that had helped any.

  Then Ryan’s wedding invitation had arrived. And during a follow-up call to his old college buddy, Coop had found out that most of their old chase crew had been invited as well. Marty being one of them. Cooper had had every intention of begging off. He’d just been offered the new director position at that point, and wasn’t sure about taking it. Truth be told, he still hadn’t completely reconciled himself to taking it.

  When he’d heard that Marty would be attending, he’d rationalized that taking a few days’ vacation time to get away from work would help him come to terms with this new direction his professional life was taking. And that maybe it would be best to see Marty before she came to Oklahoma. That way they could clear up any potential hazards that might be better averted in a social situation, rather than a business setting.

  Yeah. That was why he’d rearranged his entire life, taken vacation days for the first time in his five-year tenure at the National Severe Weather Center, and at the worst possible time, too. So he could attend the wedding of an old friend he hadn’t seen in years.

  Cooper steered his truck through the steady traffic on Route 75, glad to be past Cincinnati, heading north again. He kept half an ear tuned to the chatter on his weather radio as he scanned the horizon ahead. The late June sky was a gorgeous clear blue, not a cloud in sight, but he knew that a massive severe weather system from Canada had moved in far more rapidly than they’d thought, and was currently targeting western Ohio. He’d been tracking it closely, along with another system shaking things up across the Texas panhandle, and a third developing along the mid-Atlantic. To look at the national weather map, you’d never know tornado season was almost over.

  His NSWC team back in Oklahoma had their hands full. He’d felt bad for leaving them like that, but it was just as well they got used to Cooper not being around. His tenure as team leader was due to expire at the end of the month. Which was how long he had to change his mind about accepting the job in the first place.

  The green exit sign for Denton flashed overhead. The small southern Ohio town had already been hammered hard this spring. The residents were still dealing with the damage left behind by the sudden flooding from the most recent system that had torn through their small, bucolic township. In fact, listening to the news coverage, he’d been half expecting Ryan to call and tell him the wedding had been postponed.

  Given that the groom had been on his storm chase crew longer than anyone back when they’d both been at Oklahoma University, Cooper should have known that as long as the church was still standing, the ceremony would go on as planned. Coop smiled, remembering the recognizable buzz in his friend’s voice when he’d called Ryan after the recent weather disturbance to make sure everyone was okay. These days Ryan was a forecaster for a local news affiliate out of Cincinnati, but they both knew that once chasing got in your blood, it never went away.

  Staring out across the open pastures and small rural towns dotting his path north, he couldn’t deny the charge was still there in his blood. He still wanted to be the one out there. The one leading the hunt.

  He, better than most, understood just how rapidly that blue sky out there could turn gray. Then a sickly green. Then a sudden roiling black—a cauldron of thick clouds, downdrafts and convection currents that could quickly combine to create creek-swelling downpours, hail the size of golf balls, winds capable of ripping the siding from houses, constant lightning strikes and, quite possibly, a twisting vortex that could flatten an entire town in less than sixty seconds.

  He knew he was more fortunate than most, having carved a career out of studying severe weather in a field that was very narrow when it came to full-time, self-supporting work. He had no right to feel even a twinge of self-pity over giving up the hands-on work that had been his focus for so long. He’d gotten way more out of it than most. And he’d still be a contributor to his field of study. He just wouldn’t be in the field himself.

  He ignored the sudden increase in chatter on his radio, letting it fade to white noise as his thoughts came full circle. Back to another late spring day, much like this one, the day that had ended up launching his career. The day that had put Marty McKenna in his path, as volatile and unpredictable, it turned out, as the tornado they’d been lucky enough to record that day.

  Graduation day. It hadn’t even been his graduation. It had been Marty’s. She’d just turned twenty-two, and was mere hours away from getting her hands on the diploma she’d worked so hard for. Coop had been a twenty-five-year-old grad student, far more interested in studying the mysterious and complex relationship between supercell thunderstorms and the formation of tornadoes than the similarly mysterious and complex relationships between men and women.

  Not that he didn’t enjoy occasional personal time with the opposite sex, as long as it didn’t distract him for any length of time from what was most important to him: his research. He’d been so close to developing new diagnostic tools that would help demystify some of the many questions scientists had about tornado formation and development. He was certain he’d eventually get the attention his ideas deserved, that he’d be a force in his chosen field. Any serious, long-term relationship was out of the question for him, so he didn’t even consider it, an attitude that had admittedly narrowed his dating options dramatically.

  Marty had been part of his chase crew that semester, having just transferred in from Kansas, specifically to work in his department. Smart, funny and a hard worker. That had been the total sum of his thoughts about her at the time. Gender didn’t really matter much to him when it came to manning his crews. Functionality and dedication was what he looked for. But that fateful afternoon, what became a career-making event had turned, for a few short hours, into an unforgettable personal one. Marty McKenna was the only woman ever to cause his focus to veer so dramatically off course. Before or since. And where she was concerned, it had never fully gotten back on track.

  While the rest of the campus had been in the throes of spontaneous bursts of celebration and general graduation chaos, Coop had been locked in the weather lab, tracking the mother of all storm systems. The way things were shaping up, it had looked like he had an excellent chance of seeing some major action. He had felt both excited and frustrated. Excited, because this supercell could provide him with a wealth of very timely data that would enable him to test and tweak some of his latest innovations. Frustrated because a chunk of his team had already graduated early, and the remainder of his crew was currently donning cap and gown, more interested in diplomas than twisters.

  And then Marty had burst into the lab, breathlessly demanding to know if what she’d heard on the weather radio was accurate. She’d tossed her tasseled cap on the bench and peeled out of her robe. He remembered smiling at the discovery that instead of some fancy dress, she’d worn jeans and a faded Butler County Girls Volleyball T-shirt beneath her gown. Maybe it was the act of seeing her strip that had drawn his attention to her body for the first time. Both her faded T-shirt and her jeans had been soft and snug, cupping a nicely rounded backside and pert breasts in a way he had no business noticing.

  Coop flipped his turn signal and made the Denton exit, unable to keep from smiling as thoughts of that afternoon continued to play out in his mind. Apparently even the promise of the mother of all severe weather systems hadn’t been enough to completely stomp out his newly awakened libido. At the time, that had been irritating to him. He’d had far more important things to worry about than how soft Marty McKenna’s breasts would feel if he peeled both their shirts off and pulled her against his chest.

  It was a good thing he hadn’t known then that Mo
ther Nature intended to teach him several lessons that afternoon, or he’d have never let Marty McKenna inside his truck, no matter how desperate he’d been for a navigator.

  “And what a perfect waste of a life-altering moment that would have been,” he said, his smile turning to a grin. Scientist or not, he was a man.

  Just then the stream of radio chatter was interrupted by a string of warning beeps. A moment later his cell phone rang. He tuned in the radio to listen to the weather alert even as he flipped open his phone. His pulse was already thrumming even before Ryan began rapidly talking in his ear.

  “Where are you, Cooper?” Ryan demanded without preamble. “I mean, specifically.”

  “I’m close, about an hour south of you,” Cooper told him, not questioning the abruptness of the call. “Why?” He struggled to listen to both Ryan and the weather alert at the same time. “What’s coming?”

  “Front moved in faster from the south. Wind shear is awesome. There are multiple supercells, but the biggest is west of here, about twenty miles.”

  “Moving?”

  “South.”

  “So you all are safe?”

  “Not sure. It’s going to cut a wide swath. I’m calling because I just heard from Marty McKenna. She flew in from Kansas City, and since she couldn’t manage to book a nonstop flight, she had a layover in Detroit.”

  Screwy flight plans had been partly the reason Cooper had chosen to drive up, rather than fly. That and the impending weather system had convinced him to keep his truck and gear with him.

  Just in case.

  “The airport had shut down from the northern sector of this same weather system, so I told her to stay put.”

  Despite the worry that was rapidly escalating, Cooper was smiling as he said, “I’m guessing she didn’t heed your request.”

  Ryan snorted. “Should have saved my breath. She rented a car, reassured me she wouldn’t do anything stupid, and asked me the best route to take to circumvent the storm. It was moving east then, and we didn’t think the jet stream would meet up so early. So I sent her south.”

  Cooper’s smile vanished. “You just told me—”

  “I know,” Ryan said, sounding as upset as Cooper felt. “I sent her right into it.”

  “Have you contacted her? She’s no fool, she’ll read the signs. I mean, she works for the NWS.”

  “Yeah, but there’re only a few routes she can take out that way. It’s all rural. I’ve had the guys tracking for me and there’s hail, flooding, lightning strikes, trees and power lines down.”

  “Have you contacted her?”

  “I’ve been trying for hours. Cell service is spotty at best out there and right now, probably from the storms, it’s been nonexistent. But she managed to get through briefly just a few minutes ago. It was a really bad connection, but I got the gist of where she was. Then we got cut off and I haven’t been able to get her back.”

  Ryan paused then, and in the silence that followed a sick feeling began to pull at Cooper’s gut. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “She, uh, right before we got cut off, well, she was swearing, and it’s probably nothing but—”

  “But what?” He’d heard Marty swear before. Of course, her nails had been tracking marks down his naked back at the time. He shook off the memory. “Did she say what was happening?”

  “No. Like I said, the connection was horrible. But, Cooper, I think she screamed.”

  Marty? Screaming? The woman he remembered was high octane when it came to getting things done, but not the type to be given to overreaction or dramatics. Now the adrenaline was kicking into overdrive. “Where did she say she was?”

  “Route 192, just outside of Greenville.”

  Horns blew as Cooper swiftly changed lanes and pulled to the side of the road. He had maps spread on the seat beside him a moment later. “Okay, I’ve got it. I can cut across 17 and be there in that area in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Cooper—”

  He heard the fear in his friend’s voice and intentionally lightened his own. “Hey, I know you’re jealous that I might get to see something interesting out there, but if I’m not mistaken, tonight is your wedding night, so I’m not feeling too sorry for you.”

  There was a pause, then a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I don’t know how to tell you how much this means to all of us. Everyone else has made it in but you two, and we’re just really worried that she might be in some kind of trouble. I’d never forgive myself if—”

  “Hey now, don’t go there. Marty might be hardheaded, but she can also take care of herself.” He knew that better than most. She’d proven what a capable woman she was when, on their way back to the university, not an hour after having been sweaty and naked with him deep inside her, she’d been all business. She’d been more concerned about what they’d seen and the impact it could have on his career than about what they’d just done with one another and the impact it might have on them personally.

  He’d been still somewhat shocked by the sudden turn of events and very mixed up about all the new feelings and dangerous thoughts she’d started racing around inside his head. That, on top of what they’d witnessed, well, he hadn’t wanted to trust any of it, much less put it into words. So he’d followed her cues. Being all business, after all, was his comfort zone. Talking about his feelings was not.

  They’d hit the campus and within hours their film had been released to major news organizations and wire services. By the time the hubbub had subsided, Marty had quietly grabbed her diploma and taken off for a job offer in Kansas. She’d sent him a letter shortly thereafter, thanking him for including her name in his published reports and congratulating him on the professional success his footage was bringing him. And he hadn’t seen or heard from her since.

  But that was about to change. And leave it to Mother Nature to make their reunion as dramatic as their parting.

  “You’ve got enough to deal with,” he told Ryan. “Go focus on marrying that beautiful fiancée of yours. I’m sorry I’m going to miss it, but if all goes well, we’ll be there by the reception.”

  “Be careful,” Ryan told him. “From the reports I’m getting, it’s getting volatile out there. Anything can happen.”

  Cooper thought about the last time he’d seen Marty, and how she might react when he found her this afternoon. And he’d find her all right. “Yeah,” he said, the corners of his mouth kicking up despite the knot in his gut. “That’s just what I’m hoping for.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “DAMMIT!” COOPER SMACKED the steering wheel with open palms. He’d finally made it to the rural route number Marty had given Ryan, though the road was hardly more than a farm trail. And, as was the case in a lot of the rural areas he’d chased storms through, there weren’t many connector roads or alternate routes to choose from. He’d already made it through several swollen creeks, detoured around downed telephone wires, and rolled over more than one busted tree branch just to get this far.

  But he wasn’t getting over or around the massive pine tree presently slumped across the road. Ripped up by the wind, exposing a massive root system with little left to cling to after a season of heavy rains, hail had quickly piled up alongside it, as well as all along the sides of the roads. He was just thankful it had finally stopped. His truck had been taking quite a beating for the past twenty or so minutes. He supposed he should just be thankful it hadn’t cracked his windshield. The rain had dwindled now as well, but lightning strikes were still frequent and the wind was near constant. Due to lack of signal or downed towers, he’d been out of cell-phone range for some time now, but he didn’t need a weather update to tell him what he could see for himself.

  The cloud ceiling in front of him was circulating, with a rear downdraft pulling down the occasional tiny funnel. So far, none had formed strongly enough to come close to touching down. But the system was moving toward him, and he knew that at any time, another one could form. All of the conditions were ripe for a rare super
twister, and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if one formed right in front of his very eyes.

  At any other time he’d be cursing his current lack of equipment. He had his personal gear, but right about now he’d kill for one of his Severe Weather Center vans, complete with its own mini Doppler radar. He’d chased many a supercell, but it was still difficult to pinpoint the right place at the exact right time to witness a tornado forming and touching down. Which was why scientists like himself were still struggling to answer some of the most basic questions about twister formation. Actually witnessing the birth of a twister of F4 or F5 proportions—a supertwister—was even rarer. In fact, he’d only done it once.

  He and Marty had covered hundreds of miles that June afternoon, charting and mapping their way across the Plains, linking up with various weather centers as they’d tracked the storm. Even though the conditions were all but screaming for a supertwister, they’d never expected to see what they saw. And though Cooper had seen other big tornadoes since, none had been as massive, as dangerous or as destructive as the one he and Marty had all but smacked into that day.

  He’d seen the footage he’d taken that day replayed a hundred times over. And yet the video was so far removed from the intensity of the actual moment. There were no words to describe what he and Marty had witnessed. No strip of film or spool of video could adequately convey the crushing, thundering power of that F5 as it had railroaded its way across open fields, stampeding through small rural towns, tossing homes around like dollhouses, flattening offices and strip malls as easily as an angry toddler having a foot-stomping tantrum.

  Cars, trees, tractors, even boats had been flung about like Frisbees at a Sunday picnic. Some had landed dozens of miles away, some had never been found. Aluminum siding had been driven like steel railroad spikes through tree trunks. People had been sucked out from under overpasses, or worse, plucked right from their homes.