by Ginna Gray
"Whoa, there. Don't run off mad. I didn't mean to upset you." Grinning, he pulled her to stand between his spread legs, so close that Tess had to brace her hands against his bare chest.
She heard the laughter in his voice and knew she should pull away, but she kept her gaze lowered and stared at his collar bone, intensely aware of the warm flesh and crisp hair pressing against her palms, the clean male scent that assailed her nostrils.
Ryan draped his forearms over her shoulders and tipped his head to one side, giving her a coaxing look. "C'mon, Tess. You've got to admit, it is funny."
"I'll do no such thing. This is serious, Ryan. I nearly hit a pedestrian yesterday. If the poor man hadn't jumped back onto the curb I would have run him down."
Ryan's mouth worked and his eyes danced even more. Tess tried to look stern but she could not quite manage it. He was so incredibly handsome with his face alight with good humor, it took her breath away. His mirth was contagious as well. After a moment her own lips began to twitch.
She tried to hold back, but when Ryan's grin widened, a sound somewhere between a snort and a giggle broke free and she was lost.
"Atta girl," Ryan whooped, and when he rested his forehead against hers, she leaned weakly against him as their laughter blended.
Tess shook her head at the memory and picked up her knitting again, a smile tugging at her lips. That morning had marked a change in their relationship, put them at ease with each other in a way that was oddly comforting.
❧
Ryan had not only taken her to the grocery store, and to the pharmacy and the dry cleaners and on any other errand she needed to run, last week he had driven her to the obstetrician's for her regular checkup.
Mike, of course, was in heaven. He was so elated over the turn things had taken that he almost balked at spending the last few weeks of summer vacation with his grandparents. It was something he had done every summer for the last eight years. He had been looking forward to the visit for weeks, and Tess could tell that he wanted to go, but he was torn. He had still been hesitating when he climbed into his uncle's truck for the drive to Crockett.
"But I want to be here when the baby's born. What if I don't get back in time and I miss it?"
"You won't miss it," his father assured him for the hundredth time and slung his bags into the back.
Grinning, Reilly ruffled Mike's hair. "Hey, don't sweat it, sport. It's only a two-hour drive from Crockett, and babies always take longer than that to get born. So even if something happens we can give you a call in plenty of time for Gramps to get you here for the big event."
"Mike, don't worry," Tess assured him. "The baby isn't due until the end of the month. You'll be back and in school before then."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now go."
Chuckling, Tess shook her head. He had been gone barely ten days and he had already called five times. Mike was almost as excited about the baby as she was.
A shrill beeping drew Tess's gaze to the television, and she was surprised to see that the regular program had been interrupted. The man on the screen, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service, advised solemnly that Hurricane Homer, which had been expected to go ashore on the eastern coast of Mexico during the previous night, had changed direction and was now threatening the Texas coast.
"If the storm continues on the same northeasterly course it will come on shore to the west of Galveston on a direct line with Houston. If that becomes likely we will recommend evacuation.
"At its current rate of speed, Homer is expected to make landfall around ten o'clock tonight. However, please be advised that winds are increasing and the storm is picking up speed as it moves over the Gulf of Mexico, so that estimate will probably be revised.
"Hurricane Homer could change direction again at any time. We here at the National Weather Service are tracking it constantly and will keep you informed of any developments as they occur."
The man went on to advise of safety precautions that should be taken and what supplies to have on hand in case of a power outage and various other emergency situations. Tess listened in a daze, the first stirring of anxiety tightening her chest.
Her gaze went to the window. The night before and all morning it had rained off and on, sometimes in gusty, wind-driven sheets, but that was not unusual for the Gulf Coast, especially when a tropical storm was brewing offshore. When she had watched the evening news the night before, the weatherman had been confident that the hurricane would continue its westerly course and miss the U.S. completely.
It took almost five minutes, but finally Tess struggled out of the rocking chair and waddled to the window. The rain had stopped for the moment but the trees around the apartment complex were whipping and swaying in the wind like frenzied dancers and the sky had an unnatural greenish tint that made her uneasy.
Her first instinct was to call Ryan, but she stopped herself in time. While she was glad of their new amiable relationship, she still was not comfortable about imposing on him. She was not Ryan's responsibility, after all. She could not keep running to him every time she had a problem.
Besides, it was early yet. Barely noon. There was plenty of time to take action if it became necessary. These storms were unpredictable. Homer might not come anywhere near Houston. By evening it might even be headed in a totally different direction. There was no reason to panic.
The rain started again, lashing against her window with a sudden savageness that made her jump. Tess looked at the telephone. Biting her lower lip, she crossed her arms over her swollen abdomen, hugging herself tightly, and fought the urge to run to the instrument and dial R & R Construction.
❧
"This bulletin just in from National Weather Service. As of six o'clock this evening Hurricane Homer was located less than one hundred miles offshore and taking dead aim at Houston."
Across the width of the R & R Construction office, Ryan and Reilly exchanged a worried glance but neither spoke. Their faces taut, they listened carefully to every word coming from the battered radio that sat on top of the filing cabinet.
"...hundred and fifty miles wide. At present. Homer has sustained winds of one hundred and forty-five miles an hour, but that speed is expected to increase. Homer is moving in our direction at a current speed of twenty-four miles per hour. The National Weather Service and the Bureau of Civil Defense is advising all residents to evacuate the city or ^ move to designated shelters in your area. I repeat—"
"Well, that cuts it." Ryan stood up and switched off the -radio. "We can't wait any longer hoping it will change course. Even if it veers off now, which seems damned unlikely, we'll still catch the edge of it."
"Yeah, you're right." Reilly hauled himself to his feet, took a rain slickw from the coatrack and shrugged into it. He had aheady protected his Stetson with a clear plastic hat cover. "I guess we'd better go batten down as best we can and hightail it outta here. An apartment is sure as hell no place to ride out a hurricane." His gaze swept the interior of the trailer that served as the on-site office, and he grimaced. "This place will probably get blown into the next county."
For the next hour they worked in the driving rain to secure their equipment and materials at Wildwood, They had received approval on their loan three weeks before and clearing had already started on the property. They made several trips, hauling the heavy earth-moving equipment and concrete mixers back to the storage bam on a flatbed trailer, where they chained them to rings in the concrete foundation. Thankfully, Httle in the way of building material had been delivered to the development yet, just a load of bricks and some beams for the entrance marker. Those they covered with a tarp and anchored it with stakes and chains and crossed their fingers that the force of the wind would not make flying missiles out of the lot.
"Okay, that does it," Reilly hollered over the howling wind and rain when they had finished. "Let's head out. We're closest to my place. It won't take me but a few min-. utes to throw some things together, then we'll swi
ng by your apartment and you can do the same. I assume we're going to head for the folks' place."
"Right. I've got a few valuables I want to take along, too, but that won't—" Ryan stopped in midsentence. "Good Lord! Tess!" He looked at his brother, his eyes wide. "She's all alone. She can't even drive herself anymore. We'll have to take her with us."
"Hey, no problem. Mom won't mind. She'd skin us both if we didn't."
"C'mon, let's hurry it up. Tess is probably scared to death by now."
❧
Tess's hands shook as she folded a smock and added it to the suitcase. Another gust of wind hurtled rain against the side of the building. It lashed and drummed against the structure with a roar that was deafening. Warily, reaching for another nightgown, she glanced out the window. Now even the greenish pewter sky was obliterated. All she could see were the solid sheets of water. It was barely seven o'clock, but it was so dark outside that the streetlights had been on for the last hour.
The sudden banging on the front door nearly made her jump right out of her skin. She gave a squeal and dropped the nightgown, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Tess! Tess, are you in there?"
Ryan. She sagged against the bedpost and closed her eyes. Thank God.
Ryan's fist hammered again, and she pulled herself together and headed for the door as fast as she could waddle, her heart pounding in her throat. "I'm coming. I'm coming.''
The instant she opened the door, Ryan burst through and grasped her shoulders. "What took you so long? Are you all right?"
Tess gave a shaky laugh. She never thought she'd be so glad to see that fierce scowl. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I was just—"
''Good. Go pack what you need. You're coming with us."
He grabbed her hand and started toward the bedroom. Tess tried to hang back but he towed her along with him. "Go-going with you? But... where? And who is us?"
"Me and Reilly. He's next door packing some things for me. We're getting the hell out of here. Ah, good, you've already started," he said with satisfaction when he spotted the half filled suitcase on her bed.
"Ye-yes. I was going to call a taxi—or the police if I had to—to take me to a shelter."
"Shelter, hell. I'm taking you to my folks' place."
"Ryan! I can't let you do that. I'm not going to impose on your family that way. They don't even know me."
"Believe me, you won't be imposing. They have a big bam of a house and Mom loves having company. Anyway, by now Mike has told them all about you."
He scooped up the remaining items she had laid out on the bed to take and stuffed them into the case. "Is this all you need?"
"Yes, but—"
"No buts, Tess. If you think Tm leaving you here alone when you're just a couple of weeks from dominoing, you're crazy. You're coming with us, and that's final." He snapped the locks and straightened with the suitcase in his hand. "Is there anything else you want to take?" The determined look on his face warned her that arguing was useless.
Tess told herself she should refuse anyway. She wasn't his responsibility. She wasn't even family. Why should Ryan be burdened with looking after her? It wasn't right.
But, heaven help her, she was glad he had come for her. She had been so frightened. Somehow, in the last month she had come to depend on Ryan, on his strength, his steadiness, his rock solid dependability. She had complete confidence in him. With Ryan she felt safe.
Biting her lower lip, she looked at him uncertainly and tried to work up the gumption to refuse, but she couldn't. Finally she gave in with a guilty sense of relief.
"Well ..." Tess gestured toward the overnight case sitting beside the dresser. "There is the bag I've kept packed to take with me to the hospital. Perhaps—"
"Hell, yes, we'll take it."
"Hey. You two ready to hit the road?" Reilly stuck his head in the door, grinned at Tess and murmured a cheerful, "Hi, darlin'," before turning to his brother. "I locked your place and tossed your stuff in the Cherokee. It's getting hairy out there, Hoss. We'd better get a move on."
"Right. Here, take this." Ryan shoved the smaller of Tess's cases into Reilly's hand. He picked up the other one, grabbed her elbow and bustled her out with a speed that made her head spin.
❧
Though only a few miles away, it seemed to take forever to reach Interstate 45, the main highway that led north out of Houston to Dallas and beyond. Every car in the city appeared to be heading in that direction. On the other side of the wide median, the southbound half of the freeway was eerily empty. Ahead, to the north, the highway was an unbroken ribbon of red taillights, behind, a necklace of glaring headlights, stretching out in both directions as far as the eye could see.
The bumper-to-bumper traffic crept along at an erratic stop-and-start pace, like a long, slow-moving parking lot. Which was just as well, Tess thought. The wind had picked up even more and was buffeting the Cherokee so hard that Ryan had to fight the steering wheel constantly to keep control.
Sitting in the back seat, Tess stared out at the almost horizontal wall of rain that lashed and pounded with a demented fury. It sheeted the windows, overpowering the furiously thumping wipers. Visibihty extended mere feet in front of the vehicle. Thick woods Hned the freeway on either side, and the trees were blurry shapes, swaying and whipping with wild abandon, like a troupe of crazed dancers. The frenzy and power of the approaching storm was awesome, and this, Tess knew, was merely the forward edge.
Yet, strangely, she was not afraid. Not anymore. She was apprehensive about barging in on Ryan's family. But the tight, fizzy feeling gripping her chest was excitement and fascination over the impressive display of nature's force. Her fear had fled the instant that Ryan had pounded on her apartment door.
It took them almost two hours to travel the fifty miles to the Highway 19 cutoff, just south of Huntsville. Once they left the interstate they began to make better time, though they were unable to drive at anywhere near the speed limit.
The traffic was not quite as congested, but it remained bumper-to-bumper, and though they were pulling ahead of the storm, they were still on the forward fringes of it and the rain and winds continued to batter them. A hurricane of the size and power of Homer created squalls for hundreds of miles in every direction beyond the actual storm center.
Occasionally the brothers exchanged a few quiet words, and now and then Ryan would glance in the rearview mirror at Tess and inquire if she was okay, but otherwise they said little. Driving under such harrowing conditions required all of Ryan's concentration.
They were fifteen or so miles beyond Huntsville when Tess felt the first twinge of pain. She didn't think much of it; all day she'd had an ache in her lower back and this was only slightly more severe.
Ten minutes later, her eyes widened and she went utterly still when the aching tightness returned and spread from her back around to her abdomen. The sensation lasted only seconds, so quick she could not be sure it had been a contraction. Tess looked out the window into the pitch darkness as the Cherokee's tires thumped noisily over the Trinity River bridge. She hoped not; they were in the middle of nowhere.
There had been no reoccurrence of the discomfort when they drove through the small town of Trinity a few minutes later, and Tess began to relax. Dr. Baxter had warned her that she might experience twinges of false labor during the last couple of weeks.
Barely five minutes north of town another pain grabbed her. This one was no twinge but a full-blown, excruciating contraction. The cramping pain rippled from her back around her belly like clawing talons. Tess gripped the edge of the seat and gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.
When the spasm passed she slumped back against the seat and panted, unaware until then that she had been holding her breath. Oh, Lord. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Please, God, not now. But deep inside, she knew that it was.
What should she do? She wondered if she ought to alert Ryan and ask him to turn around and go back to Trinity, but she wasn't sure whether the
little town even had a hospital. And she didn't want to add to Ryan's problems unless she had to. He had his hands full already.
She knew for certain that Crockett had a hospital. Mike had told her about breaking his arm last summer and having it set in the emergency room. When they reached the outskirts of town she would tell Ryan ... if she made it that far.
The thought that she might not sent fear skittering through her, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. Don't panic. Just stay calm, she cautioned herself. Stay calm.
When she looked up Ryan was watching her in the rear-view mirror. "Is something wrong?"
"Uh...no. I uh...I was just wondering. How far are we from Crockett?"
"About twenty-five miles, give or take a mile or so. But at the rate this traffic is moving, it'll take forty-five minutes or more to get there."
Forty-five minutes. That wasn't too bad. The pains seemed to be about ten or twelve minutes apart. And Dr. Baxter had said that first labors were usually long.
The next contraction, however, occurred a mere six minutes later. It caught her unawares and was agonizing and endless. In the middle of it, though she bit down hard on her lower lip, Tess couldn't hold back a moan.
The sound drew the attention of both men. Reilly whipped around and stared at her, and Ryan's gaze snapped to the rearview mirror. "What is it? What's wrong?" they said in unison.
Caught in the torturous grip of the contraction, Tess could not answer. She barely heard them, barely registered the looks of shock and horror that slid over their faces.
"Tess? Tess, for Pete's sake, are you in labor?" Ryan demanded.
"Ye-yes!" she gasped when the pain began to release her.
