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Megan went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me. I’ve already agreed to the deal. You don’t have to oversell it.”
Beth chuckled. “You’d better run, Drew. The last time I was here she had two iguanas and a python. I think you’re getting off easy.”
* * *
Beth smiled at her friend as Drew drove away. “I should have already asked. How is Evie?” Beth had met the four-year-old when Beth had adopted the puppy. Evie’s precocious charm had won her over immediately.
Some emotion flickered in Megan’s eyes. “She’s good. She’s fine.”
Since the other woman’s tone of voice indicated she didn’t want to talk further about her child, Beth backed off. “Tell me what to do. I know you’re overwhelmed.”
For the first time, Megan took a deep breath, her gaze sober. “Is it true that your house is badly damaged?”
Beth nodded. “My place took a direct hit. The fields are ruined. One corner of the house is a shambles. Drew and I were trapped in the storm cellar overnight when my car decided to land on top of us.”
“Dear Lord.”
“Yes. We were lucky. I still get shaky thinking about it.”
“Well, I can take your mind off your troubles, I guarantee. Come on inside and you can help me decide how to rig up some extra cages. I won’t be able to use the outdoor dog runs until I get help clearing everything the storm dropped on top of us.”
Within the walls of the building, chaos reigned. Dogs howled. Cats screeched. It was as if the animals realized that a disaster of epic proportions had swept the county. And perhaps they did.
When Beth voiced the thought, Megan nodded. “They understand, they really do. Dogs and cats are remarkably intuitive. Of course, right now most of them are cranky because their routines have been altered. But they’ll settle down soon. I hope.”
For the next couple of hours, Beth worked until her back was sore and her legs ached. Feeding and watering the clientele took a long time, not to mention finding places for the new residents displaced by the storm.
At one point, pausing to catch her breath, she leaned down and picked up a tiny puppy with matted golden-brown hair. He reminded her a lot of Gus. The little dog curled into her arms with what she could swear was a sigh of relief. Murmuring to her newfound friend, she stroked his ears. “If you don’t have a name, I’ll call you Stormy. I know...it’s cliché. But all the little girl dogs will think you’re cute.”
Megan returned from outside where she had been hosing out buckets. “Looks like somebody loves you.”
Beth’s heart turned over in a wistful flip of longing. “Do me a favor, Megan.”
“Of course.”
“If no one comes to claim this sweet fella, will you keep him for me? Until I’m back in my house?”
“I doubt Drew would care if you brought a dog home. He’s not allergic to those. The man has a Golden Retriever and a couple of Bluetick hounds.”
“All the more reason to leave Stormy here. Drew is already feeding and housing me. I can’t trespass on his good nature any further than that.”
Megan lifted an eyebrow. “You’re staying with Drew? I thought he was the big bad wolf trying to gobble up your farm.”
Beth held Stormy more tightly. “It’s not like that. When he saw that my house was going to need major repairs, he offered me a room. That’s all.”
Megan grinned. “And how many other homeless females has he taken in?”
“None.”
“I rest my case.”
At that exact moment, a horn honked outside, signaling Drew’s return. He carried in the supplies Megan had requested and glanced at Beth with amusement. “You both look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backward.”
“Some of us have been working hard,” she said.
He didn’t rise to the bait. “You ready to go?” He scratched Stormy’s tummy gently. The puppy practically rolled his eyes in ecstasy. Beth understood entirely. Drew’s big hands gave a woman naughty ideas.
Beth looked at Megan and handed over the small dog. “I’ll come back again, I promise.”
Megan tucked the pup under her arm and glanced at her utilitarian watch. “No worries. We’ve had lots of volunteers. Thanks for all you’ve done.”
* * *
Drew pointed the truck toward downtown. “You sure you want to do this?” The farther they drove, the more damage they witnessed. Beth stared in silence. At one point he saw a single tear slide down her cheek. But she didn’t wipe it away.
“How can it happen so fast?” she asked, the words heartbroken.
He understood that it was a rhetorical question. Though he had already seen the devastation yesterday and twice today, the senseless destruction still took his breath away. The random patterns of the storm’s fury played out much like what they had seen at Beth’s farm. Some streets were still impassable, cordoned off by orange and white barricades. Power poles had been tumbled like matchsticks.
But in the midst of chaos, here and there, a potted plant survived...a child’s bicycle, a glass shop front. Signs of hope in the midst of incredible sorrow. Drew pointed to a family of four sifting through what was left of their modest two-story home. “Everywhere I’ve gone so far, people have been amazing. They’re putting it in perspective. Grateful to have each other.” Left unspoken was the thought that not everyone had survived.
“Where are we going?” Beth asked, her voice subdued.
“The high school. They’ve set up a large shelter area in the gym. How do you feel about reading books to kids?”
“I have no idea. I’m never really around little ones very much.”
“I’m in the same boat, but this came as a direct request from the shelter coordinator. They’ve provided phone service and internet connections so parents can deal with insurance details and anything else. But it’s hard for the children to be cooped up. Schools are going to be closed for at least a week, probably longer. The principal is lining up volunteers to plan activities and give some structure to the days.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
When they entered the gym, normally open to the community for basketball games and carnival nights, the scene was a cacophony of loud voices and crying children. Cots lined the floor in neat rows. It struck Drew that if he hadn’t asked Beth to stay with him, she might have been a resident here as well. He couldn’t imagine trying to keep a family together and entertained in the midst of such chaos.
Thankfully, it appeared that social services and law enforcement were handling this very personal disaster efficiently and compassionately. Emergency preparedness training had kicked in, and relief efforts were functioning like a well-oiled machine.
Drew steered Beth toward a far corner that served as command central. The site coordinator’s face lit up when she saw them. “You’re a gift from heaven,” she said. “The TCC members have been amazing. We’ve already started three age groups with other volunteers. I’d like the two of you to take the eight, nine and ten-year-olds to classroom 107. There are fifteen of them in all. You’ll find signs in the hallway directing you. Someone will deliver afternoon snacks.” She handed Beth a copy of Charlotte’s Web and two other books. “Thank you.”
That was the extent of their training. Drew smiled at Beth ruefully. “Ready for this?”
She was rumpled and hot and her ponytail was awry. But her beautiful eyes sparked with mischief. “I can handle anything you dish out. Bring it on.”
In moments, they were surrounded by a gaggle of youngsters chattering excitedly—except for the few whose sober faces reflected a very adult understanding of all they had lost. One little boy with a crooked haircut and pants that were too short held Drew’s hand as they walked down the hall.
Beth took the lead, playing the role of Pied Piper as they led their charges to the assigned spot. It didn’t take long to get the kids settled into their desks. The furniture was designed for adolescents, which was a novelty in itself. When a momentary quiet reigned, Beth lifted an eyebrow, holding up one of the books.
Drew shook his head. “I’ll be bad cop, if necessary. You take the wheel.”
Shaking her head with a wry smile, she took the teacher’s chair, pulled it from behind the large oak desk and sat down facing her audience. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. After reading quietly through the first few paragraphs, she found her rhythm and injected a note of drama into Fern’s character, particularly the girl’s outrage when she found out the small pig was going to be killed.
At that moment, Drew realized his role as disciplinarian was going to be unnecessary. The children hung on Beth’s every word. She read nonstop for forty-five minutes, creating voices for each new actor in the beloved story. Even Drew found himself caught up in the classic tale.
But after a while he went from listening to watching. The curve of Beth’s lips as she smiled. The nuances of expression on her face. The way she made eye contact with each child, as if assuring every boy and girl that she was reading just to him or her.
It struck him that Beth Andrews would make an amazing mother. Drew hadn’t spent much time thinking about marriage and babies and home and hearth. After all, he was only thirty-two. He had plenty of time.
But the storm’s havoc made him reassess a lot of things. Watching families pull together in the last forty-eight hours had shown him the importance of being grounded. Jed lived in Dallas, their parents in south Texas. Drew travelled often. Though his work was satisfying and he had a wide circle of friends and extended relatives, for the first time he wondered if he was missing something very important. Maybe he needed to think about the bigger picture.
Beth ended a chapter as the promised refreshments arrived. Supervising snack time was a sticky, rowdy mess, but it reminded him of what it was like to be a kid. When the apples and peanut butter disappeared faster than a snowflake in the hot sun, he helped clean up the debris. Another volunteer arrived to shepherd the group of children back to their parents.
Drew straightened one last row of seats and grinned at Beth. “Your talents are lost on farming. You should have been either a librarian or an actress.”
Tucking wayward strands of hair behind her ears, she perched on the teacher’s desk, her legs swinging. “To be honest, kids give me the heebie-jeebies. They scare me to death. One wrong word or move, and you’ve scarred them for life. It’s too much responsibility. And as for being an actress, well...let’s just say I prefer digging in the dirt.”
He yawned and stretched, feeling tired but content. “It’s hard to believe that forty-eight hours ago we were running for our lives.”
“I know. It seems like a dream until you look outside. Then it smacks you in the face. I feel so sorry for all the people taking shelter here. Especially the ones with children. My house is damaged, but at least I have only myself to worry about.”
“And your brother.”
Beth’s face closed up. “I don’t want to talk about Audie.”
“We’re one man short at the stables. I could offer him a job. It’s grunt work...doesn’t pay much. But it would be better than nothing.”
Despite the stuffy air in the classroom, Beth’s pink cheeks paled. “That would be a very bad idea. Trust me.” Her soft lips firmed in a grim line.
“It’s not that big a deal. I really am looking for somebody.”
“Then look somewhere else.”
He stood, nonplussed, and wondered with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach if Beth was as stubborn and intractable as his ex-fiancée. Whatever happened to sweet, amenable women?
Beth jumped down from the desk and walked toward the door. “We should see if they need us anywhere else.”
“Wait.” The command came out more urgently than he had intended.
Beth stopped and turned. Her posture was wary. “What’s wrong?”
He went to her and rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “I’ve been wondering if those first two kisses were a fluke.”
When her gaze went to his mouth, a tingle of something hot and heady settled in his gut.
She bit her lip. “Perhaps not flukes, but probably mistakes. Adrenaline...the will to live. That’s all.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Beth. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them.” He slid one hand beneath her hair, prepared to draw back if she made a protest. Instead, she looked up at him with curiosity and something more. It was that second emotion that stole his breath and made his hands shake.
Lowering his head, he found her lips with his. She tasted like peanut butter and cherry Kool-Aid. At first, her arms hung at her sides. He explored her mouth gently, his tongue brushing hers. The only other place their bodies connected was where his left hand cupped her chin.
In the storm cellar, emotions had run high. Now, in the broad light of day, he felt the same jolt of arousal. “Touch me,” he said.
Slowly, her arms came up and twined around his neck. She stretched on her tiptoes, straining to get closer.
Lifting her off her feet, he strode to the teacher’s desk and sat her there, moving into the V of her thighs. Now they were perfectly matched. He cupped her breast through her shirt. The door was unlocked. They were in a public building. Though he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, he knew he dared not go any further.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” he muttered.
She rested her forehead on his collarbone. “I have a few ideas.”
Her droll humor startled a laugh from him. “I hope we’re on the same page.”
Her answer was to kiss him so sweetly that an entirely inopportune erection was the result. Breathing heavily, he stepped away, trying to elude temptation. “I think one of us is supposed to say this is going too fast.”
She shrugged, leaning back on her hands. “I’ve had a terrible crush on you for over a year, even when you were being an obnoxious, overbearing plutocrat.”
“Ouch.” His wince was not feigned. Hearing her description of his less-than-stellar qualities made him squirm. “I thought we called a truce.”
“Under duress and the threat of apocalypse.”
“Then I’ll say it again,” he muttered quietly. “For the moment, I’m not going to fight with you or try to make you see reason.”
She crooked a finger. He went to her like a kite on a string, hoping she didn’t recognize the hold she had on him.
Beth kissed him again, but in a naughtier fashion this time. She pulled back and smiled, her lips swollen. “We’re consenting adults. I’m staying at your house temporarily. Seems like the universe is giving us a sign.”
He curled a hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth to his, no longer as in control as he would have liked. “If you believe in that kind of stuff.”
“Are you turning me down?”
He jerked. “Hell, no. Besides, this was my idea.”
“To-may-to, to-mah-to. But if we’re going to share the credit, then we’ll both share the blame when we crash and burn.”
“Why would you say a thing like that?” He stole half a second to nip her earlobe with sharp teeth. Her groaned sigh was his reward.
“You’re you, and I’m me,” she whispered with inescapable logic.
“So?”
“Don’t ruin the moment, Farrell. We’re the definition of short-term.”
He sighed. “I don’t want to argue about what ifs. Surely the tornado taught us that. Live in the moment. Carpe diem. Any cliché you want to choose. I’ve never come that close to disaster. I feel foolish saying it, but it changed me.”
Beth stared at him, her green eyes bright. He wondered what she was thinking.
Finally she responded. “I think it’s too soon to make a statement like that. Give it a week. A month. You’ll be your old self.”
“That’s pretty cynical.”