Riding the storm - By Julie Miller Page 0,33
I’m gonna go up and meet the new baby,” Wes said. “If that’s okay?”
“Sure.” She waved Wes on his way when he hesitated. “I’ll clean up here.” A faint tension settled across her shoulders after he zoomed upstairs. “C’mon, Dad. Pick up.”
The quiet of the kitchen proved little barrier against the growing fury of the storm outside and Jolene’s nerves were stretched beyond taut. The wind whipped branches against the siding and hummed through the eaves overhead. Rain pelted the roof and the temperature was steadily dropping. The carpet of goose bumps that prickled her arms had become as constant a companion as the baby she carried inside her.
Right on cue, little Joaquin tumbled over inside her, as if sensing his mother’s concern. Jolene cupped her belly and rubbed gentling circles through the now stiff denim overalls. “Hang in there, sweetie,” she soothed. “Mama’s going to keep you safe. I’m just worried about Grandpa.”
And the Double J. And the storm. And Amber Browning’s future. And that damn Californian who’d disrupted her life in the first place.
She’d nearly disconnected after the eighth ring.
“Jolene?”
Of course, he’d read her number on his phone. Her breath rushed out in a sigh of hope and relief. “Dad?”
“Are you okay?” they asked in unison.
She listened to Mitch Kannon’s deep, calming breath. Felt it calm her as well. “I’m fine, hon.”
“Me, too.”
“Please tell me you’re somewhere safe.”
She could hear noises in the background now, and wondered if her father was working an accident scene or if the evac center was being overrun. “We’re still at the Rock-a-Bye ranch. Deacon and the newlyweds are set for now, though Deacon will need an X ray. The Brownings are fine, but Rocky’s still on the loose.”
“That’s gonna cost them if they lose him. I hope no one winds up with a runaway bull in their backyard. I don’t suppose the weather’s helping his temperament any.”
She hadn’t thought of the danger the bull could pose to anyone else. One more thing to worry about on a growing list. “I’m glad I could reach you on my cell. The static’s so bad we can’t get the radio to work, and now the phone lines are down.”
“That’s pretty much the status here. We’re getting reports of power outages around the county. Flooding. Bridges out. Wind damage. Cars off the road. Hell, I’ve even got a missing Scout troop—over there.” Mitch addressed someone at the other end of the line. Jolene could overhear him directing the placement of cots at the fire station. By the time he was back on the line, she knew he had his hands full and didn’t need to be shouldering any of her burden as well. “I’m damn glad the California volunteers showed up,” Mitch said. “There’s no way we could handle all the calls we’re getting by ourselves.”
Jolene looked up at the ceiling, envisioning Nate’s skilled hands. “I hate to admit it, but I’m glad Kellison was with me. The baby was breech and I couldn’t get her turned around.”
“Her?” She could hear the smile in her father’s voice. “Did Lily finally get her little girl?”
Jolene discovered she could smile now, too, and was glad she could offer her father some happy news. “Amber Renee. Twenty inches long, seven pounds, three ounces, and as mouthy as her mother. You should see how crazy the boys are about her already.”
“Yeah, baby girls have a way of getting to the men in their lives.”
The personal message in his wistful tone comforted her and reminded her of the special bond they shared. “Have you had a chance to sit down and catch your breath, Dad? Did you eat lunch?”
“I’ll catch my breath once this hurricane blows over and I know my people are safe. And yes, Ruth made sure I ate a sandwich and had some coffee.”
“Good for her.” If the dispatcher was a tough enough cookie to raise three teenage sons on her own, then she could keep Mitch Kannon in line. Jolene breathed a little easier, knowing someone closer to home was looking after her father. “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to report in. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“You couldn’t if you wanted to. Sheriff Boone said the main highway’s flooded out near the river, and you told me the backroads were already impassable.” She recognized the deep breath that preceded a fatherly warning. “So you stay put at the Rock-a-Bye. Don’t try to come into town until this thing blows itself out.