he’d sold off his herd and leased a portion of the land. Cattle still roamed the place, but they were someone else’s responsibility. Jolene lived alone, with only her horse, Jericho, the dogs, and a collection of barn cats for company. She tended her garden, painted her baby’s nursery, spoiled her father and wished she had more to do with her life.
Like take care of Nate Kellison.
“Damn it.” Oh, Lordy, she was going to get hurt again if she didn’t watch herself.
“Jolene? Criminy, honey, are you all right?” Mitch Kannon’s gruff voice answered as soon as she’d cursed.
“I’m fine, Dad. Soaked to the bone and tired. But I’m okay.”
“Where are you? I didn’t think it’d take this long to hear from you. Is Kellison still with you?”
Jolene quickly gave him the details of their situation, along with the condition of the washed-out roads, broken fence lines and flooding. She mentioned Nate’s injuries, their ride through the storm, and Rocky’s rescue—though she left out the part about going into the river to cut Nate free. She reckoned there were some things an already worried father didn’t need to know.
“How long do you think it’ll be before it hits us, Dad?” she asked.
“It’s only about a couple hours away now. The winds here are really picking up. We may have to evacuate to the school ourselves.”
The sounds of raised voices in the fire station got louder. Jolene recognized Ruth Elliot’s firm voice above all the others. “Mitch Kannon, get over here and drink this coffee while it’s hot.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jolene smiled at her father’s indulgent tone. He and Ruth had worked together for almost ten years. Ruth ran that office with the efficiency of a ship’s captain, and though Mitch had often complained about Ruth’s strict rules, he’d never once complained about the woman herself. In fact, he’d often mentioned how much he admired her. Hmm, Jolene wondered now. Was there something more going on between them?
Something her father had never given a chance—until confronted with doubts about their very survival.
A loud bang startled Jolene over the phone, and she heard a scream.
“Easy, Ruth.” That was her father.
“Mitch, please.” Was that a catch in Ruth’s voice? “Come now.”
“It’s okay, Ruth. I’ll be right there.” Now that was the kind, firm voice that had reassured Jolene over the years.
Mitch’s voice gained volume as he spoke directly into the phone again. “I’ve got to go now, honey. We just lost a window at the back of the station. We’re moving everyone to the interior rooms until the worst blows over. I probably won’t be able to contact you for a while.” The connection crackled. “Eighty to one hundred mile per hour winds when it hits…Stay put where you are. Honey…” Static garbled the last of his message. Then the entire line went dead.
“Dad? Dad!” The cell tower must have been knocked out.
No radio. No phone. No contact with the outside world.
Only Jolene and Nate, an ornery bull—and Hurricane Damon poised to strike.
THE KNOCK AT THE DOOR startled her.
No one was out and about in this mess. Jolene dismissed the sound as something blowing against the house and went back to brushing her towel-dried hair and gathering it into a ponytail. She’d already changed into a dry pair of maternity jeans and zipped one of her dad’s old sweatshirt jackets over a loose pink blouse that still fit her expanding figure.
After putting away her hairbrush in the medicine cabinet, she surveyed her handiwork. The small, interior bathroom off the master bedroom was probably the most insulated room of the house. Jolene had moved out the hamper and carried in sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, food and a couple of flashlights.
“Nesting instincts.” Jolene was pleased with herself for seeing to their shelter and making herself slightly more presentable so that Nate wouldn’t worry any more than he had to over her safety. Where was he, anyway? She hadn’t seen him since they’d shared some leftover lasagna reheated in the microwave when they’d first arrived. Shouldn’t he be hovering around her, telling her to stay put right about now?
The knock came again. Definitely the front door. Definitely not the wind.
With a sudden worry about a traveler who might have managed to strand himself in this weather, Jolene shut off the light and dashed through the house. “I’m coming!”
Padding across the cool parquet flooring in her bare feet, she swung open the front door and gaped in surprise. “Nate!”
She pushed open the screened storm door. “Why didn’t you come on