Rain pounded the roof like stones. The wind howled and the house shuddered. I whispered stories and hummed lullabies, trying to distract Olive while the storm raged on.
The sky lit up white, followed by a sharp crack of thunder that froze me in place, and a crash so loud the floor seemed to shake beneath us.
Olive screamed. I turned my head just in time to see it; part of the old oak in our yard had split, crashing through the corner of the roof. Water poured in, splattering down the kitchen wall.
“Oh God,” I breathed, clutching Olive closer.
The storm lasted another thirty minutes, but it felt like hours. By the time it finally moved on, the silence seemed almost cruel. My little house, the one I had poured so much love into, was broken. Water dripped steadily from the hole in the ceiling, and the corner of the kitchen was already soaked through.
I stood there as Olive trembled against me, and I knew one thing for certain, we couldn’t stay here. Not tonight. Not until someone came to fix our home.
Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed my bag, stuffed a few things into it, and buckled Olive into the car seat. My hands shook as I turned the key, but I kept my eyes steady on the road, driving through puddles and around debris until the warm glow of Blair and Greyson’s porch light finally came into view.
Blair opened the door before I could even knock. Her face fell when she saw me, Olive on my hip, my clothes damp, and hair wild from the storm.
“Oh, Maddie…” she whispered, pulling us both inside without hesitation.
The moment I felt the warmth of her arms around me, I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Olive clung to her aunt, calmer now that we were safe.
“It’s bad,” I admitted, my throat tight. “The roof’s caved in. We can’t go back tonight.”
“You’re not,” Blair said firmly, exchanging a quick look with Greyson, who was already pulling out extra blankets from the hall closet. “You’re staying here.”
For the first time all night, I felt like I could breathe.
I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or how I’d put the pieces of my house back together. But for tonight, we were safe. That was enough.
Chapter 3
Madison
Ibarely slept that night.
Even though Blair had insisted I take the guest room and tucked Olive in beside me, my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Every creak of the old farmhouse had me tensing, as if the storm might suddenly come roaring back. But it wasn’t just that. It was the mess waiting for me at home, the roof, the water damage, the endless list of what I couldn’t possibly afford to fix.
By morning, I was running on fumes. Olive, of course, bounced out of bed like the storm had never happened, her curls wild, her little voice bright as she asked if Aunt Bee would make pancakes.
Blair, being Blair, had already beaten me to the kitchen. There was coffee brewed and bacon already cooked, as Greyson sat at the table sipping from a mug that looked comically small in his big hands. The picture of domestic bliss.
I wanted to be happy for them. Iwashappy for them. But there was this ache too, this tiny twist in my chest at how easy they made it look. Meanwhile, I was barely keeping my head above water.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Blair said gently as I shuffled in. She handed me a mug before I could even ask. “Rough night?”
I nodded, blowing on the coffee before taking a sip. “I kept thinking about the house. It’s bad, Blair. Really bad.”
Her expression softened. “I figured. The storm tore through half the town. But don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”
That ‘we’ made me want to cry.
Greyson leaned back in his chair. “Seth and his crew are already out this morning checking damage. He’s got a team from his firm in town.”
At the sound of that name, my stomach twisted. Seth. Blair’s golden-boy older brother. Wisteria Creek’s prodigal son turned hotshot architect. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear him from years ago, smug and maddening, always ready with a smart remark when we were kids.
I braced myself for the next words, and sure enough, Blair didn’t waste any time.
“Maddie,” she said carefully, like she was approaching a wild animal that might bolt, “I know you can’t go back home yet. Greyson and I…” She trailed off, glancing at him.
Greyson cleared his throat, looking both guilty and apologetic. “We’ve got a lot on our plates right now. With the bar, and… well.” His hand brushed over Blair’s as if to say the rest without words. The trying-for-a-baby thing. I knew.
