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Leah grew warm at the thought. She’d been in such a state, so overwhelmed by all the emotion that hit her, that when she’d felt his strong arms around her, she’d just given in. “Ah, yeah.”
“Ooh la la,” Juniper said.
“I suppose there’s no point being all shy with him now, after that, is there?”
“Certainly not,” Mikayla replied, her eyes gleaming.
???
“Honestly, how many one in a hundred-year storms can a place have in one year?” Leah muttered to herself as she hunted through the third draw in her kitchen for batteries. Bracing for a blackout, she’d laid out every single candle she owned, made sure her phone was fully charged, the kettle freshly boiled and a packed bag and her car keys ready at the front door. Not that she was likely to leave the house. There was no way in hell she was prepared to drive out in this weather, in the pitch dark. Putting fresh batteries in the torch, she moved to the couch, pulling a blanket around her, ready to bunker down and wait out the storm. The strength of the winds battering the cabin, shaking the windows and rattling the doors made her jumpy. She shivered, even though it wasn’t really that cold inside her little house.
She picked up the tea she’d just made, wrapping her fingers around the mug as thunder boomed overhead. “Jesus Christ,” she gasped. At that moment, she was really starting to question her love of her cabin by the river. She felt very isolated and more than a little afraid. She was also really regretting saying no to Mikayla when she offered her a bed for the night. With Rafe staying at Mikayla’s full time until the kitchen renovation on his own place was complete, Leah hadn’t wanted to cramp their style. They were too newly coupled up to want company. But that was before the scouring wind, lashing rain and crashing thunder. It was only a matter of time before she lost power. She was actually surprised that it had stayed on for this long.
She almost jumped out of her skin at the next crack of thunder, barely restraining herself from bursting into tears. A shower of electric light burst outside her kitchen window. It was followed by an enormous cracking sound as a tree branch pushed through her kitchen ceiling and the power went out. “Fuck. Shit. Bugger. Fuck.” She pushed to her feet, throwing the blanket off, racing to her room to get some shoes. Her hands were shaking, making the torchlight wobbly as she hunted in the bottom of her wardrobe for shoes. Her heart was still pounding as she slid on a pair of ballet flats and moved through the house to the front door. The end of the branch protruded through the plasterwork over the kitchen sink, allowing rainwater to pour in.
Leah blanched as she ripped the front door open, scurrying across the veranda and down to the ground, around the corner of the house. Bitter cold needles of rain speared into her bare legs as she hurried across to the beaten-up old garden shed and she cursed her lack of forethought. She was in her pajamas, hadn’t even paused to grab a rain jacket.
She’d seen a ladder the previous owner had left in the shed and could only hope it was sturdy enough for what she needed to do. Come to think of it, what the hell was she going to do, exactly? Dragging the shed door open, hunching against the pounding rain at her back, Leah shone the torch inside. Okay, tarpaulin. That was something. She pulled it out and threw it over her shoulder, hauling the ladder out and pulling it across the yard to the house. Leaning it up against the side wall, she gave it a shake. It seemed stable enough. Right, so now she had to get something to hold the tarp down. She found a bucket easily enough in the wash house that sat at the bottom corner of the house and grabbed as many rocks as she thought she could haul up the ladder.
With the tarpaulin over her shoulder, the heavy bucket in one hand and the torch lying on top of the rocks, Leah climbed the ladder. It was a bit rickety but held up pretty well, thankfully. Trying not to think of the amount of water pouring into her kitchen, she leaned against the ladder and surveyed the damage, squinting through the blistering rain. She tried pulling on the branch, but it was a lot heavier than she expected, considering it wasn’t actually that big. She barely restrained herself from bursting into tears. This single, independent woman schtick was definitely not all it was cracked up to be, she thought. Then she admonished herself for being such a crybaby and, placing the bucket as securely as she could in the guttering of the roof, tugged on the branch. It shifted barely an inch. She did feel the hot sting of tears then, realizing that she just didn’t have the physical strength to fix this problem and her whole house was going to be flooded.
Then through the din of pouring rain, she heard a rumble. An engine rumble. Someone was coming. She sagged against the wall, bowing her head, almost ready to give a prayer of thanks. The headlights arced across the front of the house, shining directly on her as the truck pulled to a stop.
She peered through the sheeting rain, her heart thudding hard. Callum. He pulled the hood of an olive-green rain slicker up as he came towards her, stopping at the foot of the ladder and shouting up at her, “What the fuck are you doing up there?”
“A tree branch has gone through the roof, into the kitchen,” she shouted back, not sure he could hear her over the howling wind. He gestured for her to come down. She shook her head vehemently. There was no way she was going to leave a gaping hole in her roof if she could help it. She heard him swear, rattle the ladder with one hand to test it, then he climbed up, stopping on the rung below her feet. She felt him pressing against her as he leaned over, wriggling the branch free with one hand and throwing it over the edge of the roof, to the ground. Show off. She pulled the tarpaulin off her shoulder and spread it over the hole, holding it down while Callum put the rocks around the edges. Then he had his arm around her waist and was pulling her forcefully down the ladder, propelling her towards the truck.
CHAPTER FOUR
Climbing into the passenger seat, Leah held her frozen fingers over the heater. Callum got into the driver’s seat, removed his rain slicker and threw it in the back seat. Then he surprised her by taking his sweater off and holding it out to her. She shook her head wordlessly.
“Don’t be stupid. You’ll catch your death.”
“That’s a myth. Being cold doesn’t give you a cold.”
“Well, are you cold or not?”
“Freezing.” She gave up, not really sure why she was arguing anyway. Taking the sweater from him, she stared at him until he turned away, looking through the side window so she could take her pajama top off. She shivered as she slipped his sweater on, still warm from his body heat. “Okay, thanks.” She bunched up her sopping pajama top, holding it in her lap, for want of anywhere else to put it.
They drove back to his parent’s house in silence. Try as she might, Leah couldn’t think of a damn thing to say and Callum didn’t seem inclined to talk. He pulled the truck up in the driveway so that it was lined up with the steps of the back veranda. “Wait there.”
Well, no need to get bossy, she thought, as he grabbed his rain slicker and got out of the car. Then her heart melted when she realized what she was waiting for. He opened the passenger door, holding the slicker so that when she slid out of the car, she was under it. Holding it over both of them, he shut the car door and they ran along the pathway, up the steps and into shelter.
Leah could have cried with relief when they got inside the house. It was blessedly warm. But then, she realized, empty. “Oh, where are your mum and dad?” She asked, bending to greet an overly excited Bluebell before following Callum into the dim kitchen.
“Sydney.”
“Oh.”
“Last minute trip to visit an old friend. The wood heater’s going, if you want to go into the loungeroom. I’ll get some towels.”
“Okay.” The power was out here, too, which made the loungeroom dark and cozy with the soft, orange light from the wood heater the only illumination. Leah lay her pajama top on the top of the heater to dry, slipped out of her ballet flats and put them on the tiles next to the heater. Hopefully they would dry overnight. Then she pulled a beanbag close to the fire, rubbing at her wet legs as she sat down. Callum came in, gave her a towel. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said, before leaving the room, Bluebell close on his heels.
She wiped her legs dry, then wrapping the towel around her hair, squeezed as much moisture as she could from it.
Callum returned with the dog beds, plonking them down on either side of the wood heater and clicking his fingers at Harry. Snuggled up in a ball on the couch, Harry did not show much interest in moving, until Callum ordered him to in a stern voice. None too happy about having to relocate, Harry took his time getting down off the couch and plodding over to his bed. He gave Callum what looked like a baleful glare, turned three or four circles on his mat before curling into a tight ball with a deep groan, his back to the room. Leah couldn’t help but smile. He was the exact opposite of Bluebell, bouncing around at Callum’s feet. Leah’s smile widened to a grin when he said, “Jesus Christ, settle down,” before swooping the pup up in his arms and patting her on the head.
