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“What about Abner?”
“Any man who’s lived here for as long as he has will know what to do in a storm. He’ll be all right. We can check on him in the morning.”
Trevor’s flashlight beam, with the dog following, vanished down the hall. Watching him go, Cooper swallowed the tightness in his throat. Underneath the layer of teenage rebellion, his boy was a decent, caring person. His concern for Abner was a sign of that. As a father, Cooper could only hope to protect and guide his son through the challenging years ahead.
Fifteen minutes later, when Cooper came to get the flashlight, he found Trevor asleep with Glory curled next to his legs. For a moment, he stood looking down at them. Then he walked softly out of the room.
* * *
The crash that awakened Jess was like a bomb going off. First there was an ear-splitting boom, then the sound of splintering and cracking above her head. As the ceiling began to sag, she bolted out of bed and raced for the front door, grabbing her coat on the way out. Was it an earthquake? A tornado, or some kind of wreckage from the air, crashing into the house?
Only as she cleared the porch, the ground icy beneath her bare feet, did she see what had happened. The wind had broken off a huge limb from the dead cottonwood in the yard. The limb had crashed into the roof, right above her bedroom. A shudder passed through Jess’s body. With a heavier limb or a different angle, she could have been crushed.
As the shock wore off, she assessed her situation. Could she go back inside—certainly not to stay but to get what she needed? What if the limb were to shift or the ceiling collapse? What if the tree itself were to topple in the wind?
Her car, parked in the driveway, was all right so far. If she could move it out of the way, it would provide warmth and shelter. But the keys were in her purse, in the bedroom. She also needed shoes and some clothes to put on.
The entire street was dark. A power line must’ve gone down somewhere, and probably phone lines as well. So there was no way to call for help.
The fallen limb appeared stable, although there was no way to tell for certain. She would hurry into the house, grab the basic things she needed, and drive to a safe place. That was plan enough for a start. There would be time in the morning to call the insurance company and decide whether it would be safe to rescue the things inside.
Clutching her coat around her, she hurried inside and down the hall. The house was mostly dark, but she knew her way. Wynette’s bedroom, at the far end, appeared to be untouched, but as Jess entered her own room, she could hear what sounded like bits of plaster falling onto the quilt. Her purse and the clothes she’d worn last night were on a chair, her shoes on the floor nearby. She grabbed everything and rushed out of the room just as a hunk of loose plaster crashed onto the bed. Heart pounding, she fled back to the living room, dressed, and after locking the door behind her, made a fast escape to her car. The dashboard clock read 2:08 a.m.
Safe for the moment, she drove toward the main part of town, hoping to find a place offering shelter and a phone. But the power appeared to be out everywhere. A police cruiser passed her going the opposite direction, lights flashing, siren blaring. Someone was in trouble. No help for her.
So what now? She had less than a quarter tank of gas in her car and couldn’t fill the tank while the power was out. She couldn’t just keep driving to keep warm, and she didn’t relish spending the night in a cold parked car, especially with no bathroom facilities nearby.
She could go to Grace and Sam’s or join Buck and Wynette. But their power was out, too. She’d be disturbing them for nothing. Cooper, however, lived outside of town. There was a chance his place still had power along with a working phone and computer to report the damage. He’d urged her to contact him any time she needed help. Well, she needed help now.
Praying there would be no trees down, she headed south on the road to his ranch.
She spotted the turnoff, where the For Sale sign had hung. However, as she drove along the bumpy dirt road, there were no lights anywhere. It appeared that the power was out here, too. But if she were to turn around and head back to town, she could run out of gas on the way. She was out of choices.
As she passed the ranch gate and swung the headlights toward the house, she saw the flicker of a light. Cooper stood in the open doorway holding a flashlight. As he recognized her car, he came sprinting across the yard. He was fully dressed. Maybe he’d stayed up to keep an eye on things at the ranch.
As he came up to the car, she lowered her side window. “Jess? Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m all right, but my house isn’t.” She told him what had happened.
“Good Lord, you could’ve been killed!” He opened the door and lent his hand as she braced herself against the wind. Swaying and stumbling, they made it to the porch.
“Sorry about the power,” he said. “The phone lines are down, too. We’re living like pioneers out here.”
“It’s the same all over town. I was hoping your place would have light. But either way, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. My car is almost out of gas.”
His laughter was deep and mellow. “Well, then, I’d say this is my lucky night. Come on in.”
He opened the door. She was met with a rush of cheery warmth and soft amber light from the smoldering fireplace.
“Here. Take the chill off while I build up the fire.” Cooper tossed her a soft woolen blanket before he added another log and a few more sticks of kindling. Flames caught the dry wood, which soon became a crackling blaze. Curled on the sofa, Jess snuggled into the blanket, basking in the warmth of the fire.
“How are you doing now?” Cooper asked.
“Heavenly. Thank you.”
“Then how about some hot coffee? The electric machine is out but I can make it cowboy-style on the gas stove.” He picked up a battered and burned metal coffeepot. “This came with the house. When I worked on a ranch one summer, the cook made coffee in a pot like this. It just needs to boil for a while.” He measured the coffee and water and set the pot on the gas flame.
“No filter?” she commented from the sofa.
