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Rory and Marcus swung into action, helping the younger ones to don warm clothing and coats while Mrs. Taylor packed clothes. Once they’d finished, he and Rory took a child each and piggy-backed them through the water. They loaded them into Rory’s vehicle at the rear and returned for two more children.
Rory left with the four kids and their belongings. When Marcus returned from his second trip, the little girl was crying, and Mrs. Taylor wasn’t far from weeping, either. “The cat?” he asked.
Mrs. Taylor lifted her right hand. Nasty scratches bloomed blood on her forearm.
“Where is it?”
“I trapped Tabitha in the bedroom to the right, but I couldn’t catch her.”
“You get your stuff and wait in my vehicle. I won’t be long.”
Ten minutes later, Marcus strode outside with the snarling cat locked inside her carry cage. Mrs. Taylor goggled at his scratched face and arms and started apologizing.
“It’s all right,” he said, although inwardly, he cursed the feline. He got she was frightened and had sensed his wolf, but he was trying to save the wretched animal. “We have the cat.” In the short time he and Rory had been here, the water had risen farther, and it now lapped at the top step.
It was a slow drive to town. The rain was still torrential, and visibility was poor. His truck slipped and slid on the slick road, and Mrs. Taylor pressed her hands against the dash, a hiss escaping her. When Marcus finally pulled up at the town hall, she relaxed.
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come to help.” She glanced at the scratches on his cheek and winced. “Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He helped her carry her bags into the hall before searching for Saber and Rory. He found the two men together.
“What happened to you?” Rory asked.
Marcus scowled at the rapidly healing scratches on his hands. “Mrs. Taylor’s cat. We had a difference of opinion.”
Rory made a tsking sound while Saber grinned.
“Go home,” Saber said to Rory. “We’ve done what we can, although if the rain continues, I’m worried the town will flood. I’d prefer if you were at home with your families.” He consulted his list. “Marcus, would you mind dropping in to see old Mrs. Hunter? She’s a wily old bird and self-sufficient, but I’d rest better if someone checked on her. It won’t take you much out of your way. She lives on Rata Road, which isn’t far from you. Look for a bright red mailbox on the right-hand side of the road. She lives at the end of a long drive.”
Marcus’s wolf stirred.
Mate.
“Sure, I’ll do it now,” Marcus said, ignoring his wolf. The woman was old, stooped, and probably twice his age, given her wizened face. “Call if you need help with anything. You too, Rory.”
“Our place should be out of harm’s way, but I’d prefer to get home. The water is rising fast,” Rory said.
“Go. Both of you,” Saber said. “Valerie and Agnes have everything in hand. I’d like to go home to Emily and the girls.”
Rory and Marcus headed out together and parted ways at their vehicles. It was dark now, and most residents would hunker down in their homes and hopefully stay safe from the floodwaters. Marcus pulled out and drove toward home. While he loved Middlemarch life—more peaceful after living with Elizabeth Henderson throwing her weight around—he found himself lonely. Building furniture helped to fill the empty hours, as did doing repairs to his house, but he couldn’t help feeling envious of Rory, who’d found Anita. The other couples in Middlemarch were close, and seeing happy couples—mates—in every direction didn’t help to squelch his envy.
Deep in thought, he almost missed the turnoff to Rata Road. He stopped and backed up to take the left-hand turn onto the gravel surface. It was more like a fast-racing stream than a road, and his tires struggled to gain traction. He changed down a gear and muscled his way through the mud and water.
A jagged lightning bolt lit his surroundings, and he spotted the red mailbox by luck. Seconds later, a thunderclap sounded directly overhead. Marcus winced and brought his vehicle to a standstill as his headlights illuminated what looked like a lake. He wouldn’t be driving this road. He hesitated because Saber had said Mrs. Hunter was a capable woman. Then his shoulders slumped. He’d never forgive himself if something happened because he hadn’t checked on her.
Decision made, he parked on the highest spot he could find and hoped the floodwater wouldn’t do any damage before his return. He reached over into the rear seat to grab his heavy raincoat. Water spilled over the top of his gumboots a mere four steps from the truck, and he cursed under his breath. Old Mrs. Hunter was a pain in his backside.
Mate, his wolf supplied.
“Not helpful,” Marcus ground out. He couldn’t even be confident the scent had come from her. What if she’d come into contact with the true owner of the fragrance? But Mrs. Hunter might answer his questions if he asked because there was something about the mystery fragrance that had spiked need and want in him and his wolf.
Marcus splashed through the water. In the distance, he spotted lights. Reports had come in that the electricity was out in parts of Middlemarch, so she was lucky. At the very least, he might get a hot drink upon arrival.
3
Rialistenedtothethump of the rain on the roof. Outside, bolts of lightning streaked across the night sky. Thumber boomed overhead, and she swore ozone filled the air, which was not great. The strikes were too close. The wind howled like a mythical banshee, and the trees rattled and creaked, leaves and small branches flying. Now and then, the scratchy thunk of branches striking her roof added to the cacophony of the storm soundtrack.
Uneasiness skittered down her spine, and she jumped to her feet and stalked to her tiny kitchen. She filled her kettle and put it on to boil, part of her surprised the power hadn’t failed. She’d feel better if she could fill her thermos.
