Dakota Storm Page 12

  Her phone dinged several times, but she didn't have time to fish it out. Pulling it out in the driving rain probably wasn't the best idea anyway. She’d opted for a cute, colorful case, not a protective case.

  Her mind was racing with too many thoughts. First and foremost, her brother might be stuck out in the field in this torrential downpour. She'd tried calling him earlier, but the call wasn't going through. Circuits busy. She couldn’t keep pulling her phone out in the rain, so she’d given up on calling him. Big Mike was in the ICU. His wife, Nora, was probably out of her mind with worry. Misty glanced over at the fence. She'd fixed it the best she could, and all the cattle but the mother and the calf were inside. Lord only knew where the mother had wandered off to. She couldn’t see but ten or fifteen feet in any direction.

  Misty started to pick up the calf, all legs and slime, but was having a hard time getting it secured in her arms. The damn wind was knocking her sideways, and she couldn't get a good foothold in the mud.

  A gust of wind dropped her like a sack of potatoes. The soaked ground suctioned her knees as though it were holding on to her. The calf let out a weak little “moo” with its eyes wide. The tornado siren was still going, and the situation was quickly becoming impossible. She didn't want to leave the calf, but without the use of her arms she wasn't going anywhere.

  Like an ominous warning, the grayish cast to the sky dimmed until it was almost dark outside.

  As sudden as one of the snaps of lightning all around her, a truck was behind her before she heard it. She jumped, glancing over her shoulder. Jesus, the tire was only a foot away from her boot. David ran around the front of the truck. He was bent at the waist to ward off the driving wind and rain. When he reached her, he wrenched the calf out of her arms. “Get in the truck! Tornado is down!”

  She struggled to get to her feet, and with the first step she took, her foot slipped in the mud like she was standing on a Slip n’ Slide. David bent down with the limp calf in his arms and she grabbed on to his forearm.

  They both heard the tornado at the same time and froze simultaneously. It was an unmistakable, terrifying roar that seemed to suck every other sound into it. At this point, she couldn't even try to see. She could barely open her eyes against the wind-whipped rain. The raindrops felt like needles against the bare skin of her face and arms. The tornado had to be damn close.

  David stood quickly, and by default, she went with him, attached to his arm the way she was. Once inside the cab of the truck, he tossed the wide-eyed calf onto her lap and was behind the wheel in seconds. She'd never seen the man move faster.

  They were going to die.

  “Shit!” David roared as he slammed the truck into reverse. He held on to the back of her seat as he twisted his body to stare out the back window and then pushed the gas pedal to the floor. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Between the tornado taking center stage in the windshield, and the squirming calf trying to hoof his way through her abdomen, there was no way they were going to get out of this unharmed. What if the tires of the truck got stuck in the mud? What if they didn’t make it back to the house? Her heart beat so wildly she was pretty sure she was having a mild heart attack.

  “Hold on,” he yelled. While going in reverse maybe fifteen miles per hour, he threw his right arm across her chest and wrenched the wheel to the right with his left hand. The truck lurched to the side, and for a sick moment she thought they were going to tip. The calf let out a high-pitched “moo,” she squealed, and David dropped a few F-bombs. They now faced the other way, with the tornado in the rearview mirror.

  As he peeled off he hollered, “I told you to get your ass back to the house if it got bad. The damned siren’s been going off for at least five minutes now!” He was obviously livid, if the veins popping out in his neck were any indication.

  “Sorry! I couldn't leave the calf behind!”

  “The hell, woman? Damn!”

  She couldn't tell from which direction the tornado had come or which way it was going. The tornado was now completely rain-wrapped. Staring into the side mirror, all she could see was mud flying from the tires. She wasn't even sure how David could see to drive. Rain came down in torrents, clearing briefly at times, and when it cleared she saw that the trees lining the farm's north side were bent sideways.

  And then she saw the tornado—thick, dense, and terrifying.

  “David, it's coming toward us!”

  She didn't know what else he could do. He was already driving like a bat out of hell, but it made her feel better to shout it out like a screeching cat.

  He took the turn to his parents’ house hard, and the ass end of the truck went sideways. The calf's eyes went round and Misty’s stomach dropped to her muddy boots. When they pulled up to the wraparound porch, he snapped at her to stay in her seat, while he ran around the truck to her side.

  It was the sight of him running around the front of the truck, the headlights hitting his heroic form, that she was taken back to all the times he'd saved her ass when they were growing up. Brought back all the dreams she'd nurtured about them living a happily ever after. Forced her to remember how she'd felt about him as they'd grown up together—as though she couldn't live without him.

  No, not only remember. For the first time in years, she felt those feelings again.

  He wrenched the truck door open, and the wind and rain hit her face, snapping her back to reality. He reached in and took the calf, slipping him under one arm like he would carry a football, and then grabbed her hand with his free hand. She shot out of the pickup and they bounded up the wooden porch steps. Once they were at the front door, Misty opened it. They ran into the house, the wind damn near breaking the door when it banged shut behind them. They both took off down the stairs to the basement. She'd been in his house countless times before, so she knew exactly where they were headed—to the bathroom in the middle of the basement on the south side.

  When they got to the basement, David set the calf down and let it roam free. Both sprinted to the bathroom.

  When he slammed the door shut behind them, she was already in the bathtub with her head down and her ass up. In the space of a heartbeat, he was on top of her, covering her body with his as the house began to shake.

  Breathing hard, his body wrapped around Misty's, David had never felt so damned helpless in his life. Seeing Misty struggling to get off the ground with that calf, the storm raging, and knowing a tornado was bearing down on them, had shot his blood pressure up like a NASA rocket at takeoff. He'd never been so damned relieved to see her, and yet so pissed at finding her.

  He'd been gathering his mother's medications when his cell alarm went off. The National Weather Service had sent out an alert—the tornado watch had turned into a tornado warning. Normally, he wouldn’t have given it much thought, but something in his gut had him jogging toward the stairs. He’d had a bad feeling.

  As he'd been running out of the house, the television in the front living room was still on from this morning, but the news station hadn’t been issuing a simple alert. The anchorman had stated one thing that had rung in David's ears until he'd reached Misty: “Confirmed tornado down in Garner.”

  He’d seen the tornado when he'd rounded the dirt road she'd been on the last time he saw her. Moving at a fast clip, debris mixed up inside the twirling bastard, it was headed straight toward the spot she'd been in. He hadn’t thought he'd reach her in time. Hadn’t thought they'd make it through in one piece.

  Still might not make it in one piece.

  She started to shake, and he instinctively tightened his hold around her waist. “It'll be okay, Misty. It'll be okay.”

  When this was over, and he prayed they came out of it alive, he was going to kill her. He hoped she knew that. Standing down a tornado for a damned calf. Christ, he'd thought she had more sense than that.

  The deep rumbling sound of the tornado drew closer. They were both soaked-through, caked in mud and afterbirth, and no doubt making peace with their m
aker. How many tornado drills had they gone through in their thirteen years of school together? The siren would go off and the kids would be herded into the hallway. Shoulder to shoulder as they hunched down against the wall, just like the position she'd taken in the bathtub.

  He closed his eyes and tightened his hold around her when a loud snap sounded in the other room. A crash that shook the house to the foundation and howling wind followed. Misty held on to his arm for dear life. He was holding her so tightly he wondered if she could breathe. For the first time in forever he prayed. Hard. Begged, more like it. Made promises to be a better person. Bargained.

  Take me, not her.

  And then it was over.

  Literally, one minute they were locked down on a railroad track with Armageddon charging at them, and the next it became so quiet all he could hear was their breathing. His left arm remained locked around Misty’s abdomen, his right palm covering the top of her head as she lay in the bathtub in the fetal position, his own body cradling hers like a protective glove.

  They didn't move. He couldn't. His adrenaline had been pitched to red alert, and part of him wondered if the danger had truly passed. After several moments he eased off her, uncurling slowly. She pushed away from the bottom of the tub and took a deep, shaky breath. The ponytail coming out of her ball cap was caked in mud, as was her clothing. Her entire body moved with the breaths she was taking.

  She wrapped a shaking palm on the side of the tub and straightened her back. She looked like he felt—afraid to move. Could it be over so soon? Was it possible they'd both escaped what he'd thought had been certain death?

  They stayed in the tub, both shocked into stillness. Several more minutes passed, and then they heard the calf's shaky little moo on the other side of the bathroom door.

  “I know what you're going to say,” she said between rapid intakes of breath. “But in my defense, I was trying to save one of your calves, and I had no idea there was an actual tornado bearing down on me.”

  Now that the bargaining chips were off the table, and God decided that both of them needed a little more time on this rock, anger replaced his fear. In fact, it overshadowed just about everything. Misty could have died. She would have died if he hadn't been in Garner to hear the warning. If his mother hadn't forced him to come home to get her meds. If he'd stayed at the house to bunker down, figuring Misty had enough sense to get the hell out of the field and to safety.

  There were so many ifs. He snapped back to the present. Trying to save one of his calves? “Because you're not more important than a fucking animal?”

  She popped out of the tub and turned to face him, anger registering on her flushed, muddied face. “You don't seem to think so. You've treated me worse than your cattle before.”

  He was out of the bathtub in seconds and directly after her. He grabbed her and spun her around before she made it to the door. “You think I'd have run into the path of a tornado for a calf? For all the damn cattle on this property? When are you going to get it through your thick skull? I love you! I always have! How many times do I have to apologize about the past?”

  “Don't you dare. Not right now!” She yanked her arm from his grasp and bolted out of the bathroom.

  He went after her again and stopped just outside the bathroom door. The first thing that stopped him was the sight of his truck. The dented grill dripped rain into the basement, and the left tire spun slowly. The front end had literally slammed into the side of the house and now looked like a damned wall ornament. Drywall was scattered all over the floor. The second thing that stopped him was the simple, stupid sight of that calf. It stood in the center of the room, standing on four, thin, wobbly legs staring up at Misty, drywall sprinkled over its body. Misty gazed up at the truck in disbelief.

  It was all so surreal.

  Within seconds she had her cell out and plastered to her ear. “He's not answering,” she said only a few seconds later, a desperate note etched in her voice.

  Jealousy banged inside his chest like a chute that slammed open at a rodeo. He was getting used to the feeling. “Who?”

  She was likely calling Brandon. Mere seconds had passed since he'd covered her body with his, protecting her. Proving she meant more to him than he could ever put into words. And she was worried about—

  “Matt.”

  Her twin. Yeah. She'd called to check on her brother before she'd even thought of Brandon. For some reason that placated him. A little.

  “He's fine,” he said, even though they both knew he had no idea if Matt was still breathing.

  Instant tears filled her eyes. Whenever it came to her twin, she was a rabid protector. With another glance at the hole in the ceiling, and his truck poking through, she started punching numbers on her phone again.

  “I'll keep trying Matt. You try your dad.” The second the words were out of her mouth she closed her eyes. “I'm sorry. Jesus, I'm sorry. I forgot.”

  “You don't have to apologize.” He tried calling his mother's cell, but the call wouldn't go through. “We're not going to reach them. The cell tower might have been damaged.”

  She headed for the stairs. “I'm going to head out to the field to find Matt. That's where he was last time I talked to him.”

  “I'll go with you.”

  “You don't need to.”

  “Is your truck here?”

  She stopped with her foot on the first step to the upstairs. A few seconds went by until she must have figured out she needed him. “Will you drive me there?” she asked, not even turning around to look at him.

  She knew he would. He glanced at the calf who was nosing around the leather couches. He went and picked it up. “Let's go.”

  Chapter 10

  Misty couldn't stop shaking. A small portion of Big Mike’s house had collapsed on the south side. The truck's ass end was poking out from the house. As she and David did a quick perimeter walk around the house, and put the calf safely in the barn, they could see the swath of destruction in the fields and beyond. She was amazed at how eerily quiet it was outside. Not even a breeze. Only a slight yellowish cast to the sky as light rain fell. The black clouds were well on their way east, yet she was beginning to think their legacy would last for years.

  She still couldn't get a hold of Matt. She pulled her cell out of her jeans, wincing at the fine sheen of water on it, and tried calling again. The notification of “all circuits are busy” message came through instantly. She checked her text messages. Two texts from Matt that warned her of the tornado, so at least she knew he’d known to take cover. Three from David. All David's were the same—Where are you? Tornado down.

  None from Brandon. Where had he been when the twister hit?

  Misty and David walked toward Big Mike's truck to go find Matt. She was desperately trying to keep her shit together, but she feared it might be a losing battle. Seeing David's truck pushed into the house like a child's toy had been an eye-opener. The tornado, an F3 at the very least, must have picked it up and slammed it into the side of the house. The truck from their infamous night together was the same truck he'd jumped in to save her. The same truck that could have killed them.

  David’s words in the house echoed in her head. “I love you! I always have!”

  What the hell had happened back there in that bathroom?

  When they reached Big Mike’s truck she didn’t get in. She just stood there at the door.

  “Hey,” David said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. “He's fine. Okay?” He paused. “They're both fine. We'll get in the truck and head over to your place. He's probably there and worried sick about you.”

  “Yeah,” she said, thinking otherwise but agreeing just to end the conversation. If anything happened to either of them… She was ready to crawl out of her skin at this point.

  In the past few weeks things had changed, but right now? It felt as though an atomic bomb had been dropped into the middle of their lives. David's return had her frazzled. His father, a man who had a
hand in raising her, suffered a massive heart attack that morning. A tornado just blew through town and she didn't know who'd been caught in its path. She needed something solid. Something to steady her. And all she could see was David. If she was being honest with herself, he hadn't exactly proved to be a rock.

  Was Brandon okay? He hadn't answered her call either. What if he'd been in the tornado's path? He would have called her by now unless something happened to him. Then again, she couldn’t reach Matt.

  David let go of her and held open the door to his dad's truck. Someone had left the window down because the seat was soaked. Several tree branches littered the bed. She didn't move. She couldn't take it all in.

  With a sigh, David brought her in for a hug. Mud, afterbirth and all. After what happened, and all the things that were still a big question mark, she could easily forget about David's hit-and-run, but she refused herself that liberty. She held on to the memory of his leaving in order to keep those feelings on the periphery, just as she'd done over the past few days. She had to. It was the only thing keeping him at a distance.

  But that damn vision of him running in front of the truck and fighting the wind and rain to get to her was messing with her mind. Dredging up all the other things he'd done for her throughout the years. Brought up the intense feelings she’d had where he was concerned.

  “Misty, will you ever forgive me?”

  She couldn't deal with this. Not right now. “I need to get to Matt.” And yet she wanted the comfort of being in David’s arms.

  She felt his chest rise against her as he took in a deep breath. “I know. Come on.”

  Just as David leaned back, a deep, strangled voice rang out. “Misty!”

  When she heard the anguished cry her knees nearly gave out. Matt! She was still in David’s arms when her brother and Brandon came sprinting up the driveway. Her brother had been the one who'd screamed her name, and he was running faster than Brandon.