Marrying the Cowboy. Trish Milburn
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dark listening to the world ripping apart, his heart hammering, praying that they would be okay, cursing that he hadn’t had time to get them to the shelter, as well. That was his job, protecting people, and he’d felt like an utter failure as he could only imagine what all the noise above him meant.
Pete rubbed his aching eyes and then forced himself to keep them closed, to try to quiet his mind. But the images kept up their barrage, preventing him from getting the sleep he needed.
The swath of destroyed homes, the uprooted trees, the debris spread across what felt like the entire county. The disbelief and sorrow on Elissa’s face as she’d stared at the damaged nursery. Sure, he’d lost his home, but it was just a house, the place where he’d lived after moving out on his own. The things that hurt were those that he couldn’t replace, especially the family photos. His heart squeezed, making him wince. He couldn’t even take new photos to replace them with his parents both gone.
He shook his head, unwilling to think about that now. His thoughts drifted back to Elissa, to the shocked disbelief on her face that had seemed so out of character. It was rare to see Elissa Mason anything other than smiling or being deliberately ornery in pursuit of laughter. To see her standing there in the rain looking at the ruins of her nursery would have kicked him in the gut even if he hadn’t already been reeling from his own loss.
He considered rousting himself and going to her house to make sure she was okay, but his body just wasn’t willing to comply. It was as if everything other than his brain had temporarily forgotten how to function. As the thoughts continued to fly, he realized they were making less and less sense. The last thing he remembered before he stopped thinking altogether was the look of relief on Elissa’s face when she’d jerked open that shelter door. The edge of his lips ticked up as sleep finally claimed him.
When he opened his eyes again, it felt as if he’d just closed them. He blinked several times, disoriented. It took a moment for him to realize that someone was standing over him, a couple more seconds for the person’s face to come into focus.
“Really?” Verona said, her arms crossed. “You prefer a jail bunk to my empty guest room?”
Pete swallowed and blinked a bit more sleep from his eyes. As he lifted himself to a sitting position, he grimaced against the crick in his back. As he stretched the aching muscles, he reminded himself to never do anything that would make him a forced guest in this cell. He was beginning to think the concrete floor actually would have been preferable.
“Well?” Verona said.
“Sorry. I was just too tired to drive over. I did good to make it this far.”
“Well, then, I suggest you quit work a little earlier tonight. You give me a time, and I’ll have a nice hot meal ready for you.”
“Verona, really—”
“Boy, how long have you known me?”
Pete ran his hand over his face. “Forever.”
“Then you should know you’re not going to win an argument with me.” She ruffled his already mussed hair as if he were a little boy.
His heart ached at the gesture, at the memory of his mom doing the same thing. He nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Now if I can just convince that niece of mine to come home at a decent time.” Verona turned and headed out of the cell, no doubt shifting her efforts to Elissa.
By the time he put in another long day, he didn’t need any convincing to head for Verona’s and the promised hot meal. Plus, the lure of a real bed instead of the torture rack of a cell bunk would be enough to make him crawl all the way to his street.
* * *
ELISSA STRETCHED HER back and stared at the heaping pile of lost revenue she’d spent the past two days constructing at the edge of the nursery parking lot. Dead plants and shredded lumber mingled with countless chunks of broken pottery and twisted metalwork. The pile was an ugly reminder of all she’d lost in the space of a few minutes, but she couldn’t get rid of it until she dealt with the insurance adjuster, whenever that might be.
Like the restoration of electricity, dealing with all the claims in the area was going to take time, no matter how badly she wished she could move both things into the “taken care of” column on her to-do list.
Left with barely any daylight, she turned and dragged her tired, overworked body toward her SUV. Her stomach growled to remind her that she’d not been eating enough to fuel all the work she was doing. Her employees had helped out earlier in the day, but they’d been gone for a couple of hours. She’d worked from near daybreak to dark the past two days, and she still didn’t feel as if she’d made a dent.
Still, she couldn’t complain too much, not when two lives had been lost at the edge of the county and others besides Pete had lost their homes. At least she had a comfortable place to sleep at night, some peace and normality. Suddenly, nothing sounded better than collapsing into her bed and sleeping for twelve hours straight.
As she drove back into the main part of Blue Falls, the lights blazing in the windows told her that electricity had been restored. When she reached the house and pulled into the garage beside Verona’s little car, Elissa didn’t immediately get out. Fatigue settled on her along with the realization that if she didn’t get more sleep tonight, she was going to run out of steam way before she got the nursery property cleaned up and on the road to recovery. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, felt herself drifting.
Pecking on the window startled her fully awake. She gasped at the sight of someone standing there, someone not Verona, until she realized it was Pete. With a shake of her head, she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out.
“What are you trying to do, scare me to death?”
“You’ve been sitting out here for ten minutes.”
“And you know this how?”
Pete crossed his arms and leaned one hip against the fender of her vehicle. “Because Verona and I are hungry, and we were waiting for you to come in.”
That’s when she caught the distinctive scent of freshly baked bread. Elissa’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food.
Pete smiled. “Looks like we’re not the only ones hungry.”
“I can’t decide if I’m more hungry or exhausted.”
“Also know how that feels.” Pete nodded toward the door that led into the kitchen. “Come on. She made chicken and dumplings.”
Comfort food. That’s what they all needed right now, even though dumplings were usually winter fare. She made her way into the kitchen and collapsed onto the nearest chair.
As Verona set a fresh basket of yeast rolls on the table, she squeezed Elissa’s shoulder. “You’re working too hard, honey.”
“It won’t get done if I don’t work. And the longer it takes, the longer I don’t have any income.”
Verona slipped into her chair at the opposite end of the table as Pete pulled out a chair between them and sank onto it, looking every bit as tired as Elissa felt.
“All I’m saying is that it won’t hurt anything to sleep in a bit tomorrow, both of you.”
Throughout dinner, they talked about the storm’s aftermath.
“It’s so sad about the Claytons,” Verona said with a shake of her head. None of them really knew the older couple, but they’d seemed nice enough when they’d come into town from their posts as hosts at the state park campground several miles out of town. They’d been found in the twisted remains of their RV. “But it’s a miracle no one else was killed.” Verona patted Pete’s hand.
Elissa’s frazzled emotions had a lump forming in her throat at the idea of how close Pete had come to also being a casualty. She’d never lost a close friend, and the mere thought made her want to cry buckets. And she wasn’t even a crier. It was