The Storm You Chase (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  Upon arriving at the turn-off to Lost Pines, he drained a bottle of water and finished an energy bar. He didn’t know what time a meal would be served, and he’d forgotten to eat lunch. As promised, Clint had called Bayou-Burn to set up an appointment to speak with Seth Wilder. His secretary informed him her boss was out of town, but she’d pass along a message as soon as possible. He’d left his number, as well as Kyd’s and Rowan’s. Now, all they could do was wait.

  As the road narrowed and curved, Clint slowed down even more. The snail’s pace gave him opportunity to admire the Longhorn cattle on either side of the road, grazing on green rye grass, some lazily chewing their cuds. He didn’t go far before he noticed a familiar figure. Joseph was standing next to a pickup parked along the right-of-way. He appeared to be laughing and giving the driver directions. Clint could see him pointing on down the road, then leaning in to shake the individual’s hand. Easing up behind the truck, he waited for his cousin to notice him. Only a few second’s passed before his patience was rewarded.

  “Hey, Clint!” As he waved the other driver on, Joseph came alongside Clint’s truck.

  “Am I heading in the right direction?”

  “You are.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I was just up at the house speaking to Desiree, then came out to find Canyon Brady driving in.”

  Clint looked in the indicated direction and noticed an impressive log cabin tucked back in the pines. “Nice place. Is Canyon one of the recruits?”

  “Yea, he is. Let me hop in and we’ll head down to the commons. I’ll introduce you around.”

  Clint waited while Joseph came around to the passenger side and climbed in. “So, is this going to be fun? Or am I going to feel like I’m back in school?”

  Joseph rubbed his hands together, then reached up to direct the vent blowing warm air more directly on him. “Well, there is material to digest. For example, we’ll go over lost person behavior, tracking, and swift water rescue.” He pointed for Clint to make a right turn ahead. “I think you’ll enjoy it, though. We mix physical activity in with the exercises. Most everything is hands on participation, there’s not a lot of long lectures to absorb.”

  Clint made the turn, liking what he was hearing. “Sounds interesting.”

  “Just park by my white pickup. Most everyone is waiting in the dining hall where we’re going to hold the classes.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “You can leave your bag in here. We’ll announce the sleeping arrangements a little later.”

  Clint met Joseph on the sidewalk in front of them. As they moved closer to the entrance, Clint could see several guys waiting on them. The only one he could recognize was his cousin, Tennessee.

  “Clint.” The two men shook hands.

  “Ten. How’s Molly?”

  “Mad at you.”

  “Why? What did I do?” Clint asked curiously.

  “She’s jealous you took me storm chasing and she didn’t get to go.”

  “Ha!” This amused Clint no end. “Well, we’ll have to remedy that situation. The next time a big cell moves through, I’ll holler. If she’s free to go with me, I’ll be glad to take her.”

  “She’ll hold you to it, believe me.”

  “I won’t forget. I sure don’t want to get on Molly’s wrong side.” He looked over at a very serious looking man with long, dark hair. “Clint Wilder.”

  “Beau Le Blanc.” They shook hands.

  “Beau’s one of our original team,” Joseph told Clint. “He owns a firearm business and a reptile preserve in Louisiana.”

  “Those are two very intriguing interests,” Clint observed, truly fascinated.

  “Oh, I could tell you some stories, man.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “We’ll make the time.” Beau clapped Clint on the back, then hailed a smiling man cutting across the lawn toward them. His hair was almost as long as Beau’s, held back with a leather cord. “Bowie! Did you get my message?” After giving Clint and Joseph an apologetic nod, “Excuse me, guys,” he took off to greet his friend.

  Joseph placed a guiding hand on Clint’s arm. “Let’s go in, I think almost everyone else is here.”

  They stepped into the rustic eating hall and saw four men already seated, two at a table. He aimed at an empty one, pulling out a chair.

  At the front, a big man wearing a black Stetson stepped forward with a smile. “Good evening. I’m Tanner Barron. Welcome to my home.” He glanced around. “I think we’re waiting on one more person. We’ll get started as soon as she arrives.”

  She.

  As soon as the word left Tanner’s lips, Clint felt a strange feeling of anticipation. Chill bumps skated down his body. Odd – this energy high was almost the same feeling as he experienced when a storm was fast approaching.

  … Out on the highway, Jensen slowed, not wanting to miss her turn. “Lost Pines. There it is.” Thanks to Austin traffic and a late arriving appointment, she was running just a tad late. With wide eyes, she took everything in. There was no denying, she was excited at the prospect of this adventure.

  On either side of the narrow dirt road, loblolly pines rose straight and tall. Between those stately sentinels, longhorn cattle roamed, the spread of their horns so wide they sometime had to tip their head sideways to walk between the trees. As she eased down the lane, Jensen kept her eyes peeled so as not to miss where she was supposed to go. She’d only driven about a quarter of a mile when she noticed a pretty lady standing near a mailbox flagging her down.

  The closer she came, the more familiar the woman looked. A thrill shot through her as Jensen remembered Libby telling her that Tanner was married to the country music star.

  Coming to a stop, Jensen rolled her window down. “Hello.”

  “Jensen Mistretta?”

  “Ms. Holt. Hey!” She went all fan-girl for a few moments. “It’s so good to meet you.”

  “Call me Desiree, please. Let me climb in and I’ll show you where to go.” She ran around the car to sit next to Jensen. “Since you and I are the only girls at this rooster party, I wanted to come down and greet you.”

  “Thanks, that’s so nice of you.”

  “You’re cool as a cucumber, aren’t you?” Desiree grinned. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be nervous. You’re a doctor, right? I bet med school and your residency program were a heck of a lot scarier than a bunch of testosterone laden he-men. Anyway…” Desiree waved her hand in the air, giving Jensen a glimpse at a big diamond on her wedding ring finger. “Even if you were worried, there’s no need to be. These men are the salt of the earth. I can personally vouch for all of them.” She pointed straight ahead. “Just keep going, you’ll see a group of buildings on your right. Park next to all the other vehicles.”

  “Okay. Are you enjoying living in this part of the world?” Jensen couldn’t keep from stealing glances at a woman whose every song she knew by heart.

  “I’m happy anywhere Tanner is happy.” She winked at Jensen. “Actually, Austin is my hometown.”

  “So, you’re married to a local man?”

  “Yes, I am. Long story. We met years ago when he saved me from a mugger on 6th street. If he hadn’t come along, I’m not sure what would’ve happened. He was my white knight then, he’s my reason for living now.”

  Jensen felt a funny, almost déjà vu like sensation. She’d been rescued by a white knight also. “You think fate brought you together.”

  “I believe so. I think Tanner and I were meant to be.”

  She remembered Clint saying something similar about them. Even as her heart skipped a beat at the thought, her mind rejected the idea. Fate played no part in their relationship. In fact, they didn’t have a relationship – she’d made sure of that when she pushed him away.

  After finding a parking place, Jensen followed Desiree into the dining hall. They’d no more than walked through the door before the man standing at the front of the room hailed them with a greeting.

  “And here they are…Ge
ntleman, for those of you who’ve never met her, I’d like to introduce my wife, Desiree Holt.” Tanner looked as proud as a peacock. “And the lady at her side is our sixth participant, Dr. Jensen Mistretta.”

  While Desiree worked the room, taking the time to speak to everyone, Jensen found an empty chair. Once she was seated, she took an opportunity to glance at the others in the room. As her eyes moved from man to man, she recognized no one until her gaze finally came to rest on her own table companion and…Jensen almost swallowed her tongue.

  “Hey.” With an uplifted eyebrow, Clint Wilder surveyed her with an unreadable expression. “Fancy meeting you here,” he mouthed in her direction.

  Jensen stared at him with disbelieving eyes. “What in the hell are you doing here?” she whispered intently.

  Since everyone else in the room was watching and listening to Tanner Barron’s celebrity wife, Clint leaned to the side to answer her. “I might ask you the same thing. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jensen lifted her chin with a hint of defiance. “This time is a gift I gave to myself. A chance to give back to the community.”

  “Yea, right.” Clint snorted at her response. “You’re stalking me. I knew you would.”

  “Fat chance!” Jensen hissed as Tanner Barron began to speak.

  “All right. While we get started, Desiree will make sure we have ample coffee and snacks.”

  “Do we get a song with our coffee?” A big man wearing a T-shirt that read That’s What I Do. I Forge and I Know Things.

  “Maybe later, Canyon.” Tanner winked at his wife. “We’ll have a cookout tonight. Perhaps, we’ll have some music.” He looked around the room. “My Desi’s not the only one here who can sing. Joseph just recorded a new song with Willie Nelson, and Zion just came off tour with Judah James’ group, Shiloh.”

  Beau raised his hand. “I can play a pretty mean Cajun fiddle.”

  Tanner chuckled. “Well, we’d love to hear that, Beau. I also look forward to you telling us some of your tall tales around the campfire. Now, however, I’d like to officially welcome all of you to our home and tell you how honored I am to be a part of this group. I don’t think it would be wrong to compare what we do to a special forces’ unit. We go where we’re needed, and we do things others are not prepared to do. We’re an elite group with specific skill sets. You have been invited to take part in this session to see if this endeavor would be a good fit for you. To kick things off, let me invite one of the cofounders of our group, Joseph McCoy to say a few words.”

  Joseph came to the front of the room and placed his cowboy hat on a folding table to his right. “Thanks, Tanner. I, too, would like to welcome you. This group, for the most part, was handpicked. Each of you are exceptional people.” He leaned on the podium, folding his hands, very comfortable with the topic and his role as leader. “Over the last few years, the number of people requiring search and rescue has increased dramatically across the board. For example, in Utah alone, rescues are up a stunning sixty-eight percent. Why, you might ask?” Joseph shrugged. “I don’t really have an answer. To my way of thinking, society is more health conscious, information about places to visit and activities to enjoy are more readily available on social media, and this expanded interest doesn’t necessarily coincide with a greater aptitude for survival.” He laughed. “Not to belittle folks who want to get more active and physically fit, but just going down to the local outdoor gear store and buying a pile of fancy equipment doesn’t qualify you to endure what mother nature can throw at you.”

  Jensen found herself nodding. Joseph was voicing some of her own concerns and observations. In spite of her resolve not to, she found herself stealing a glance at Clint. He was totally absorbed in what was being said, so she turned her attention back to Joseph.

  “As the need for rescues increase, so does the need for qualified responders. This isn’t a job, guys, this is a calling. In our case, nine times out of ten there will be no financial recompense, no salary, no reward involved. Most people who require assistance don’t pay for their rescue. In many instances, there are agencies involved – the Coast Guard, the National Park Service, local sheriffs’ offices – and if that’s the case, these organizations absorb part or all of the cost. Other times it’s a network of volunteers, like our group, who are called in to help.” Joseph took a moment to meet the gaze of each person in the room, one at a time. “For those of us who feel led to invest our time, money, and safety to perform this type of service, we do it because we understand the draw of the wild – the outdoors, the excitement. I think it has something to do with the nature of the ‘extreme’ athlete, which I… professed to be at one time.” He laughed wryly. “Before I flipped my dirt bike and paralyzed myself from the waist down.”

  Jensen frowned. This was news to her. She saw some of the men nodding in understanding, others looked as confused as she did. Whatever Joseph’s story, he wasn’t paralyzed any longer.

  “For people like me, the mountain face can never be sheer enough and the white water can never run fast enough. Thrill-seekers will always search for ground everyone else fears to tread. This kind of mindset is what breeds victims as well as those, like us, who will step up to lend them aid when they need it.” Holding up both hands, he seemed to call a halt to his own musings. “Bottom line, there’s a need for what we do. Now, none of us can be an expert at everything, so one of the things you need to do this weekend is zero in on what aspect of SAR speaks to you. In order to do that, we’re going to offer a variety of exercises for you to choose from. You’ve all completed the online courses and made some decent grades – for the most part…” He eyed Canyon with a shake of his head.

  “Hey, school was never my forte, boss. I learn by doing, not bookwork.”

  “Oh, you did fine.” Joseph gave him a grin. “You all did. We’re going to divide you into teams for training and at the end of this session you’ll be sent out on a test run. Upon completion of your mission, we’ll decide together whether this is something you’re called to do – or not.”

  Jensen was listening so hard she didn’t notice Clint leaning in to speak to her until she felt his warm breath on her neck. “Admit it. You feel the same thing I do.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, keeping her eyes toward the front.

  “This calling we share. Don’t you find it intriguing how much we have in common?”

  “We have nothing in common. I’m a medical professional and you’re a jock.”

  “Shhh. We need to listen.” Clint placed a finger over his lips as Tanner introduced the next speaker.

  “Greetings, my name is Bowie Travis Malone. I think I know most of you already, for the few of you who don’t know me, I’m a simple guy, I move dirt for a living. Not a particularly satisfying job, but I get my sense of purpose in other things – like my family and what we do here. I’ve been on both ends of SAR, I’ve been privileged to bring a small child back to life after he’d spent an hour beneath an icy river and I’ve been pulled to safety myself by Joseph McCoy after being trapped in Jacob’s Well, a deep underwater cave near Wimberley.”

  Mesmerized by what Bowie was saying, Clint’s attention momentarily strayed from his table companion – until he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. She was slowly moving her elegant hand down the table as she pushed a piece of paper toward him. Pressing his lips together, he accepted the offered communique. What were they? Junior high kids passing notes in class? Unfolding the paper, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

  YOU NEED TO LEAVE. THIS PLACE ISN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US.

  Chapter Six

  Leave? And miss all the fun? Was she kidding? Clint smiled, envisioning them facing off like gunfighters at the O.K. Corral. Only in his fantasy, she wasn’t wearing jeans and a gun. No Jensen faced him in only a sheer, white dress, the billowy fabric of the full skirt revealing all of her finest assets. Instead of Grace Kelly, this
vision reminded him of Marilyn Monroe in the iconic scene when she stood over a subway grate, fighting a sneaky upward breeze.

  Refusing to glance at Clint while he read her note, Jensen focused on the others in the room. Tennessee McCoy was telling everyone of his experiences rescuing people in Big Bend National Park on the Texas/Mexico border. After recounting a story about rappelling down a vertical canyon wall, he summed up his comments by challenging them to redefine their definition of a hero.

  “You know, we all tend to think heroes are born, that there’s a unique gene for empathy and the need to live by a particular moral code. I propose to you that people can learn to be heroes. Do you have what it takes? We think you do, or you wouldn’t have been invited here today. Building empathy, becoming competent and skilled, and being persistent in the face of obstacles are all abilities we can develop to be ready to help others when we’re needed the most.”

  “Pssst. Pssst.”

  Jensen inhaled a breath and held it, taking the proffered note as Clint pushed it toward her folded hands on the table. Cutting him a scathing glance, she brought the scrap of paper under her own palm.

  Meanwhile, Beau LeBlanc claimed the floor.

  “Bon jour. I’m not going to regale you with stories of my legendary exploits.” The big Cajun grinned. “I’m here to get you talking. I’d like for each of you to introduce yourself and tell us why you’re here. Adam, you go first.”

  Clutching the note in her hand, Jensen watched as the handsome man to her left stood slowly to his feet.

  “Hello. I’m Adam Barclay, an attorney. I’m a partner in Zane Saucier’s law firm. If you don’t know Zane, he’s Sheriff Kane Saucier’s twin brother. Anyway, my interest stems from a search I participated in some years ago, a woman who was kidnapped and tortured.” He bowed his head to look down. “The authorities looked for her for weeks, we finally found her being held captive in an underground storm cellar.” Glancing up, Adam looked around the room. “I know we normally think of search and rescue as being limited to the wilderness or the mountains, but I suspect many of these techniques can be utilized for any missing person. The next time I’m faced with such a task, I want to be better prepared.”