She pushed the door open and braced it with her leg, letting Banshee slip out first. She followed, reaching back for her bag. The wind slammed into the door, pushing it into the back of her head and shoulder, making her see stars.
“Shit,” she called out, leaning against the cab and pressing a hand to the back of her head. Banshee whimpered, circling her. “It’s okay,” she said, holding on to the truck bed to stay upright.
The wind roared like an out-of-control freight train.
Banshee started barking. He whined, then ran off, barking furiously.
“Banshee?” She blinked, staring into the thick red air. No sign of him. She couldn’t see much through the dust clouds. If he’d left her in search of shelter, she didn’t blame him. She clung to the truck bed, reaching back to probe the lump on the back of her head. “You’re fine,” she murmured. There was blood. She shook her head, but that hurt, too.
The wind carried sound to her, distorted and wavering. She heard Banshee, but he sounded far away. Someone was yelling? And that damn roaring wind. She needed to get inside. Banshee needed to get inside. The damn cabin had lasted this long, she’d hope it would make it through this time.
“Banshee!” she called, but the wind whipped it away. She clung to the truck, a sudden gust of wind kicking up dust and making it near impossible to see. Up until now, she’d dismissed Dr. Edwards’s announcement. But now, now she was beginning to panic.
“Banshee?” she yelled, letting go of the truck and staggering a few steps. She was light-headed. Probably a concussion. Great. She just needed to make it to the house.
The wind died suddenly, an eerie quiet falling.
“Tandy?” Click called out, running through the tall grass to get to her.
“Click?” She wavered, too dizzy to react or move quickly. “I hit my head,” she called out when he was closer. “Concussion, I think.”
He was there, in front of her, staring down at her. “I’m carrying you,” he said, scooping her up before she could protest. Not that she was going to protest. The world seemed too off-kilter to move. And now was one of those times when they needed to move.
But Click had bigger responsibilities. “Pearl?” she stiffened, panicking.
“Scarlett has her in the storm cellar,” he said, holding her close against his chest as he hurried back across the grass. “Where we’re going.”
Her relief was instantaneous. So was her temper. “Why the hell are you out here? You have a daughter to think of.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
By the time they reached the storm cellar, the wind had picked up again. It was worse this time, the dirt and grit stinging her cheeks and blinding them. She hung on to Click, knowing she was safe in his arms. He was stumbling forward, somehow managing to stay on his feet. Were they moving? She couldn’t tell.
“About time,” Scarlett said as they descended the concrete steps into the storm cellar.
Tandy wiped her eyes, coughing and sneezing and grabbing the back of her head. The deafening roar of the wind stopped, signaling Click had closed the doors.
Banshee’s nose pressed against her chest, his deep-chested rumble making it easier to breathe.
“Good to see you, too,” she said, stroking his broad neck.
“He came to get Click,” Scarlett said. “Good thing, too, we were about to shut the doors.”
“Ta-dee?” Pearl asked, her little hands gripping hers before Tandy could truly see.
“Hi, Pearl,” she managed, wiping her eyes until it was easier to focus. “Hi, sweet cuddle bunny.” She blinked, still coughing, until she could see. It was surprisingly bright in the small concrete room.
Click kneeled in front of her on the ground. “You doing okay?” he asked, his gaze searching hers.
“Fine,” she said, wishing she meant it. Her head was throbbing and, if the wet sensation on the back of her neck wasn’t sweat, still bleeding.
“Don’t lie to me, Tandy.” His tone was harsh.
She blinked, startled by the severity of the concern in his voice. “Any water?” she whispered.
A water bottle was pressed into her hand.
“Bandana?” she asked. “Towel?”
“Sorry,” Scarlett said, shaking her head.
She nodded. Now that things were a little clearer, she knew her head was bleeding. And throbbing. “I think I need stitches. My head.” She winced as her fingers probed through her hair. When she held her hand out, her fingers were covered in blood.
“Oh, Tandy.” Scarlett’s eyes went round.
“I’m wearing a T-shirt underneath. It’s probably still clean enough to hold against the cut.” She unbuttoned a button of her blouse, but the pain in her shoulder made it difficult. “I hurt my shoulder, too. I need some help.”
“Ta-dee?” Pearl said.
Banshee whimpered.
“I’m okay.” She smiled at the baby girl. “Are we playing hide-and-seek from the wind?”
Click unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. “Hold this, Pearl?” he asked, smiling as Pearl wrapped it around her like a robe.
Pearl giggled, spinning around.
“Looks good,” he said, shrugging out of his undershirt. “Fresh out of the dryer.” He offered her the white cotton undershirt. “Pearl and I did laundry this morning.”
But Tandy was having a hell of a hard time concentrating again. Only this time it had nothing to do with the pain in her head. Instead it was all Click and the wall of muscle that was his amazing chest—within her reach. He was far too tempting a specimen. Being this close, wrapped in his scent, made it impossible to think.
Or it was the concussion?
Her gaze wandered, exploring every familiar inch.
His tattoo, the only mark on his beautiful body, circled the muscles of his upper arm. Her name. On his skin. She no longer had a right to him, yet the ownership was there—warming her through. The urge to trace her name burned her fingertips. But it vanished when she looked closer. There were more lines now, smaller, detailed. Spelling out...
Amelia.
Her lungs seemed to collapse in on themselves. The pain in her head paled as the agony in her chest blossomed, encompassing every inch of her until she couldn’t contain it. Her gaze met his as she collapsed against him, pressing his shirt to her mouth to muffle her sobs.
* * *
HE COULDN’T BREATHE. His chest was wet with her tears, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. He stared at the concrete bunker wall, trying to think of the right thing to do. With Pearl, Banshee and Scarlett watching. Holding her seemed right.
“Ta-dee?” Pearl’s voice was soft.
“I’ve got Tandy, Pearl,” he said, smiling down at his daughter.
Pearl smiled, patting his hip. “Da da.” She toddled back to Scarlett.
“That’s right, Daddy’s taking care of Tandy,” Scarlett said, gathering his daughter into her lap. “Let’s read a book. A doggie book?”
Pearl nodded.
Thankfulness washed over him. For Pearl and Tandy, Scarlett and Lynnie—even Banshee. Times like this made him realize how much he had to be thankful for. Tandy had been as good as her word. She and Scarlett had alternated shifts, showing up whenever they could. Making dinner, bathing Pearl or cleaning up so he could get some work done on the property. Scarlett always talked his ear off, but Tandy was only interested in conversing with Pearl. He gave her space, coming inside long enough to hear Tandy sing his daughter to sleep. Something about her lullabies eased the ache inside him. For a while. Bottom line, if he’d been alone with Pearl today, if Scarlett hadn’t been on hand to take care of his daughter, Tandy would be outside right now.
His heart thundered in his chest, overcome by what could have happened...
But hadn’t. She was here, in his arms, a little battered but here. His hands
slid up her back to cradle her close. She shivered and burrowed closer, her breath fanning across his chest. If she hadn’t been bleeding, he’d have stayed this way. As it was, she needed tending to.
“Tandy,” he murmured. “Your head.”
She pressed the shirt against his hand, then slid her arms around his waist.
“That works,” he whispered in her ear. He smoothed her hair aside, wincing at the gash in the back of her head. She’d need stitches all right, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about that now. He placed his shirt over her wound and pressed.
She pressed her face into his chest, but he heard her soft cry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not wanting to hurt her. He was no doctor, but applying pressure to the wound was the only hope they had to slow or stop the bleeding for now. Still, he tried to be careful.
“It’s okay,” she murmured back. “Thank you.”
She didn’t need to thank him. Everything he’d done, he’d done for himself. She was essential to him. The world outside shook, flattening homes and threatening livelihoods. But Click wasn’t worried. He’d found his purpose. It was right here, with Pearl and Tandy. They were safe and protected, so he was happy. Life was truly that simple.
Tandy sniffed, her breath escaping on a long shudder. The gash on her head probably hurt like hell. He ran his hand up and down her back, offering her the only comfort he had. Her fingers pressed into his back, gripping him tightly, holding him in place. Not like he was going anywhere.
He’d known a tornado was coming since this morning. There was a stillness outside, as if all the air had been sucked up for use later. Scarlett had shown up after breakfast, giving Click the chance to check the storm cellar. As always, Lynnie was prepared. Tornado or no, he had no reason to worry.
Until he saw Banshee. The dog had barked and barked, grabbing his shirt and tugging him toward the fence line. He’d closed Scarlett and Pearl inside the storm cellar with Banshee, then run. Tandy was in trouble.
His arms tightened around her now, assuring him she was safe. He sucked in a deep breath and shifted, sitting on the bench and cradling her against his chest. He kept the shirt tucked tight behind her head, making sure her injury was covered. This way he could see her. And, dammit, he wanted to see her.
Those hazel-green eyes of hers stared up at him. “You shouldn’t have come after me,” she whispered.
“No?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“No.”
He grinned. She knew, she had to know. “No choice, Tandy. When it comes to you, I’ve never had one.”
Those eyes fluttered, surprised. As if his revelation was new information. How could she have doubted that? No matter what had happened, what might happen, he’d love her till the day he died. And he was fine with it. Hell, more than fine with it. Being with her was the only time things felt right.
“Ta-dee?” Pearl asked, climbing down from Scarlett’s lap.
Tandy turned, wincing at the slight motion.
“Stop moving, woman.” Click sighed. “She’s okay, Pearl.”
“Some kisses might help,” Scarlett said. “Give her kisses, Pearl?”
Pearl smiled, standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Tandy’s cheek.
“Thank you, Pearl. I feel better already,” Tandy said, but she didn’t move.
“Da da.” Pearl pointed at Tandy. “Ki.”
“Ki? Kiss?” He swallowed.
Pearl nodded.
He cleared his throat. “You want me to kiss Tandy?”
Pearl nodded, waiting expectantly. How could he refuse?
“You see what you started?” Tandy said to Scarlett, making him chuckle.
“Da da,” Pearl repeated.
He heard Tandy’s breath waver as he bent close. No way to rush these things. His nose trailed along her temple, drawing her scent in. He loved the way she smelled, loved the warm softness of her skin, and the taste of her lips. Nothing compared to Tandy in his arms. He dreamed about it still. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, keeping in mind their very watchful audience.
Pearl clapped, her giggle inspiring Banshee to cover his tiny daughter’s face with slobbery kisses.
“Good boy,” he said, meaning it. Damn dog was a hero in his book. If he hadn’t barked, Tandy would have been stuck out there. His arms tightened, holding her closer to ease the sharp twisting of his heart.
Scarlett cleared her throat. “I’m feeling like a third wheel here,” she said.
He frowned. “There’re five of us in here.”
She shook her head. “Fine, be obtuse. I just don’t get you two. So... How’s work, Tandy?”
Tandy sighed, her eyes shut. “Okay.”
“You’re not supposed to sleep,” he said, a hint of warning in his voice.
Her eyes popped open. “Who’s sleeping?” she asked, the look in her eyes taking him by surprise.
He wasn’t the only one grappling with the effect they had on each other. The flare of hunger in her gaze sent a jolt straight to his spine. Every nerve jumped and hummed to life.
“You decide what you’re going to do yet, Click?” Scarlett asked.
News of his inheritance had only just gone public. In that time, neither Wallace nor Boone had reached out to him. Probably waiting to see who made the first move. “Still working on it. But good call, sending me to the tourism department. Best way to find the local businesses if you’re an outsider like me. Mr. Delgado’s men know their stuff. Had the fences fixed in no time. And the barn is almost ready for horses—if any were to come visit.” It was what he wanted, deep down he knew it was. Having a home and the business he’d always dreamed of? For Click, it was too good to be true.
“And will there be visitors?” Tandy asked. Was it his imagination or did she sound excited? “A training facility for cutting horses, here? Lynnie’s place is big enough, isn’t it?”
He nodded. It was—and then some. “Do I want to raise Pearl here? Surrounded by folks that might never accept her?”
Tandy frowned up at him. “So they win? What about you?”
“I won’t make out so bad if I sell.” He chuckled. Still the idea sat wrong. How could he sell? How could he lose the only tie he had to the woman he’d loved and admired. “I keep waiting. Things like this don’t happen for people like me.” He hadn’t meant to say that last bit out loud.
“People like you?” Tandy asked. “Hardworking? Responsible?”
“Loyal and kind,” Scarlett added. “I wish you could see you the way we do, Click. I know your upbringing was rough. But you aren’t.”
Tandy pressed a hand to his chest. “Listen to her,” she murmured. Her gaze was fixed on her hand. Was it the out-of-control pounding of his heart that held her fascination? Or something else?
“I think you should stay,” Scarlett spoke up. “Is...is Pearl’s mom not coming back?” She glanced at Pearl, sitting on the floor beside Banshee and flipping through her board books.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
“You have someplace to go? Work that’s waiting on you?” Scarlett asked. “If not, think on it a while. You’ll figure out what’s best for you and Pearl.”
He nodded, his attention wandering back to the woman in his arms. Tandy looked pale, too pale. He nodded at Scarlett. “Check the radio. See if it’s safe to get Tandy to a hospital.”
Scarlett hopped up, turning on the old weather radio. It was some time before they announced the all clear. Once they did, he helped Tandy sit on the bench and peeked through the storm cellar doors. Nothing out of the ordinary. He cracked the door then pushed it wide, climbing up and out of the cellar to take stock of the damage.
The grass was flattened, an odd swirling pattern cutting across part of his property. The fence between him and Tandy’s cabin was curled back into a tangled knot of cedar posts
and barbed wire. Beyond that was what remained of Tandy’s cabin.
His heart sank. Her truck had smashed through the back, bringing the structure down on top of it.
If Banshee hadn’t come to him, she’d be dead. The blood seemed to drain from him, leaving him numb. As far as Click was concerned, Banshee had earned a T-bone steak for the rest of the week. Hell, the month.
Lynnie’s home—his home—was still standing. One window was broken, but there were no other visible signs of damage. The barn, too.
“You were lucky,” Scarlett said, peering out. “I should check in with the family, so they know I’m okay. I can keep Pearl,” she added. “That way you can take Tandy in to get her head patched up.”
Ten minutes later, Pearl and Scarlett were headed to Fire Gorge and he was driving Tandy and Banshee into town. As they drove the debris-covered road into Fort Kyle, he gazed out the windows, looking for damage or anyone needing help. Considering how vast the Wallace and Boone properties were, there weren’t many homesteads to worry over.
He kept asking Tandy questions, hoping to keep her focused. In the big picture, a concussion wasn’t a big deal. He’d had a couple in his lifetime. But the headaches were no fun. And, if he remembered it correctly, there was a general fog of disorientation and dizziness.
He glanced at her, wanting to take her hand and comfort her—and himself.
She looked his way, her big eyes studying his face. Her smile was unexpected, and beautiful. He smiled back, shaking his head.
“What?” she asked.
“Been a long time since you smiled at me like that.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat.
“Must be the concussion,” she said, giggling.
He chuckled, too, turning onto Main Street and navigating the short distance to the hospital. It was surprisingly quiet. But then, the locals knew how to handle a tornado. He signed Tandy in and followed her gurney back. No way he was going to sit in that damn waiting room. He’d left her once when she needed him. He wasn’t about to do it again.
Chapter Eleven
Tandy was tired of resting. For two days, Scarlett had hovered. If Scarlett wasn’t, then Renata was calling her on the phone. Aunt Evelyn was relentless... Tandy had pretended to sleep twice just to avoid her. She meant well, but Tandy couldn’t shake the feeling she was being interrogated. About who and what, she wasn’t sure. But her aunt was looking for something. Hell, even Toben had called and texted. She appreciated their concern, but she truly was fine.
Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones 0f Texas Book 6) Page 12