by Rachel Hauck
"Like an old pair of worn boots, eh?" Belle said cynically. Hearing Burke admit he met other women was not a surprise, she'd suspected it all along, but nevertheless, the confession stung.
"I just wanted to postpone the wedding. I tried to tell you, but every time I looked into those beryl green eyes of yours, my heart overruled my mind. I loved you, Belle, but I wasn't ready for marriage."
"So, how'd you finally get the guts to run out just before the ceremony?"
He grimaced. "I'd pretty much talked myself into going through with it."
Belle narrowed her eyes at him. "How charitable of you."
"Hold on now, hear me out," he said, holding up his hands for peace. "I figured once we were married I'd feel the way I used to feel about marrying you and life would be good again. But when I took the time to seriously contemplate our wedding, the ceremony, the reception, and the honeymoon, I knew I had too much doubt to go through with it. As much as I thought I loved you and, for as long as we'd waited to be together, I couldn't enter into something so precious if it didn't mean the world to me. And, at that point in time, Belle, it didn't."
Tears were streaming down her face. "How is it you break my heart, humiliate me, and end up sounding noble with that excuse?"
"I'm sure I'm not noble, but that's my reason."
"Do you know what it's like to crawl into bed alone and broken on the night that was supposed to be your wedding night?"
"Yeah, Belle, I do," Burke said, leaning toward her, catching her eyes with his. "I checked into a cheap motel and cried myself to sleep that night. I needed to call my best friend, but I'd just broken her heart."
The image of him alone, hurting and confused, weighted with the burden of his actions touched her heart with tender compassion. Fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks. Yet, a small piece of her remained unwilling to let it all go so easily. She challenged him, ready for a fight. "So, you got a whole new life, and I got the shattered one you left behind."
"You seemed to have recovered nicely," he countered, slightly sarcastic.
Belle fumed and hopped off the pew, replying with vigor, a steady cadence in her words. "I had no choice."
He started to reply, but she'd had enough. The conversation had zapped her emotional strength. "Look, Burke, I gotta go," she said, brushing away tear stains with the back of her hand. She marched down the aisle and out the chapel door into the dark evening.
"Wait, Belle!" he called, charging down the aisle after her. But by the time he reached the chapel door, she'd yanked Trixie's reigns from the post and ridden away.
Chapter Ten
Thunder peeled in the distance as Burke stood on the steps and watched Belle ride away toward a dark, eerie horizon. He felt burdened by the rocky road their confrontation had taken.
Lightning slithered across the sky and a blast of wind from the northwest whistled through the tall grasses of the chapel's yard. At the hitching post, Tracer snorted and pranced nervously.
"I hear ya, old boy," he said, quickly dashing inside to gather Belle's guitar and saddlebag. He secured the chapel door and headed Tracer in the direction of the Bar J, hoping to make it before the clouds broke.
The Jamison barnyard appeared deserted when he finally rode in, head bent against the wind. An unlatched barn door slammed wildly against the side of the long, low building and the Bar J horses, Captain and Blue, whinnied from their stalls. Burke led Tracer to shelter, noticing that Trixie had not yet returned. Duke's horse Pepper was also gone.
Belle, where are you? Burke wondered, closing the barn door behind him as he surveyed the threatening sky. The howl in the wind and the dark swirling clouds made him uneasy.
"Twisters," he said and ran for the kitchen door.
***
"Daddy?" Belle's panic call echoed through the house. "Daddy, you here?"
"He's not here," a voice answered from the den. Burke came around the corner.
Belle brushed past him when she heard the weather on the TV. "What are you doing here?" she asked briskly, focusing on the weatherman's report.
"You left your guitar and saddlebag in the chapel. I brought them over. I thought maybe we could finish our conversation."
"Now?"
"No, tornado warnings are in effect for the entire county. The weatherman says if you ever wanted to experience an F5, tonight might be the night."
"Who in their right mind would want to experience an F5?" she snapped.
"You'd be surprised," he said with a raised brow, then asked, "Are you looking for your dad?"
"I can't find him," Belle said, snatching up the phone.
"Who you calling?"
"Jake," she answered, then spoke into the receiver. "Jake, where's Daddy?" As she listened, her face drained of all color. "Okay, thanks." She dropped the phone on the receiver and bolted for the door.
"Where you going?" Burke grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around to face him.
"Pepper's gone from the barn. I thought Daddy might be with Jake and Cole, but they left after dinner. I think Daddy's out in the southern range, alone."
Lightning flashed, cracking the ground beyond the kitchen door. The lights went out, flickered, and then slowly burned again.
"I'm going after him," she said, yanking her arm free of his hold and reaching for her truck keys that dangled from a hook by the door. In the barnyard, dust devils and loose branches swirled in the air.
The wail in the wind changed to the forceful sound of a locomotive.
"You're going to the cellar," Burke said, blocking her path.
In the distance a funnel cloud dropped from the heavens, twisting, whipping the ground. In the next instant, it disappeared into the clouds, and then slithered to the ground again.
"Burke, I'm going after Daddy. Now, move."
He refused. Instead, he barked commands over the screaming wind. "Get these dogs in the cellar. I'm going to let the horses loose."
"Hi-yah!" Burke hollered, slapping Tracer on the hindquarters. Trixie, Blue and Captain raced away with him. "Belle, the cellar. The cellar! Duke can take care of himself." His voice barely rose above the screaming wind.
Another fierce, twisting cloud touched down, and fear gripped Belle. With weak, trembling arms she tugged at the cellar door. But the rusty hinges resisted her. The dogs clamored at her feet, growling, their hackles raised in fear. "Burke!" she called.
He joined her at the cellar door, bracing himself against the driving wind. His corded arms grabbed the handle and pulled.
The door yielded and Belle stumbled down cracked cement steps into the cool darkness of the cellar, the dogs still barking and growling as they followed her.
She fumbled along the wall until she reached the storage shelf and the emergency flashlight. "I found a light," she said, shining the bright white glow at the door, her hands trembling and her voice weak, waiting for Burke to respond.
But he didn't answer.
"Burke? Burke," she screamed, imagining the twister touching down while Burke remained up top, exposed and unprotected.
Oh Lord, please.
To her relief, the door strained open and Burke dropped to the floor, the new Jamison puppy, Little General, tucked securely under his arm. "He needed rescuing," Burke said, catching his breath, and quickly latching the rattling doors closed.
Belle sank to the hard cellar floor and shined the light on his face. "You scared me," she said, feeling weak. "I thought you were coming in right behind me."
He jolted as something heavy hammered down on the cellar doors. "I saw the pup out of the corner of my eye, scared and frozen in place over by the side of the barn. I couldn't leave him."
The image of the puppy, terrified and alone in the storm, immediately drew her thoughts back to her father. Anxiety knotted her middle. "Daddy's out there," she whispered after a moment.
Burke settled on the floor next to her. "Maybe not, Belle," he said, stroking Little General's soft head. The puppy buried his nose under Burke's arm.<
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With determined, metered words, he began to pray. "Lord, You are our fortress. Keep us safe. Protect Duke. Protect my family. Let this storm pass right over us."
On instinct, Belle dropped her head to his shoulder and let the presence of her old friend, and the power of his prayer, comfort her. In her mind and heart, she prayed with him, pleading to the Lord for her father's safety.
Beside her, the dogs howled, their pitch sending a chill over her scalp and down her arms. "Hush now, fellows. You heard Burke. The Lord is watching out for us."
The terror lasted only a few minutes. The cellar door ceased to rattle and bulge. The wind no longer whined like the engine of a lone train. They waited in the dark for a few tense moments, listening.
Finally, Burke unlatched the door and stepped out of the cellar into a soft summer breeze.
"Hand me the flashlight," he said, the puppy squirming from his arms and jumping to the ground.
She slapped the light in his hand and found another one on the shelf for herself.
The dogs scurried up the steps, barking and yapping.
"Come on up."
"How bad is it?" She stumbled as she hit the first step, her legs shaky, her muscles feeling soft as putty.
He shined his light on her. "You okay?" he asked, extending his hand.
"I'm fine," she said, rubbing her knee, gaining control of her legs and stepping past him into the summer night. Stars twinkled down at her from the night sky and a light wind brushed through her hair. "I can't believe it," she whispered. "It's so calm and peaceful."
"Amazing, isn't it?"
She nodded, her eyes following the glow of the flashlight as she panned the grounds. Debris littered the yard and one of the large cottonwoods had been uprooted and smashed into the front porch. Miraculously, that was the only damage left in the storm's wake.
"We gotta find Daddy," Belle said, running for her truck.
Burke reached for her. "You can't drive your truck."
She followed the beam from his light. A few yards away, her classic '57 Chevy lay on its side, wheels spinning, going nowhere. "We can turn it over," she blurted out.
"That truck weighs a ton."
She faced him, shining her light in his face. "He's out there and I'm going to find him."
"Hold up, Belle. Take a minute to think. Where are you going to look? You don't know where he is. He could be in town, at a neighbors, or friends."
"Think? There's no time to think, Burke. Jake said he rode off on Pepper. My guess is that he's--"
Headlights flashed from the driveway, and a sheriff's truck pulled alongside them.
"Paul," Belle said, desperation in her voice as she peered in the driver's window. Gates' husband was a welcome sight. "Daddy's out there somewhere."
"Where?" Paul asked, the squawk of his radio detailing the disaster of the tornadoes.
Burke stepped up to the window. "We don't know."
"I think he's in the south pasture," she replied.
Paul tipped his head toward the doors. "Get in."
He took the four-wheel drive truck overland, his angular face stern, and his thick hands gripping the wheel. Desperate weather reports confirmed Belle's worst fears. An F3 tornado touched down north of the county and ripped its way south. The grazing land they'd planned to fence in lay right in its path. If Duke left the ranch after dinner to survey the fence line, he rode right into the storm's path.
She fretted as images of life without her loving, stable, wise father haunted her. If anything happened to him, how could she live with herself?
The truck tore over wet prairie grass, bouncing and crashing over knolls. The radio broadcasted one emergency call after another and declared that a third twister had ripped through the eastern part of the county. In the midst of all the radio noise, Burke's cell phone rang. Belle glanced at him, annoyed.
"The tornado missed the Circle B. The horses are over there," he explained briefly.
A moment of relief hit her, but it didn't last.
In the next few anxious moments, the truck's headlights caught the black coat of Duke's mare racing wildly across their path.
"Paul, there's Pepper."
"Careful," Burke warned with a low tone. "Don't spook the old girl. She's had a rough night."
Belle nudged Paul, telling him to cut the wheel hard left. "I know where she's going."
"The corral?" Burke asked.
"Yep."
Chapter Eleven
Duke lay face down in a swirl of mud and water. Belle stumbled from the truck and knelt next to him, panicked.
Paul and Burke hustled to her side. Burke rolled Duke over and rested his head on his legs.
Belle watched, unbelieving. "Oh Lord," she prayed with a sob, the reality of Duke's fate taking hold of her.
Burke performed CPR while Paul tried to radio for help. But the storm had rescue crews scattered all over the county, and it became apparent that Duke would have to be transported in Paul's vehicle.
Calmly, Burke commanded Belle. "Go to the truck, get my phone and call Dean. His house is not far from here, and he's an EMT."
"Good plan," Paul said.
She stumbled to the truck and dialed the number. "Dean," she said, tears in her words. "It's me, Belle. Paul Fuller, Burke, and I are in the south range by the big corral. It's Daddy, Dean." Weeping overcame her.
"I'm on my way, Belle. I'm on my way."
***
In the bathroom outside the hospital emergency room, Belle clung to the low, cool sink, trying to control her tears. Her stomach and sides ached from crying, and her throat burned with bile. She caught a glimpse of herself in the sink mirror. Mud smudged her face and stained her tee shirt. Her matted, wet hair clung to her head and her tired eyes were swollen and red.
A soft touch on her shoulder made her turn around. "Here's a cold towel." Elaine Benning's tender voice floated to her ears.
"Thank you," Belle said as reached for the cloth and buried her face in it.
Elaine smoothed Belle's hair with her hand. "The doctor said Duke's going to be fine. He's got a nasty knot on his head and a severely broken leg, but he's fine. He's fine."
"Thank you, Jesus," Belle prayed, sinking down to the hard tile floor, propping her back against the wall and succumbing to soft tears.
Elaine crouched next to her and drew her into her arms. "He's sleeping peacefully now. The doc says Burke saved his life, you know, by administering CPR."
Belle stiffened and her temper flared. "Saved him? Burke is the one who refused to let me go after him." She hopped to her feet. "I told him he was in the southern range. I told him to let me go after him."
Elaine stood and looked her in the eye. "Oh, now, you couldn't have gone after your dad in that storm."
"You didn't see him, Elaine, lying face down in the mud, alone and dying. My daddy…" The words faded into sobbing.
Elaine tried to reason with her, explaining that Burke possibly saved her life by forcing her into the cellar. Who would have saved Duke if she had gotten hurt in the storm?
But Mrs. Benning's wisdom made no impact on Belle. Her exposed, raw emotions were in control.
When a heavy silence fell between them, Elaine started to leave. As she reached for the door, Gates and Meg pushed it open and scrambled to embrace Belle.
***
"She what?" Burke nearly shouted, towering over his mother in the ER waiting room.
"She blames you," Elaine repeated, sympathy clouding her eyes.
He paced around his family, his lips pursed with anger. When he started to say something, Reese slapped a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Let's hear this out," he said. "Tell us what she said Elaine." Reese shot a warning glance toward his son. "No comments from you until she's done."
"Well, I gave her the doctor's report and - Oh, boys, you should have seen her." Her voice quivered and broke. "I tried to comfort her by telling her Duke was fine and sleeping peacefully. Then I said Burke probably sa
ved his life by performing CPR."
"Then what happened?" Burke demanded.
"Steady son, she's on your side."
"Dad, why are there sides at all?"
"Go on, Elaine."
"She snapped her head up like she'd been gored by a bull. She said if it hadn't been for Burke, she could have rescued Duke. She told you she could find him, I guess."
"But she didn't know for sure. The storm was right over us. Funnel clouds were touching down and speeding toward the Bar J." Burke's tone grew forceful and loud.
"Burke, keep your voice down," Reese warned.
"She'd doing this out of spite, I tell you."
Dean spoke for the first time. "She's tired, emotional, scared. You know how she feels about Duke. Give her time, Burke."
"This is ridiculous. I don't care how tired, scared, or emotional she is, how can she blame me? It's crazy."
"She's not thinking straight, Burke, can't you see?" Gates joined the small Benning circle.
Burke sank into one of the waiting room chairs. "We talked today for the first time about our wedding day," he began softly, detailing their chapel meeting and the events following just before the storm. "I thought we were getting somewhere," he concluded.
Gates sat next to him and placed a comforting hand on his humped shoulders. "You are, Burke, believe me. It's a miracle that you talked today, something to be thankful for. But right now, all she can think about is how she could've saved her father. Blaming you for not letting her go after him is the handiest thing she has at the moment for dealing with her own guilt."
Meg stepped up. "I agree. Belle takes her love and care for Duke very serious. Not to mention, he's the only family she has left."
"It makes no sense," Burke countered, standing to face the group. "Why should she feel guilty? She didn't cause this to happen." Sarcasm threaded his words.
"Settle down, Burke," Elaine said, tipping her head back to look her son in the eye. She may have been almost a foot shorter than her tall, athletic son, but her authority towered over him.