There was no way she could estimate how close the twister was to them, but one glance revealed it was moving quickly, growing larger and gathering strength as the sound of the wind matched that of a runaway freight train.
She stumbled, nearly pitching forward, and would’ve fallen if Tyler hadn’t tightened his grip on her hand. He pulled her along, shouting at her, but the words were snatched from his lips as the tornado moved in their direction.
The wind ripped the elastic band from her hair, whipping the strands around her face and into her eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed the lightning had stopped after ten minutes? Why hadn’t she been more vigilant? She had spent the past two thirds of her life in upstate New York where twisters were rare occurrences. But in throughout the Midwest and South, tornadoes were not only common but also very probable.
We’re not going to make it! We’re going to die! The ominous prediction echoed in her head over and over as the buffeting wind ripped at her clothes and assaulted her body. Massive branches of ageless trees dipped and swayed like tender saplings, leaves were stripped from trees and brushes, and petals from flowers danced wildly in the air like pieces of colorful confetti. Dana felt her lungs burning as she forced her legs to move faster, refusing to believe she’d returned to Hillsboro to die. The faster she ran, the more her confidence spiraled. As long as her legs were moving she knew she was still alive. They had to make it back to the house and shelter.
Tyler picked Dana up with one arm as if she were a child, not breaking his stride. He was breathing heavily when he came to a stop, halfway between the house and garden, bent over, and pulled on a large iron ring attached to a slab of concrete. It took two attempts before he was finally able to lift the door to what he’d discovered before was a tunnel.
The sky was nearly black, but not black enough to obscure the frightening sight of the tremendous funnel coming dangerously close to the ground. They had to get underground before the tornado touched down, sweeping up everything in its deadly path.
“Get in!” he shouted close to Dana’s ear, doubting whether she could hear him over the roar of the wind.
Dana saw Tyler’s mouth move, but no words came out. The wind had snatched them from his tongue. Gritting his teeth tightly, he threw her over one shoulder, holding her legs tightly as he stepped back into the hole. His foot slipped, and he quickly regained his balance as he moved down a crude wooden ladder. The last rung broke under his and Dana’s weight. Setting her on her feet, he climbed up the ladder, reached up using both hands, and pulled down on an inner iron ring, closing the slab of concrete. Within seconds he’d shut out the fury of nature raging out of control.
Complete darkness descended on Dana, and she began shaking uncontrollably, reaching out for Tyler. Even though she was out of danger from the storm, she couldn’t stop trembling.
“Tyler.” His name was a muted whisper. “Tyler!” she screamed over and over, her voice bouncing off the earthen walls held back by wide planks of wood.
Tyler moved toward the sound of her voice, touching her shoulder and pulling her against his chest. “It’s all right, darling. You’re safe, sweetheart,” he crooned in her ear.
Dana buried her face against his shoulder, biting down hard enough on her lower lip to draw blood. She felt the blackness closing in, suffocating her. She was dying, buried alive.
Tyler grimaced against the stabbing pain in his chest. Dana’s fingernails dug into his flesh as she tightened rather than loosened her grip on his shirt. Gripping her hand, he forcibly wrested it from his shirt. He needed to get to a lantern he’d left in the shaft after he’d discovered its existence.
“No, Dana,” he whispered harshly. “Please let me go, baby. I have to get a light.”
“Tyler,” she sobbed, “please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”
Her shaking increased as tears stained her cheeks. As long as he held her she knew she would be safe. Rising on her toes, she pressed her open mouth to his, devouring it. She felt his heat, tasted the texture of his tongue.
Tyler reacted violently to Dana’s assault on his body and his senses, knowing she was close to becoming hysterical. “No, Dana,” he mumbled against her marauding mouth. She was kissing him, and the flesh between his legs hardened quickly, refusing to follow the dictates of his brain.
And what did she mean about not wanting to be alone? He wasn’t going anywhere. All he wanted to do was search the underground tunnel for the lantern.
Tightening his grip on her shoulders, he shook her. “Stop it, Dana. I’m not going to leave you. But I have to let go of you to find a light.”
“No-ooo.” The single word came out in a lingering sigh.
“Ouch!” he gasped audibly. Her fingernails bit into his back through the delicate fabric of his shirt.
Tyler knew he had to free himself from Dana’s punishing grip before her sharp nails gouged his flesh. Tempering his superior strength, he forcibly pulled her arms down, holding her against his side in a punishing grip. He pulled her along with him as he took tentative steps near what he thought was the entrance to the tunnel, while Dana fought him like an enraged cat.
He found what he’d been searching along a wall, picked it up, and pressed a switch with one hand. A beam of light lit up their darkened sanctuary. His heart nearly stopped when he looked at Dana’s grief-stricken expression.
Her eyes closed, her bloodied lower lip trembling, tears coursed down her cheeks. Bending slightly, he placed the lantern on the dirt-packed ground, and then swept Dana up in his arms. Holding her to his chest as if she were a child, he rocked her gently.
“Cry, baby,” he crooned softly. “Let it all out.”
Dana heard the soothing male voice, a voice that sounded like her father’s, and she did cry. She cried for the years she’d spent exiled from her home; cried for the loss of her mother and all she should’ve shared with her: the onset of her menses, the strange emotions she felt whenever she saw a boy she liked, the loss of her virginity, and the mother-daughter talks that would never be. She shed tears because the first man she’d loved had betrayed her with a single act of cowardice when he’d elected to take his own life rather than fight for it. She sobbed because her dream of becoming a nurse to assist Dr. Harry Nichols in his practice had vanished once a Greenville jury rendered a guilty verdict in Mississippi v. Nichols for murder and arson.
Sitting down on the floor next to the lantern, Tyler held and rocked Dana until her sobs subsided and were replaced by dry heaves. He pressed a kiss to her mussed hair, inhaling the flower-scented fragrance clinging to the heavy strands. His lips continued to explore her hair, moving down to her ear, and still lower to the column of her velvety neck.
He was totally unaware that his attempt to comfort her had become an overture to seduction. Dana’s arms tightened around his neck and she turned her face, tentatively pressing her mouth to his. The caress of her lips on his mouth enflamed his body as he returned the kiss, his tongue probing gently until she parted her lips and permitted him complete access to the honeyed sweetness she’d guarded jealousy for many years.
The storm, which raged outside, slipped between the slight opening around the concrete, igniting a hunger neither Dana or Tyler knew they were experiencing.
Easing her backward and cradling her head on his arm, Tyler moved over her body. The fingers of one hand feathered over her cheek as he drank deeply from her moist mouth.
His kiss was healing, comforting, bringing heat where there was cold. It signaled a beginning for Dana, a beginning where she had to confront her past in order for her to face her future—regardless of her investigation’s outcome. She had to learn to trust—to trust and to love all over again—for the second time in her life. The first time had been as a child when she’d loved and trusted her parents unconditionally; however, all that had changed with three bullets. Three gunshots fired at point-blank range and twenty-two years of exile.
Now, she wanted to live and breathe freely, without the unbidden memor
ies that continued to haunt her; wanted to love and trust, and plan for a future that included a husband and children; and she wanted to give into the gentle yearning and fall in love with Tyler Cole. Why him, she didn’t know. Why him, she no longer cared.
“Love me,” she whispered against his warm throat.
Tyler went completely still, cradling her face between his hands. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
“Yes. I know exactly what I’m saying. I want you to make love to me.”
“Here? Now?”
“Yes.” The single word was firm, resolute.
“I want to make love to you, Dana” he confessed softly. “I wanted to make love to you the first time I saw you, but …” His words trailed off.
Dana felt her face burn with shame. She’d begged him to make love to her—assumed he wanted to make love to her. Pushing against his chest, she attempted to free herself.
“Please, let me up.”
“No, Dana. Hear me out. I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman I’ve met or known. However, I will not become someone to warm your bed because your hormones are running amuck. I won’t sleep with you, and then stand by and watch you walk away from me in four months. That’s not who I am. I need you to tell me now if I’m going to become a part of your life.”
Dana’s mind floundered. She’d stripped herself bare, begging a man to make love to her, and he’d refused her offer. Vertical lines appeared between her eyes. “What are you asking, Tyler?”
“Total commitment.” He’d uttered the words he’d never said to any woman—words he’d never said aloud. They were out, he couldn’t retract them, and he felt free, freer than he’d ever been in his life.
Dana’s breath caught in her throat, not permitting her to speak as she forced her confused emotions into a semblance of prudence. She managed a nervous laugh. “Are you talking about marriage?” He nodded. “Why? I don’t know you, and you don’t know me,” she continued, her words falling over themselves as they spilled from her lips.
Lowering his head, Tyler pressed a tender kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”
She shook her head. “No. I … I don’t know. I’ve never actually been in love.” And she hadn’t—not with Galvin or with any other man.
He chuckled softly. “Neither have I.”
“Why me, Tyler?”
There was a noticeable pause as the sound of their breathing was heard over the staccato tapping of rain and hail on the concrete slab above their heads. Water seeped around the edges of the stone, forming pools on the dirt floor.
“I don’t know, Dana.” Tyler’s voice resonated a somber timbre. “One thing I know is it’s not because of your looks. It’s true what you said about us not knowing each other. But I do know what I feel. What I feel for you is real, as real as the storm that forced us to seek shelter in this tunnel.” He kissed her again. “Give me time to prove to you that my intentions are honorable.”
Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “I didn’t come back to Hillsboro to fall in love.”
He smiled at her in the dim light. “Are you falling in love with someone?”
“Maybe,” she said teasingly. One thing she was certain of was her desire for him. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man.”
“We will make love, Dana, but only when the time is right and when I can protect you. I don’t plan to become a baby’s daddy. I want to be a husband and a father. Preferably in that order.”
She managed a sad smile, her gaze awash with golden lights. “You have everything figured out, don’t you?”
“I’d be a sorry something if at forty-one I didn’t know what I wanted.”
Dana closed her eyes. “I also have a plan, Tyler.”
“Include me in your plan,” he whispered passionately.
“I …”
His kiss stopped her mild protest. “Will you include me, darling?” He placed small nibbling kisses around her mouth, frustrating her.
She wanted him to stop teasing her and kiss her with passion—a passion she knew would be all-encompassing. “Yes,” she breathed out into his mouth as it moved over hers.
There was promise and resignation in the single word. Wrapping her arms around Tyler’s neck, she went pliant, giving into the desire that simmered just below the surface.
The man cradling her to his heart was offering her a second chance to love and to trust, and she was going to accept it as willingly as she accepted his healing kisses.
He reversed their positions, her legs sandwiched in between his. They lay together on the dirt floor, unaware that their ancestors had done the same centuries before while they awaited freedom.
Closing her eyes, Dana rested her head on Tyler’s broad shoulder. You’re home, a voice whispered to her. Home wasn’t Hillsboro, Mississippi.
It was Tyler Cole.
Twelve
Dana and Tyler became aware of the silence and stillness simultaneously. She scrambled off his body, coming to her feet.
“It’s gone.” Her dulcet voice was calm, thankful.
Tyler stood up and walked over to the wooden ladder. “I’m going up to take a look.”
Inhaling deeply, he mentally prepared himself for the worst, expecting property damage; what he was not prepared for was the loss of human life. As soon as he lifted the concrete slab he heard the sirens. They were a long way off, but they still could be heard in Hillsboro. It was apparent the tornado had touched down—where was the question.
Hands splayed on his hips, he surveyed his property, whispering a silent prayer of thanks. Except for a few downed tree limbs, everything was still intact. He’d been spared.
He returned to the tunnel, holding the lantern aloft while Dana climbed the ladder. Waiting until she reached the top, he turned off the lantern, left it near the entrance, and then retraced his steps, placing the covering over the opening.
Dana stared up at the heavens. The rain had stopped, the sky had brightened, and watery rays of sunlight peeked through fluffy white clouds. Large hailstones were melting quickly in the suffocating heat. The sound of the wailing sirens chilled her, and she curbed the urge to place her hands over her ears as she’d done as a child.
The compact cellular phone clipped to Tyler’s waist rang. Vertical lines furrowed his forehead when he stared at the display. It was the county hospital. Depressing the TALK button, he said, “Dr. Cole.”
He listened to the authoritative voice coming through the tiny earpiece telling him the twister had hit Calico, and the governor had declared a county-wide emergency. Civilians were not permitted on any county roads, a six P.M. curfew was in effect, and all medical personnel were ordered to report to Calico to assist the injured. It was nearly five-thirty, and the curfew was scheduled to go into effect within half an hour.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He ended the call, and then turned to Dana, taking her hand. “I have to go to Calico. But first I’m going to shower and change my clothes.” Taking long, determined strides, he headed toward the house, pulling her along with him. “I want you to stay here until I get back.”
Dana quickened her pace to keep up with him. She was practically running. “Can’t you drop me off home? I need to wash and change my clothes.”
“No. There’s a county emergency, which means civilians aren’t allowed on the roads. Besides, there’s also a six o’clock curfew.”
“But I’m going to stay indoors.”
“I’m not willing to risk you getting arrested, Dana. Give me the keys to your place, and if I can I’ll pick up something for you.” There was a thread of steel in his voice she’d never heard before.
Waiting for him to unlock the front door to his house, she stared at his profile. His mouth was set in a tight grim line, while a muscle quivered in his lean jaw. She’d challenged Tyler before, speaking her mind, but something told her this was not the time to engage in a verbal confrontation. The teleph
one call had transformed him so that he’d become a complete stranger. Within seconds Tyler had disappeared, Dr. Cole taking his place.
Tyler unlocked the door, resetting the code on the alarm system on a panel in the entryway, handing Dana his keys. “I’m going to leave these with you in case you get cabin fever. However, I’ll need your keys.”
She stared up at his grim expression. “They’re in my purse. I left it in your truck.”
“I’ll get it before I leave.”
“What time do you expect to come back?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, pulling the hem of his shirt from the waistband to his slacks. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I have to change.”
Dana nodded numbly, watching him mount the curving staircase. Her shoulders slumped as she stared down at the smudges and stains on her shoes and dress. She’d wait for Tyler to leave, then shower and wash her clothes.
Tyler forced himself to remain upright. It was past midnight, and he’d been on his feet for more than six hours, refusing to acknowledge fatigue. The F3-category tornado had touched down on Calico, leveling most of the town. The only building left intact had been the bottling factory.
The county hospital’s emergency room resembled a MASH unit. The injured lay on beds, stretchers, and gurneys; the numbers swelled until they filled every room and corridor in the three-story medical facility. After running of out space inside the hospital, they laid patients on makeshift cots on the lawn, where powerful flood lamps and a generator had been rigged up to provide light for the hospital staff to treat the injured. Tyler had been assigned to triage, along with a cardiologist and an internist. He’d diagnosed broken arms, legs, concussions, fractured skulls, jaws, and ruptured spleens and kidneys.
An area behind the parking lot had been set aside as a morgue for those who hadn’t survived the deadly storm. Many had been found trapped under fallen debris, others in vehicles that had been hurled hundreds of feet from their original location.
Tyler had forced himself not to glance at the sheet-covered corpses. Despite the antiseptic smell wafting in the warm night air, the odor of death prevailed.
Homecoming Page 14