Something told him that this was a moment, one of those moments. The ones that your kids remember forever. Where Dad was either a hero or a gigantic jerk. He really didn’t want to be remembered by his daughter as a gigantic jerk. Of course, he also wanted her to be alive to have memories.
He got on his knees in front of her, gripping her skinny arms. She felt so fragile in his big hands. “Listen, sweetheart. Whatever happens is going to happen, whether you are here or in the house. You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. I know you’re worried about Freckles and Tink and the twins, so I think before we go, we should pray.”
Tears were running down her face, mingling with her runny nose, but she nodded and sobbed, “Okay.”
He grabbed her close. “Dear God, Freckles and Peter and Wendy and Tink belong to you. We leave them in Your hands and trust You to take care of them. Help them not to be scared. Keep us all safe. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
Tipping her chin up, he said, “Ready now?”
She shook her head and grabbed his hand. “Just one more thing.”
Joe sighed as she pulled him to the back of the barn. In the stall, the kittens were huddled in a bunch with Mama Kitty nowhere to be seen.
“Please, Dad?”
He didn’t have time to argue. He nodded, falling to his knees and picking up the little babies. “Okay, let’s go.”
In the distance, the storm roared. They were out of time.
He grabbed his daughter’s hand and ran.
Trees bowed in the wind, the storm rushing around them, bearing down on them.
“Dad!” Terror laced Amelia’s voice. At the stairs, she tripped. He lifted her to her feet, slid his arm around her waist and tossed her to the top landing. “Go to the stairs!”
She ran through the open door, skidding on the wet kitchen floor into the hall. Claire scrambled into the hall, grabbed Amelia and pulled her into the storage area. He slid into the hall behind her, dived into the small space and pulled the door closed behind him.
Tears tracked down Claire’s face, wet hair in ropes down her back. “I was so scared. I can’t believe y’all made it in here.” She held Amelia close, the light from her flashlight tracking wildly on the ceiling.
The old house shook and Amelia backed farther into the crescent of Claire’s arm. “I’ve never seen weather like this.”
Joe met Claire’s worried eyes, before he smiled at his daughter. “I have. Our unit stayed during some of the hurricanes that hit northwest Florida. Don’t worry, bug. This is the safest spot in the house.”
At his words, the old house seemed to shift and expand around them. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and texted his mom, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t go through.
“We’re going to be fine.” Claire rubbed a hand down Amelia’s hair. She tilted her head, listening. “Wait. What’s that noise?”
“Not the storm?” Joe asked, then laughed, relaxing just a little. He had a feeling he knew what she was asking about. He unbuttoned his shirt and, one by one, the kittens popped their heads out.
Claire burst out laughing and Amelia giggled, her eyes the exact mirror image of his own, shining.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded. “Mama Kitty wasn’t around. Someone had to take control of the situation.”
One little tuxedo kitten tentatively picked his way across Joe’s leg to curl up in Claire’s lap. The roar of the winds had calmed outside, and tucked in their “shelter,” they couldn’t hear much at all anymore.
Claire scratched the little kitten’s head. He could see the worry in her eyes. And he realized she worried for good reason. Her brand-new kitchen now held a few inches of rainwater and debris. They had no idea what was left of the rest of the farm or their town, for that matter. He prayed everyone was safe.
Overwhelming thanksgiving swamped him—that he, Amelia and Claire survived what had to be a tornado. Not knowing what might face them outside, a part of him wanted to stay cocooned in this tiny alcove for a long time. Instead, they would have to leave and take stock of the damage.
The faint sound of a siren reached them in their hidey-hole. The local first responders were riding the rural highways letting people know it was safe to come out. He picked up the kitten nearest him. “I’m going to take a look.”
Amelia scrambled to her feet. “I’m going, too.”
“Me, too.” Claire passed one of the kittens to Amelia and picked the other two up from the floor. “I’m scared.”
They walked down the hall to the kitchen, or what was left of it. Leaves floated on the rain-soaked floor. Half a tree was stuck in the kitchen window, dropping pine needles. Shards of glass sparkled everywhere. Amelia reached for Claire’s hand.
Claire nodded. “Okay, we know there’s going to be work here. Let’s keep going. We need to check on the animals.”
The back door hung slightly open, even though Joe knew he had closed it. They stepped onto the porch and stood there, taking in the carnage. Small branches and leaves were scattered everywhere. On the highway, a power line sizzled and popped. Miraculously, the barn and their cabin still stood, although Joe could see that there were shingles missing from both structures.
A high-pitched whinny came from the barn. Claire ran for the barn and pulled the door open. “Freckles!”
“Is he okay?”
Claire rubbed her horse’s neck. “I think he’s fine. A little spooked.”
“Tink?” Amelia ran to the last stall and peeked over the door. “They’re all here.” Her voice was thick with tears. “I was really worried about you guys.”
He put his arm around Claire’s shoulders, knowing how relieved she was but also how devastating this had to be for her. She had sunk every penny she had into this place and had already been worried about her finances and the timetable. She looked up at him. “We need to go check on everyone in town. I don’t think the storm touched down here, but it might have in town.”
Joe nodded. “I need to check on my mom and Jules.”
“What about Mama Kitty?”
Claire drew Amelia into their small circle. “If she ran because she was scared, she’s probably still hiding. We’ll keep the kittens safe until she comes back.”
He shifted the kitten he held to his other arm and dug his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door to his old truck.
“Oh, Joe, your truck.” Claire’s voice was dismayed.
It had a new dent in the roof from a limb, but he shrugged it off. “Just a scratch. It adds character.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” his daughter muttered under her breath, but Joe made a face at her anyway.
“It’s going to be a few days before the power is back on, especially if that system keeps moving east. I need to check on Mom and Jules while there’s still daylight.”
Amelia crawled into the backseat and pulled a small box from the floorboard. She shimmied out of her sweatshirt and arranged it into a makeshift bed for the kittens, collecting the ones that Joe and Claire were holding.
Claire opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. He looked at her, surprised. Her face pale but resolute, she sighed. “Nothing here is that urgent. It will all still be here tomorrow. Let’s go check on everyone else. There may be someone who needs help.”
It had been a crazy, terrifying, unbelievable day, but together they had survived. He could only pray that the town had fared as well.
Chapter Twelve
Trees snapped. Lines down. Debris scattered. Water standing. Everywhere Claire looked, she saw evidence of the storm’s destruction. She closed her eyes, not knowing even what to say, just thanking God that they were safe. Her kitchen might be a shambles, but she and Joe and Amelia had not a scratch, and for a little while there, she hadn’t been sure that would be the case.
Bertie descended on them before the bell on the door even stopped jingling. She grabbed Amelia’s face in her hands. “Thank God you’re okay. Was it bad out at the farm?”
“Not too bad.” Claire was swept into Bertie’s capable arms.
In his turn, Joe hugged his mom. “A tree branch came right in the kitchen window.”
“Oh, Claire. Your beautiful new kitchen.” Bertie’s eyes filled with tears.
Claire shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t let herself think about it, or she would lose it. “It’s just a kitchen. It’s fine.”
It was just a room, just stuff, but even as the thought passed her lips, she felt sick to her stomach. It represented so much work. So much money. It could be repaired, but her resources weren’t limitless.
She shook off the thoughts. Joe and Amelia were safe. She was safe. People mattered most. “I’m just so thankful you’re safe. Have you heard from Jules?”
“She’s fine and the bakery is fine. I sent her home to check on the animals, but she should be back soon.” Bertie poured a cup of coffee into the nearest waiting cup. “If you want to help, Joe, get into the kitchen and make some more coffee. We’re going old-school without any power and using the gas stove.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m glad you’re okay. Amelia?”
“I’ll watch her,” Claire interjected, before turning to Bertie. “Has everyone been accounted for in town?”
“That’s a good question. I heard the bottom floor of the county hospital is flooded and the volunteer fire department was called in to help evacuate. Cops, too.” Bertie talked as she walked, with Claire trailing behind her picking up empty cups and trash from the tables.
If all of the first responders were needed at the hospital, Claire wondered if there were people out there, like shut-ins, maybe, who needed help.
Joe came in from the kitchen door with a full pot of coffee. “Do you know if anyone checked on Mr. Haney?”
“I was just wondering the same thing.” Claire nudged Amelia out of the way of the hot coffee.
Joe turned and let out a shrill whistle, quieting the room.
His deep voice carried throughout the diner without him even having to try. “Hey, anyone go down Haney Road to get here?”
There was a lot of muttering and looking around, but no one had been down the road where Harvey Haney lived. Claire put her hand on Joe’s arm. “I think we should go check on him. If there’s anyone else who is elderly or a shut-in, we can check on them, too.”
“Amelia can stay here with me. I’ll put her to work.” Bertie looked around at the crowd of people. “I guess after that kind of storm everyone just wants a little bit of normal.”
Joe pulled out his keys. “Thanks, Mom. If you think of anyone else who might need help, you can try to call me. Otherwise, we’ll swing back by here when we leave Haney’s place.”
They drove down the highway taking the turn just before Claire’s farm that led to Mr. Haney’s cattle farm. The damage looked about the same as everywhere else, at least to Claire. “Maybe his phone is just out.”
Joe swerved around a limb in the road. “Maybe. I’m worried about him, though. That storm blew up so fast, and if he was out in it, he could be hurt.”
Claire looked out the window at the woods flashing by. The trees dripped water, some of their limbs bowed by the storm’s lashing winds. She felt like the tree, a little battered, a little shell-shocked and storm-worn. Surely, soon things would start to fall into place and she would get her equilibrium again.
Claire gasped as a quarter of a mile out from Haney’s house, the gently bowing trees turned into a scene of full-fledged destruction. The whole area looked like it had been bulldozed. The woodsy area had been decimated, leaving toothpick-like twigs, sticking up like a diorama forest.
As they rounded the curve nearest to the house, a black-and-white Holstein cow stood in the middle of the road. Joe slammed on the brakes, his arm shooting out to brace her.
The cow turned her head to look at them, then slowly ambled off the road.
“We’ll come back for her. Let’s go check on Mr. Haney first.” Joe pulled into the driveway at Mr. Haney’s ranch.
Claire swallowed hard. A tall pine tree had collapsed the roof of Mr. Haney’s house, right through the center, and the barn was just...gone.
Joe slammed the truck to a halt in the driveway. He jumped out, leaving the keys swinging in the ignition, as he yelled for the older man. “Mr. Haney? It’s Joe Sheehan. I helped you with the cows the other day, remember? Mr. Haney, are you here?”
“I’m going to see if I can find a way in.”
His eyes were covered with his sunglasses, but she could see the worry on his face. “Be careful. We have no way of knowing how stable the house is.”
Claire skirted the remains of the pine tree. The garage door looked like it had buckled from the damage to the house. If she could get in, though, there was a good chance that the inside door wouldn’t be locked.
The house was creepily quiet except for the occasional sound of the cows in the field. Claire stuck her head into the opening. “Mr. Haney?”
Nothing.
His car was in the garage. He used a golf cart these days to check on the cows, but she was pretty sure she could see the outline of it in the shadowy space. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d been home when the storm hit.
She was scared to go in, but there was no choice. Mr. Haney’s life could depend on it. She stuck one foot in through the opening, calling back to Joe. “I’m going to try to get in through the garage.”
“Let me go.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You won’t fit through here. I’ll call out if I see him.”
Ducking down, she squeezed through the awkward opening and stopped to give her eyes time to adjust to the dim light. She edged around the big Buick that filled this side of the garage and put her hand on the doorknob to the house. It turned under her hand and she pushed it open.
The timbers that held the house together shifted above her. She froze. If it started to cave in, she could be trapped here, too. Her heart raced, but she wouldn’t turn back, not until she searched what she could of the house.
She heard Joe calling from outside. “Claire!”
“I’m okay. I’m good.” She took one tentative step forward and called out again. “Mr. Haney? It’s Claire Conley. Remember me?”
The house settled again and she placed her hands on the wall, glancing at the ceiling as dust rained down. From beyond the kitchen, she heard a groan. Faint, but there.
She rushed forward, all thoughts of her own safety vanishing. Mr. Haney was in here and he needed their help.
* * *
Joe watched as Claire disappeared into the garage and fought a small war with himself about charging in after her, never mind that he wouldn’t fit through the narrow space the crumpled door opened up. He wanted to keep her safe, never let anyone or anything hurt her.
And he didn’t want to analyze that at all.
Instead, he thought about Mr. Haney as he walked around back to see if there was an easier way in. Mr. Haney had been the 4-H sponsor at the elementary school when Joe had attended. The now elderly man had known that Joe couldn’t have an animal to take care of, not when he didn’t even have food to eat himself. So Mr. Haney had invited Joe to come to the farm whenever he could and, though he’d never made a big deal out of it, he always seemed to have extra food when Joe came around.
A muffled shout came from inside the house. “He’s here! Joe, I found him!”
Joe raced onto the back porch. The glass had burst out of the back window when the tree fell, pine branches protruding out. “Claire?”
“In here. Mr. Haney’s breathing, but he’s not responding.”
Training kicked in, narrowing his focus to the next task he needed to accomplish in order to reach the desired outcome. He took off his flannel shirt and wrapped it around his hand and broke out what was left of the window framing so he could climb inside. Pushing through the remnants of the huge pine tree, he saw Claire, kneeling on the wet floor next to Harvey Haney’s still body, her hands pressed on a wound on the old man’s denim-clad thigh.
Joe pressed 911 on his phone, knowing if he did manage to get through that it might be a long time before anyone could reach them. As the operator picked up, he saw Mr. Haney stir. Thank God.
He asked the operator for an ambulance, gave her the address and dropped to his knees beside Claire. “Is he conscious?”
“He’s in and out. This cut on his thigh is the worst. It was still welling blood when I got in here. He’s got a cut on his forehead, too, and his legs are pinned under the tree. It looks like it fell right where he was sitting.”
“Keep pressure on that wound. I’ll look around. I’m sure he has a first-aid kit in here somewhere.”
“I just want him to be okay.” Her eyes were big and dark in the shadows of the damaged house. In them he saw the heart that drew everyone to her, the compassion that pushed her to do things other people only thought about.
Joe wanted to reach out to her, reassure her everything was going to be fine. But it wasn’t that simple. “I know. Me, too. We’re going to do everything we can. Let’s just try to keep him from moving around so he won’t do any more damage.”
He strode down the hall, the sagging ceiling dusting his hair with bits of plaster. The power was out from the storm, but they needed to cut the power off to the house before the situation became even more dangerous.
The Dad Next Door Page 12