of her Disney princess shirt, revealing a tiny scrape. Somehow she’d come through the whole ordeal safely.
Once they reached the bottom of the rubble, Whit passed Evie to her mother. “Here ya go, kiddo.”
Evie melted against Megan with one of those shuddering sighs of relief that relayed more than tears how frightened she had been. Evie wrapped her tiny arms around Megan’s neck and held on tightly like a spider monkey, and it was Megan’s turn to feel the shudder of relief so strong she nearly fell to her knees.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, God. Her baby was safe.
“You’re okay, sweetie?”
“I’m fine, Mommy. The t’naydo came and I was a very brave girl. I did just what Miss Vicky told me to do. I sat under the stairs and hugged my knees tight with one arm and I held my friend Caitlyn’s hand ’cause she was scared.”
“You did well, Evie, I’m so proud of you.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead, taking in the hint of her daughter’s favorite raspberry shampoo. “I love you so much.”
“Love you, too, Mommy.” She squeezed hard, holding on tightly as Whit helped the other students through.
Once the last child stepped free, Whit urged everyone to file away from the damaged part of the building. He led them down the hall to where Sue Ellen had gathered the children in the auditorium, playing music and passing out cookies and books to the students whose parents hadn’t arrived to pick them up. The school nurse made the rounds checking each child, dispensing Band-Aids when needed.
Whit’s hand went to the small of Megan’s back again with an ease she didn’t have the energy to wonder about right now.
“Megan, you should see the nurse about your scratches from the accident. The air bag has left some burns that could use antiseptic too—”
She shook her head. “I will later. For now she’s got her hands full with the children and they need her more.”
Evie squirmed in her arms. “Can I get a cookie? I’m reallllly hungry.”
“Of course, sweetie.” She gave her daughter another hug, not sure when she would ever be okay with letting her out of her sight.
Evie raced across the gym floor as if the whole world hadn’t just been blown upside down. Literally.
Whit laughed softly. “Resilient little scrap.”
“More so than her mom, I’m afraid.” Megan sagged and sat down on the metal riser.
“All Evie knows is that everyone is okay and you’re here.” Whit sat beside her, his leg pressing a warm reassurance against hers. “Maybe we should get you one of those cookies and a cup of that juice.”
“I’m okay. Really. We should go back to clearing the debris outside.” She braced her shoulders. “I’m being selfish in keeping you all to myself.”
“All the children are accounted for and the teachers have them well in hand. It’s getting dark. I think cleanup will be on hold until the morning.”
What kind of carnage would the morning reveal? Outside, sirens had wailed for the last twenty minutes. “I should take Evie and check back in at the shelter. Local animal control will need our help with housing displaced pets.”
“Civilians aren’t allowed on the road just yet and you don’t have a car.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Face it, Megan. You can actually afford to take a few minutes to catch your breath.”
The concern in his brown eyes was genuine. The warmth she saw there washed over her like a jolt of pure java, stimulating her senses. Why hadn’t she ever noticed before what incredibly intense and expressive eyes he had? Sure, she’d noticed he was sexy, but then any woman who crossed his path would appreciate Whit Daltry’s charismatic good looks. And in fact, that had been a part of what turned her off for the past three years—how easily women fell into his arms. She’d let herself be conned by a man like that and it had turned her life upside down.
But the warmth in his eyes now, the caring he’d shown in helping her get to Evie today presented a new side to Whit she’d never seen before. He might not be romance material for her, but he’d been a good guy just now and that meant a lot to a woman who didn’t accept help easily.
She slumped back against the riser behind her. “Thank you for what you did for me today—for me and for Evie. I know you would have done the same for anyone stranded on the road.” As she said the words she realized they were true. Whit wasn’t the one-dimensional bad guy she’d painted him to be the past few years. There were layers to the man. “Still, the fact is, you were there for my child and I’ll never forget that.”
He smiled, his brown eyes twinkling with a hint of his devilish charm. “Does that mean I’m forgiven for refusing to let the shelter build on that tract of land you wanted so much?”
Layers. Definitely. Good—and bad. “I may be grateful, but I didn’t develop amnesia.”
He chuckled, a low rumble that drew a laugh from her, and before she knew what she was doing, she dropped her hand to his shoulder and squeezed.
“Thank you.” She leaned to kiss his cheek in a heartfelt thank-you just as he turned to answer.
Their lips brushed. Just barely skimmed, but a crackle shot through her so tangibly she could have sworn the storm had returned with a bolt of lightning.
Gasping, she angled back, her eyes wide, his inscrutable.
She inched along the riser. “I need to get Evie...and um, thank you.”
She shot to her feet, racing toward her daughter, away from the temptation to test the feeling and kiss him again.
That wasn’t what she’d expected. At all. But then nothing about Whit had ever been predictable, damn his sexy body, hot kiss and hero’s rescue. She’d been every bit as gullible as her mother once. And while she could never regret having Evie in her life, she damn well wouldn’t fall victim to trusting an unworthy man again. She owed it to Evie to set a better example, to break the cycle the women in her family seemed destined to repeat.
And if that meant giving up any chance for another toe-searing kiss from Whit Daltry, then so be it.
Six Weeks Later
The wild she-cat in his arms left scratches on his shoulders.
Whit Daltry adjusted his hold on the long-haired calico, an older female kitten that had wandered—scraggly and with no collar—onto the doorstep of his Pine Valley home. Luckily, he happened to know the very attractive director of Royal’s Safe Haven Animal Shelter.
He stepped out of his truck and kicked the door closed, early morning sunshine reflecting off his windshield. Not a cloud in the sky, unlike that fateful day the F4 tornado had ripped through Royal, Texas. The shelter had survived unscathed, but the leaves had been stripped from the trees, leaving branches unnaturally bare for this region of Texas, even in November. The town bore lasting scars from that
