a storm like this? If these walls ever started to topple, nothing would stop their total collapse. Then, it wouldn’t matter whether they were outside or down here. They’d be just as dead.
That realization sapped her strength, leaving her almost without sensation. When her boss let go of her wrist and slipped his arm around her shoulders to guide her into a corner, she was too emotionally numb to continue to fight him. All she could do was pray and continue to repeat “Layla, Layla” over and over again.
“We’ll wait it out here,” he said. “This has to be the strongest part of the building.”
Maya didn’t believe a word he said.
Tommy’s quiet sobbing, coupled with her soul-deep concern for her little girl, brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, hoping she could control her emotions enough to fool the boy into believing they were all going to come through the tornado unhurt.
As for herself, she wasn’t sure. Not even the tiniest bit. All she could think about was her daughter. Dear Lord, are You watching out for Layla? Please, please, please! Take care of my precious little girl.
Chapter Two
Upstairs, the noise of the storm was increasing drastically. Things crashed. Banged. Glass shattered. Dust was shaken from the rafters. Bits of old plaster and goodness knows what else rained down on them. The single overhead bulb swung wildly, flickered, then went out, leaving the basement in total darkness.
Instinctively, Greg pulled Maya closer. She put her arms around both him and Tommy and bowed her head against his shoulder.
He felt her tremble. “Hang on. We’ll be okay.”
“But what’ll happen to my baby? You shouldn’t have stopped me. I shouldn’t have let you.”
He accepted the rancor in her tone because he knew his decision to take shelter had been the right one. “You’ll feel differently once we look upstairs. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the worst tornado outbreak High Plains has seen since the big one in 1860.”
He felt her shudder. “That would be devastating.”
“Exactly.”
Tommy was still sniffling. Greg didn’t have much experience with kids but he supposed the little boy was as concerned about his missing dog as Maya was about her family and friends. He knew he would have been at that age.
He was about to try to encourage Maya by mentioning the short-lived character of such storms when the building suddenly began to shake. Heavy wooden beams creaked and groaned overhead. Furniture, or something just as weighty, was being thrown and skidded across the office and hit the walls directly above their heads!
Maya screamed and pressed her cheek to his chest, holding tight.
The noise increased until it sounded as if a jet plane was taking off and flying right over their heads. The pressure in his eardrums made him feel as if he were rapidly descending a mountain road.
“Tornado!” Greg shouted.
Her shrill “I know!” was muted against his shoulder.
Time slowed to a crawl. Sounds of destruction seemed to echo endlessly.
Maya’s heartfelt pleas for deliverance were barely audible, but Greg could tell she was praying. He was tempted to do the same until his memories stopped him. He had decided long ago that he was in charge of his own destiny and nothing had happened since to change his mind. Let the woman pray if she thought it helped. He knew better.
Maya’s thoughts focused first and foremost on her daughter, then on the rest of her family. Jesse was running the Logan ranch north and west of town. He and Clay were all the blood relations she had besides Layla—and Jesse’s newborn triplets, of course.
If anything good was to come out of this terrible storm, perhaps it would provide enough incentive to draw Clay home again, to cause him to make his peace with Jesse. It tore her up to see her only siblings estranged from each other, especially now that Jesse and his wife, Marie, had three premature babies to worry about, too.
She tried to pray aloud, failed to find words, then resorted to quoting scripture. “The cares of the day are sufficient,” she whispered, hoping that would help relieve her unbelievable distress.
She felt Greg’s muscles tense. He stood very still, barely breathing. “What?”
“It’s from the Bible. In Matthew, I think. My paraphrasing.” She cringed against him again and stifled a whimper as the building gave another shimmy. The roaring was starting to lessen enough that they could hear each other speak without having to actually shout.
“I wouldn’t know if it was verbatim,” he said. “I never went to church much after my mother died.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It didn’t do her much good.”
Touched, Maya gave him a barely perceptible hug. “We won’t know that until we get to Heaven.”
Although he didn’t answer, she was glad she’d spoken her mind. Gregory Garrison might not claim to be a believer at present, but since he’d gone to church in the past, there was a chance he’d eventually come around again. She certainly hoped so because she couldn’t imagine the suffering he might have to go through if he continued to deny his faith. Especially if the destruction from this storm turned out to be as bad as she thought it was going to be.
Everyone had doubts at times, even the most devout Christians. It was those who continued to believe, in spite of outward circumstances, who coped best.
And as far as she was concerned, any man who would risk his own life to save a child he didn’t even like still deserved to share in the Lord’s daily blessings.
Greg held tight to the two he was guarding and listened to the battering on the floor and walls above. He desperately wanted to venture out, yet he wasn’t willing to endanger Maya or the boy merely to satisfy his curiosity.
Tommy had stopped sobbing and was now hugging Greg’s neck as if he never intended to let go, while Maya seemed to be holding her breath.
Finally, as the thudding and banging upstairs lessened perceptibly, his impatience won out. “I’m going to go take a peek. You two wait here. I’ll tell you if it’s safe to follow me upstairs.”
When he pried the child’s arms loose and passed him to Maya, Tommy began to sob again.
“We’ll go up in a few minutes,” Maya said soothingly, patting the little boy’s back through his damp T-shirt. “I promise. We have to let Mr. Garrison look around first to see if it’s safe.”
“I w-want Charlie,” Tommy wailed. “I want my dog.”
“I know you do, honey. Just be a little patient. I’ll help you look for Charlie soon.” She looked in her boss’s direction. “We both will, won’t we?”
“Yeah. Sure.” He had started to cautiously edge his way toward the stairway. “Sounds like the wind is still pretty strong. No telling how much is blowing around up there
