they had asked if they could go to the washroom, Josie had watched them go, then a little girl crying for her mother had caught her attention.
Ten minutes had passed before she realized the girls weren’t with her friend Nicki or anywhere in the church. Nor had anyone seen them.
Dear Lord, please let them be okay, she prayed as she stepped out into the wet street littered with branches, wood and hunks of soggy pink insulation.
What had she been thinking letting them even step out of her sight?
She hadn’t. She’d been too busy listening to the stories that came with each new person coming to claim their child from the preschool at the church.
And she’d been too busy trying to call her own grandmother who lived a few blocks away, hoping, praying the elderly woman was safe. But neither the phones nor her cell phone worked. She had no idea what had happened to her grandmother and, up until now, hadn’t dared venture out to find out.
“Alyssa. Lily. If you can hear me, you better be coming back to the church this second.” Josie tried to keep her voice firm and steady but it wobbled on the last few words.
She was going to tan their silly, irresponsible hides when she found them.
“Did you find them?” her friend Nicki called from the top of the church steps, the worry in her voice adding to Josie’s.
“No. I have no idea where to start looking.” Josie hugged herself, the wreckage of the town slowly impressing itself upon her weary brain. She was sure she would remember the roar, the fury and the howling rush of wind until she died.
“And I’m worried about my grandmother. I can’t get hold of her. I don’t know what to do first.”
Nicki joined her friend and gave her a one-armed hug. “Reverend Garrison’s niece Avery is still here. I can ask her to see what she can find out.”
“That would be great.”
“Reverend Garrison told me emergency crews are coming, too.”
Josie nodded, her eyes scanning the devastation hoping for a glimpse of either girl.
Across the street Tom Driessen stood in front of his pizza place, still wearing his white apron tied around his generous girth. Glass from the window of his business covered the street.
“Are you okay, Mr. Driessen?” Josie asked as she ran down the stairs.
“Yeah. But look at my place. What am I going to do? What are we all going to do?”
She wanted to help, but she had a more pressing mission. “Did you see two, little, eight-year-old girls? They both have red hair, green eyes. One was wearing a pink T-shirt and green shorts, the other a lemon-yellow sundress.” Josie had sewn the sundress herself and had just finished putting the buttons on it this morning, just before school.
“The twins?”
“Yeah.” Josie didn’t take time to correct him. The girls looked so much alike, this had been a common mistake from the day Lily was enrolled in school in High Plains.
“I was just cleaning up inside when I saw them go by.” Tom ran his hand over his face. He looked so tired.
“Which way did they go?” Josie tried to keep the panic out of her voice. She had to stay calm and rational.
“That way.” As soon as Tom pointed down Fourth Street, Josie knew exactly where Alyssa and Lily had gone.
“Thanks. Take care,” she said, her words an inadequate response. There was so much to do, she thought, the wreckage of the town overwhelming her. How would they get through this? Where would they start?
Focus, Josie. First you need to find Alyssa.
And Silas Marstow’s daughter.
The thought of facing that impassive face with the news that his daughter was missing was almost as frightening as the tornado itself.
Since losing his wife two years ago, Silas Marstow had virtually become a recluse on his farm. He extremely protective of his only child. He had reluctantly put Lily in Josie’s after-school-care program two weeks ago and only because he had some extra work to do on his ranch, according to Alyssa.
If he were to find out his daughter had disappeared from Josie’s after-school program right after a horrific storm had ripped through the town…
Josie hugged herself, still chilly from her reaction to the storm. She couldn’t remember ever being so afraid.
And the last time she had prayed this much was after hearing the news of her sister’s and brother-in-law’s deaths.
A deep voice called her name and Josie’s already overworked heart tripped into overdrive.
She turned to see Silas running down the street, his long legs eating up the distance between them.
He stopped in front of her, his eyebrows two slashes over deep-set eyes flashing his disapproval, his square jaw clenched in anger. “I just stopped at the church and they told me Lily wasn’t there.” His voice was an angry wave washing over her, but guilt and fear kept her tongue-tied.
Silas caught Josie by the shoulders. “Where’s Lily? Where’s my daughter?”
“She and Alyssa slipped out,” she managed to squeak out.
“What?” Silas’s grip on her shoulders increased, his pale brown eyes drilling into her. “You’re supposed to be taking care of her. I heard the reports, I saw the cloud, the storm. I came as soon as I could.”
“They only left a few minutes ago. Lily and my niece. I’m pretty sure I know where they are.”
“Pretty sure? That’s not good enough.” His eyes narrowed and he gave her a shake, as if trying to force the information out of her. “This town, this place…” His gruff voice drifted away as his gaze shot around, as if trying to take in the havoc around them.
A burst of wind, a remnant of the raging storm, tossed her long blond hair about her face. And as she pushed it back, her arm hit his. “If you’ll let go of me, I’ll go with you to find the girls.”
“Let’s go, then,” he growled, dropping his hands.
Josie turned blindly, her own fear and concern mixing with the shame she felt at letting the girls slip out of her sight at such a time.
Irresponsible. Reckless. The words her grandmother often tossed her way now slithered through her mind, resurrecting a wild past that still accused her.
She shouldn’t be in charge of these children. She couldn’t take care of them.
Please, Lord, let them be okay. She prayed through her fear and through the voices from her past that told her she was no good. Worthless and nothing but trouble.
But in spite of her prayers, fear clenched her stomach as she navigated her way over a downed tree. Beyond that an empty car lay on its side, glass strewn over a street still wet
