assumed that “setting Everett free” was probably going to require some digging. Well, she could do that when she returned after the wedding. For now, all she wanted to do was find the right spot.
Once she satisfied her curiosity—or at least as much of it as she was able to satisfy—she’d come back later on in the week. At that point she would do whatever needed to be done in order to discover this so-called “truth” that Adam Corgan had entrusted her with finding from beyond the grave.
“All very creepy if you ask me,” Maggie stated out loud, even though there wasn’t a soul around for what seemed like miles.
“Speaking of creepy,” Maggie murmured, reacting to the wind, which was making a really mournful, increasingly loud noise now.
Feeling uneasy, she looked around several times to assure herself that it was the wind and not someone, or worse, something that was howling like that. It almost sounded like a wounded animal.
But it wasn’t.
Finding out that it was the wind that was making such a racket and blowing so hard didn’t really comfort her as much as it should have.
By the time she came close to her destination, Maggie realized that the world around her, which had been fairly bright earlier, had suddenly turned dark and foreboding, as if a giant switch had been flipped.
Maggie stopped trudging over the rocky terrain about a foot shy of the tree her ex-father-in-law had marked and looked up at the sky.
The Texas sun had totally disappeared and the sky was beyond gray, almost black. The wind continued to pick up and was now making a really fierce noise.
That was when she suddenly remembered hearing something about a hurricane prediction. She had initially discounted it because half the time the weather bureau was completely wrong in its forecasts. Another 25 percent of the time, it was still off its mark by more than half.
“Why, of all possible times, did they have to pick this time to be right?” Maggie cried out in total exasperation.
The hurricane was no longer just a prediction. It was here. And getting worse.
Maggie quickly scanned the area. There was absolutely no place for her to hide. No place for her to take shelter from the coming storm.
And the hurricane, Maggie realized as she looked to her left, was coming straight at her.
When it was raging at its worst, Hurricane Brooke was gauged at having winds that were blowing through Whisperwood and its surrounding area at over 125 miles an hour, making it almost a category four hurricane. Taking the Texas town totally by surprise, the death toll quickly mounted and was currently up to thirty-eight and rising with dozens more still missing and unaccounted for.
A lot of Whisperwood’s residents sought refuge in their basements, but others weren’t so lucky. They were out in the open when the storm struck and scrambled for shelter anywhere they could, praying that shelter would hold.
Jonah Colton and three of his brothers had returned to the town where they were born a few days before the hurricane struck. At the time, they were all looking forward to seeing their brother Donovan become the first of their family to get married. As it turned out, three of the brothers belonged to Cowboy Heroes, a search and rescue team that scoured the countryside on horseback, rescuing people. They never dreamed they would have to put their skills to use in their own hometown, but things didn’t always go according to plan.
And this was one of those times.
The moment the winds died down, before the hurricane was even officially declared to be over, Jonah, Dallas, Nolan and Forrest, a former police detective forced into retirement after sustaining a leg injury, were out, putting their acquired skills to good use, searching for and rescuing survivors.
Some of the houses in the area lucked out and were barely touched, but they quickly saw that others had been completely demolished. In some cases, the people who had lived in those houses were now buried beneath them in the rubble. Those were the people that Jonah and his brothers focused on helping first, bringing them to the church’s recreational center, where survivors were being temporarily housed.
“You do a head count?” Jonah asked Forrest.
The latter, eight years Jonah’s junior, had recently been forced to resign from the Austin Police Department when a bullet to his leg had left him incapacitated. Thanks to adhering to a diligent regiment of physical therapy, Forrest was now able to get around again, although he did have a pronounced limp. Unable to just do nothing, he had joined the volunteer search and rescue teams in order to feel useful. When the hurricane struck, he immediately volunteered to help find victims of the storm.
Jonah knew better than to insult his younger brother by treating him any differently than he would the other members of the team.
They had been at this now for over twelve hours without a break. Most of the people they had helped dig out had just sustained injuries, some more serious than others. But some of those they dug out would not be recovering. Those bodies were wrapped up as carefully as possible and placed out of sight until they could be taken to the morgue. Ironically, the morgue had been untouched by the hurricane.
Inside the rec center when Jonah had asked him the question about a head count, Forrest knew that his brother was referring to the members of their family. He was relieved to answer in the affirmative.
“Dallas found Mom and Dad. They’re okay,” he said, realizing that was the first thing that any of them would have asked. “So are Donovan and Bellamy,” he told Jonah. “Nolan’s supposed to be bringing them here,” he added, looking around the rec center.
The recreation center was quickly filling up with people and cots at this point, but it was the largest common area available in Whisperwood. This was where town meetings were held, although the meetings had never drawn half this many people.
“There’s no way we are going to be able to put up even half the town in here. There’s got to be at least 5,500 people living in and around Whisperwood,” Dallas Colton guessed as he walked into the center.
“We’re sending the overflow to Kain’s Garage and the General Store. They’ve got large storm cellars,” Jonah told the others. “Hopefully, the storm’s not going to be doubling back. Otherwise,” he speculated as he looked from one brother to another, “the damage is going to be even worse than it is now.”
“This really isn’t so bad,” Dallas commented, reviewing what he had seen in the last twelve hours. “Compared to other hurricanes.”
Forrest frowned. “Try telling that to the families of the people who lost their lives in this,” he said grimly.
Rehashing the situation served no purpose now. “You’re right,” Jonah agreed. “Help now, talk later,” he told his brothers.
At that moment, Jonah spotted Donovan heading toward them, his hand firmly holding on to his fiancée’s. Donovan appeared exhausted and he looked as if he could definitely use a change of clothes. His were wet and streaked with mud. Beside him, Bellamy appeared almost numb.
