Safe In The Rancher's Arms. Catherine Mann

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       Six

      Drew struggled to stay focused on the conversation ping-ponging around the large conference table. Every man and woman in the room was a friend of his. And they were all well-respected members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. At Sheriff Nathan Battle’s request, the informal group had convened to discuss the coordination of cleanup efforts and the utilization of volunteers now that the county had been designated a disaster area.

      Nathan looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. Drew himself had awakened at 3:00 a.m. to a cold, empty living room. The fire had long since burned out, and Beth was nowhere to be found. He’d dragged himself to his bed and managed a few more hours, but he’d been up at first light, eager to get into town and assess the situation.

      The trouble was, though he was here, all he could think about was Beth. He’d left the keys to the truck he had promised her with the housekeeper. And Allan was supposed to be at Beth’s place at 10:00. But even so, Drew felt a churning in his gut that told him he was more invested in Beth’s situation than was wise.

      Forcing himself to concentrate, he was startled when his buddy Whit Daltry whispered in his right ear.

      “I helped rescue Megan’s daughter, Evie, from the daycare center yesterday. It was chaos. All those terrified parents and kids. I can’t imagine what Megan was going through.”

      Drew muttered softly in return. “I thought you and Megan were mortal enemies.”

      “Very funny.” Whit rubbed two fingers in the center of the forehead as if he had a headache. And he probably did. “Things change, Drew. Especially now.”

      The talk at the table had moved to an even more sober topic. Funerals. There would be a number of them over the next week. Fortunately, the mortuary and Royal’s three main churches had sustained only minimal damage.

      Drew spoke up at one point. “Jed and I would like to donate $100,000 to start a fund for families with no insurance.” One by one, people jumped in, offering similar amounts as they were able. A representative from social services suggested designating a point person to triage which needs were most urgent.

      Shelter would be the first priority. And then cleanup.

      The enormity of the task was mind-boggling. Drew looked around the table at Royal residents he had known since childhood, people who pulled together in times of trouble. The town had never faced a catastrophe of this magnitude. But together they would rebuild and help the helpless.

      The building in which they sat, the Texas Cattleman’s Club, was an icon in Royal. Built in the early 1900s, it had served as a gathering place for movers and shakers, primarily ranchers whose families had owned their property for decades. Though once upon a time a bastion for the good ole boys, the club in recent years had moved into the twenty-first century.

      Despite opposition from the old guard, the club had begun admitting female members. Not only that, the TCC had opened an onsite day care center. Times were changing. The old ways were beginning to coexist with the new. Both had something to offer.

      As a historical and social landmark, the TCC was an integral part of the town’s identity. Fortunately, the main building had survived the tornado, but downed trees had damaged many of the outbuildings. Broken glass and water damage seemed to be the worst of the problems.

      Gil Addison was on his feet now. “I think I speak for everyone in this room, Nathan, when I say that we’ll do whatever it takes, for however long it takes. As each of you leaves in a few moments, my assistant will be at a table outside taking volunteer sign-ups for shifts on various work details. I know most of us will have some personal issues to deal with, but I appreciate whatever you can do for the town. Because we are the town.”

      Applause broke out as the meeting ended.

      Jed ran a hand through his hair and turned to Drew. “I brought work clothes with me. What if you and I grab a bite of lunch and then I’ll stay here while you go get Beth?”

      “Sounds like a plan. Do you think Kimberly will want to help, too?”

      A funny look crossed Jed’s face. “I don’t think she’s free this afternoon.”

      Drew felt as if there was something going on there, but he had too much to juggle on his own without sticking his nose into Jed’s life. He was just glad his brother had been in Royal and not Dallas when the tornado hit. It felt good to have Jed’s support at a time like this.

      On the way out, Drew paused to speak to friends: Stella Daniels from the mayor’s office, who was playing a key role dealing with the media, and Keaton Holt, who co-owned and ran the Holt Cattle Ranch. Everyone’s demeanor was the same. Grief, determination, and beneath it all, a pervasive sense of loss. The tragedy had stripped away a semblance of security and left them all floundering.

      Drew signed up for a shift later in the day and spoke briefly with Nathan, reporting the damage to Beth’s home. When he finally made it to his truck, he waited for Jed to grab his things. “I think I’ll take a pass on lunch,” he said. “I want to catch Allen, the inspector, if he’s still around and hear the report on Beth’s house.”

      Jed nodded. “I’ll give you a rain check. Say hi to Beth for me...and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

      * * *

      Beth felt a trickle of sweat roll down her back. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, with temperatures reaching the lower eighties. That was Texas for you. A veritable smorgasbord of weather. For the first hour, she had been banned from the house while the inspector, hardhat in place, went over the structure with a fine-tooth comb.

      At last, he permitted her to enter. He took her around, pointing out spots that would require repair. Fortunately, the foundation was intact. That was a huge relief.

      Beth put her hands on her hips and frowned. “So if I had to sleep here, I could?”

      Drew’s buddy frowned. “Well, in theory, yes. But it should be a last resort. You’d be breathing in bits of insulation and maybe mold in the short term. I wouldn’t recommend it.” He clicked a few more times on his hand-held tablet and pursed his lips. “I should be able to get you this report by tomorrow morning. If you call your insurance immediately and give them my contact info, we can get the ball rolling. Hopefully, you’ll be near the front of the line.”

      “Thank you for coming.”

      He climbed in his car and lowered the window to say goodbye. “It won’t be so bad. To a layperson, this might look daunting, but a professional carpenter will have you back to rights in no time. I’ll be in touch.”

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