Safe In The Rancher's Arms. Catherine Mann

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СКАЧАТЬ I can’t trespass on his good nature any further than that.”

      Megan lifted an eyebrow. “You’re staying with Drew? I thought he was the big bad wolf trying to gobble up your farm.”

      Beth held Stormy more tightly. “It’s not like that. When he saw that my house was going to need major repairs, he offered me a room. That’s all.”

      Megan grinned. “And how many other homeless females has he taken in?”

      “None.”

      “I rest my case.”

      At that exact moment, a horn honked outside, signaling Drew’s return. He carried in the supplies Megan had requested and glanced at Beth with amusement. “You both look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backward.”

      “Some of us have been working hard,” she said.

      He didn’t rise to the bait. “You ready to go?” He scratched Stormy’s tummy gently. The puppy practically rolled his eyes in ecstasy. Beth understood entirely. Drew’s big hands gave a woman naughty ideas.

      Beth looked at Megan and handed over the small dog. “I’ll come back again, I promise.”

      Megan tucked the pup under her arm and glanced at her utilitarian watch. “No worries. We’ve had lots of volunteers. Thanks for all you’ve done.”

      * * *

      Drew pointed the truck toward downtown. “You sure you want to do this?” The farther they drove, the more damage they witnessed. Beth stared in silence. At one point he saw a single tear slide down her cheek. But she didn’t wipe it away.

      “How can it happen so fast?” she asked, the words heartbroken.

      He understood that it was a rhetorical question. Though he had already seen the devastation yesterday and twice today, the senseless destruction still took his breath away. The random patterns of the storm’s fury played out much like what they had seen at Beth’s farm. Some streets were still impassable, cordoned off by orange and white barricades. Power poles had been tumbled like matchsticks.

      But in the midst of chaos, here and there, a potted plant survived...a child’s bicycle, a glass shop front. Signs of hope in the midst of incredible sorrow. Drew pointed to a family of four sifting through what was left of their modest two-story home. “Everywhere I’ve gone so far, people have been amazing. They’re putting it in perspective. Grateful to have each other.” Left unspoken was the thought that not everyone had survived.

      “Where are we going?” Beth asked, her voice subdued.

      “The high school. They’ve set up a large shelter area in the gym. How do you feel about reading books to kids?”

      “I have no idea. I’m never really around little ones very much.”

      “I’m in the same boat, but this came as a direct request from the shelter coordinator. They’ve provided phone service and internet connections so parents can deal with insurance details and anything else. But it’s hard for the children to be cooped up. Schools are going to be closed for at least a week, probably longer. The principal is lining up volunteers to plan activities and give some structure to the days.”

      “I’ll do whatever I can.”

      When they entered the gym, normally open to the community for basketball games and carnival nights, the scene was a cacophony of loud voices and crying children. Cots lined the floor in neat rows. It struck Drew that if he hadn’t asked Beth to stay with him, she might have been a resident here as well. He couldn’t imagine trying to keep a family together and entertained in the midst of such chaos.

      Thankfully, it appeared that social services and law enforcement were handling this very personal disaster efficiently and compassionately. Emergency preparedness training had kicked in, and relief efforts were functioning like a well-oiled machine.

      Drew steered Beth toward a far corner that served as command central. The site coordinator’s face lit up when she saw them. “You’re a gift from heaven,” she said. “The TCC members have been amazing. We’ve already started three age groups with other volunteers. I’d like the two of you to take the eight, nine and ten-year-olds to classroom 107. There are fifteen of them in all. You’ll find signs in the hallway directing you. Someone will deliver afternoon snacks.” She handed Beth a copy of Charlotte’s Web and two other books. “Thank you.”

      That was the extent of their training. Drew smiled at Beth ruefully. “Ready for this?”

      She was rumpled and hot and her ponytail was awry. But her beautiful eyes sparked with mischief. “I can handle anything you dish out. Bring it on.”

      In moments, they were surrounded by a gaggle of youngsters chattering excitedly—except for the few whose sober faces reflected a very adult understanding of all they had lost. One little boy with a crooked haircut and pants that were too short held Drew’s hand as they walked down the hall.

      Beth took the lead, playing the role of Pied Piper as they led their charges to the assigned spot. It didn’t take long to get the kids settled into their desks. The furniture was designed for adolescents, which was a novelty in itself. When a momentary quiet reigned, Beth lifted an eyebrow, holding up one of the books.

      Drew shook his head. “I’ll be bad cop, if necessary. You take the wheel.”

      Shaking her head with a wry smile, she took the teacher’s chair, pulled it from behind the large oak desk and sat down facing her audience. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. After reading quietly through the first few paragraphs, she found her rhythm and injected a note of drama into Fern’s character, particularly the girl’s outrage when she found out the small pig was going to be killed.

      At that moment, Drew realized his role as disciplinarian was going to be unnecessary. The children hung on Beth’s every word. She read nonstop for forty-five minutes, creating voices for each new actor in the beloved story. Even Drew found himself caught up in the classic tale.

      But after a while he went from listening to watching. The curve of Beth’s lips as she smiled. The nuances of expression on her face. The way she made eye contact with each child, as if assuring every boy and girl that she was reading just to him or her.

      It struck him that Beth Andrews would make an amazing mother. Drew hadn’t spent much time thinking about marriage and babies and home and hearth. After all, he was only thirty-two. He had plenty of time.

      But the storm’s havoc made him reassess a lot of things. Watching families pull together in the last forty-eight hours had shown him the importance of being grounded. Jed lived in Dallas, their parents in south Texas. Drew travelled often. Though his work was satisfying and he had a wide circle of friends and extended relatives, for the first time he wondered if he was missing something very important. Maybe he needed to think about the bigger picture.

      Beth ended a chapter as the promised refreshments arrived. Supervising snack time was a sticky, rowdy mess, but it reminded him of what it was like to be a kid. When the apples and peanut butter disappeared faster than a snowflake in the hot sun, he helped clean up the debris. Another volunteer arrived to shepherd the group of children back to their parents.

      Drew straightened one last row of seats and grinned at Beth. “Your talents are lost on farming. You should have СКАЧАТЬ