The Rancher's Miracle Baby. April Arrington

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       Chapter Two

      Tammy tilted her head and strained to pinpoint the soft cries escaping the demolished house in front of her. They were muffled and seemed to emanate from a stack of rubble next to...

      She stifled a sob, tore her eyes from the couple lying in front of her and pointed at a high pile of debris. “There,” she said.

      For a moment, she didn’t think Alex would move. He remained doubled over beside her, silent and still. But when a fresh round of cries rang out from the rubble, he shot upright, scrambled toward the towering mass in the center of the demolished home and began heaving jagged two-by-fours out of the way.

      The broad muscles of his back strained the thin, wet material of his T-shirt as he flung the debris away. He jerked to a stop when he reached a ragged portion of a wall—the only one left standing. A battered door dangled from its hinges and barely covered an opening.

      Tammy stepped to his side, hope welling within her chest. Other than a hole having been punched through the upper corner, the door looked relatively untouched. Just like the plastic hanger sitting on the ground in front of it. And the healthy cry of a child reverberated within.

      Alex reached out and gripped the doorknob, the shine of the brass dulled by mud and bits of leaves. The door squeaked as he pulled it out slowly, then propped it open. The dim light from the cloudy sky overhead barely lit the interior.

      A young child huddled on the ground against the back corner. He stopped crying and looked up, his red cheeks wet with tears. The denim overalls and striped shirt he wore were damp, too.

      His big brown eyes moved from Tammy to Alex, then his face crumpled. A renewed round of cries escaped him and echoed over the ravaged landscape surrounding them. Chubby hands reached up toward Alex, the small fingers grasping empty air.

      Tammy gasped, her chest burning, and glanced at Alex.

      He didn’t move. He stood motionless amid thick planks of wood and pink insulation. The increasing gusts of wind ruffled his hair and a stoic expression blanketed his pale face.

      “Alex?”

      Throat aching, Tammy hesitated briefly, then knelt and scooped up the boy. His thin arms wrapped tight around her neck, and his hot face pressed against her skin, his sobs ringing in her ears.

      “Alex.” She spoke firmly and dipped her head toward the boy at her chest. “What’s his name?”

      Alex blinked, eyes refocusing on her, and whispered, “Brody.”

      Tammy smoothed a palm gently over the boy’s soft brown hair. “We’re here, Brody.” Her chin trembled, and she bit her lip hard before saying, “We’re here now.”

      She stepped carefully over a large portion of the roof, the tattered shingles flapping in the wind and clacking against the rafters.

      “Don’t let him see,” Alex rasped.

      He moved swiftly to block the couple behind them, then cleared a safe path to the grass.

      Tammy walked slowly behind him, swallowing hard and concentrating on his confident movements. His brawny frame seemed massive above the razed house, and under normal circumstances his towering presence would have set her nerves on edge. But she didn’t feel the usual waves of apprehension. Only a deep sense of gratitude. And she found herself huddling closer to his back with each step, the boy in her arms growing quiet by the time they’d reached the road.

      Alex stopped and held out his hands, slight tremors jerking his fingers. “Let me have him.”

      Tammy nodded and eased Brody into his arms. Alex squatted, set Brody on his feet, then ran his palms over the boy’s limbs. He examined him closely.

      “Nothing’s broken,” he said, his strained voice tinged with wonder. “There’s not a scratch on him.”

      Brody whimpered and took two clumsy steps forward, bumping awkwardly between Alex’s knees and settling against his broad chest. He laid his head against Alex’s shirt and gripped the material with both hands.

      “I know, little man.” Alex dropped a swift kiss to the top of Brody’s head before pressing him back into Tammy’s arms. He spun away and started walking. “We better get him to the house. More clouds are rolling in.”

      Tammy looked up, her lids fluttering against the sporadic drizzle falling from a darker sky, then followed Alex. They took a different path than before, moving farther up the road before crossing to avoid the downed power line. The dirt drive leading to Alex’s house had transformed to slick mud, and what was left of the late-afternoon light died, giving way to night and leaving the ravaged path cloaked in darkness.

      Tammy swiped a clammy hand over her brow when they finally reached the front lawn. It seemed like the longest walk she’d ever taken. Her arms grew heavy with Brody’s weight as she waited outside for Alex to check the house and make sure it was structurally sound.

      “Razz,” she called softly, cradling Brody’s head against the painful throb in her chest and peering into the darkness.

      Closing her eyes, she shifted the baby to her other hip and listened for the sound of hooves or neighs but heard neither. Only the rhythmic chirp of crickets, the faint croak of frogs and a sprinkle of rain striking the ground filled the empty land surrounding them.

      Her legs grew weak, and a strange buzzing took over, assaulting her senses and mingling with the remembered images of Brody’s parents lying among the rubble.

      “You can come in.” Alex stood on the front СКАЧАТЬ