Page 69 of Once Upon a Summer Night

Hannah.

Panic sliced through him, hot and fast. What was he doing, hiding in here when he should be out there making sure she and Noah were okay? He should be in his truck racing across town!

Another crack of thunder shook the house.

Strike that thought. Leaving now, he’d be more of a liability than a help. Besides, the farm had a storm cellar. So long as they were inside it, they were far safer there than he was here.

Seconds later, a group text message from Mia appeared.Everyone okay?

Del responded first.Yes, just got home from dinner.

Good, all safe here. Faye texted earlier, said they were all headed to the storm cellar, Mia added.

Chase breathed a sigh of relief. There wasn’t a safer place for Hannah, Noah, Faye, and the chief.

Chase?Del texted.You still alive, buddy?

He shifted to text her back and Smokey clawed his way up Chase’s side. “Ow, ow, ow, buddy. Enough with the nails!” He plucked the kitten from his shirt and repositioned him in their cramped quarters.

Yep, got Smokey in the tub with me. #unhappycat

Del and Mia both lol’d.

Grateful for his two older “sisters,” he switched back to the radar and was dismayed to see the blob moving closer to Brooks Farm. He prayed for Hannah and her family to be spared. Difficult as it would be, he could live with Hannah going back to Illinois. Even rejecting him. But the thought of losing her or anyone in her family cut him to the core. No matter what biology said, the Brooks were his family.

More house-rattling thunder. Howling winds and pelting rain. He heard a muffled crash, the sound coming from the back of the house. His grill, maybe, or one from a neighboring yard. Hopefully, his hammock trees would be spared. He doubted the hammock would.

Chase’s mind drifted back to the last time he’d been in his beloved hammock, and who he’d been in it with. Damn it, he shouldn’t have lost his cool and stormed out on Hannah earlier. He needed to see her, to try talking some sense into her. And if that didn’t work, well, he wasn’t above begging and pleading.

He didn’t want to lose her again, not when he knew in his heart that they were meant to be together. Chase loved her more than anything. Maybe if he’d actually said that instead of arguing with her, she’d have actually wanted to stay.

As the seconds ticked by, minutes feeling more like hours, the blob on his screen crossed over the farm and neighboring soybean field, then slowly began to dissipate. Red changed to orange, orange to yellow, yellow to green. Mother Nature gradually turned down the volume on her mighty thunder machine. When the tornado siren finally fell silent, Chase breathed a sigh of relief.

The chatter on his radio, however, increased thirty-fold. Trees uprooted. Wires down. Car windows shattered. Rooves damaged. Fallen branches everywhere.

It was going to be a busy night.

He pushed the mattress off his back and helped Smokey from the tub, then headed to grab his uniform. With dusk approaching, the station would need all-hands-on-deck to get the town’s active safety hazards contained and secured yet tonight. Chase sent another group text to his station brethren, asking if everyone was okay, if anyone needed anything, and for everyone available to head to the station if they were safely able to do so. Much to his relief, his station mates chimed in one by one, all safe, and everyone heading in who wasn’t already there.

This—this is what he loved about this town: everyone selflessly pitching in to help others in need. Pride filled his chest at being a part of that helping unit. He may stink at relationships, but helping people was something he’d been called to do.

And there was no place he’d rather do it than in Bourbon Falls.

Chase disengaged his garage door opener, manually lifted the door, and was rendered speechless by the view that awaited. It looked more like winter than late June, the street and yards before him covered in white, pea-sized hail and downed leaves and tree limbs. Lawn furniture was strewn everywhere, flowerpots toppled and shattered. By some miracle, the homes around him were all still standing. He hoped that would be the case throughout town.

Winds, they could deal with. Tornadoes, he’d rather not.

Chase helped his neighbors drag downed branches from their driveways and road, then headed for the station. By the time he arrived, most of the men were in the garage, staring at a new map of the town they had hanging on the wall. They’d trained many a time for emergencies like this, but only recently had Hannah suggested they come up with specific quadrants to assign rescue teams to. Today, they would be putting her idea into practice.

For a moment, he almost expected to see her among the assembled group. But this wasn’t her actual station, and she had a family to watch over on the farm. Still, it felt odd, her being completely radio silent at a time like this.

Fight be damned, he sent her a quick text, asking if they were all okay. If she didn’t respond in fifteen minutes, he’d text her sisters and see if they’d heard anything. He tucked the phone in his pocket and got to work helping the other captains get their station’s emergency operation center up and running.

With the chief still out, Kenny volunteered to man the phones and radio. He would act as the switchboard, routing calls between 911 and their rescue teams. Kenny took the scribbled list that Bill Falco had started when the storm first rolled in and quickly divvied it up between the quadrants. Armed with a prioritized list of locations to check, Chase and Joey jumped into one of the old spare pickups and headed into the chaos on the northwest side of town.

“This is crazy, man,” Joey said, navigating his way around debris and gawking spectators. Several large pines were toppled over, their upheaved roots now standing upright where the trunks had been. “I’ve never seen the town look like this.”

“Me either. How’d the wife and kids do with the storm? Your place okay?”

---