Page 70 of Once Upon a Summer Night

Joey nodded. “Kids were nervous, but Mama, she didn’t even flinch. Tree came down on our pool, so that’ll need to be replaced. Better it than the house, though. How about you?”

“The only kid I live with wasn’t a fan of the storm,” Chase said, holding up his arm, angry red lines now covering it. “But nothing fell on the house, so that’s a blessing. I didn’t dare look out back yet, was more worried about getting in here.”

“What about Hannah? Was she with you?”

Guilt gave his chest an uncomfortable squeeze. Then again, maybe it was best that she hadn’t been with him. That tub would have been one hell of a tight fit for two.

“No, she and Noah are out at the farm. Safer there—the chief has that storm cellar. But I haven’t heard from any of them yet.”

Chase glanced at the dashboard clock. Her fifteen minutes were up. Dammit, why hadn’t she texted him back yet?

“Do you want to run by there, make sure they’re okay before we hit these other places on the list?” Joey asked, scanning its contents. “No serious injuries on here, just mostly residential cleanup.”

He was about to tell Joey no, that he would wait a little longer to hear from her when his cell phone began to ring. He was disappointed to see Del’s number, not Hannah’s, on its screen.

“Chase? Where are you?”

“I went in to work to help with cleanup,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

“No. I can’t get ahold of Hannah, Faye, or Dad. I know their phone reception sucks in the cellar, but I expected to hear from them by now.”

Worry wove like ice through his veins. It was one thing for Hannah not to respond to his text right away, but that Del couldn’t get ahold of anyone out there had him anxious. Something wasn’t right. Mind made up, he directed Joey to head for the farm.

“Del, we’re going to swing by the farm and check on them.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

That was Delaney, charging ahead without a second thought. Tonight, as always, he appreciated her willingness to help. “You may want to swing by the shop and grab the chainsaw. We might need it to clear the drive if the farm looks anything like it does in town.”

“Actually, it’s in my truck. I was helping Mrs. Harper with some unruly yews earlier.”

Chase laughed. “Perfect. See you in a few. And Del? Be safe.”

“You too, pard.”

He disconnected and flipped on the truck’s siren and lights. Joey stepped on the gas, skillfully navigating his way around fallen branches, toppled basketball hoops, and rogue lawn chairs. Chase kept his phone in hand, wishing it would light up with a call or text as the landscape went by in a blur. But it didn’t.

Hold on, Hannah, we’re coming for you.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hannah sank backagainst the storm cellar’s top steps, exhausted from pushing. No matter what she tried, those doors weren’t budging; something outside had to be preventing them from swinging up and open. And with no cell phones available, their only option was to sit and wait for the others to come check on them.

Why had she picked today of all days to leave her cell phone on the kitchen counter along with the snacks she’d tried to pack? Though, in all fairness, the storm had escalated quickly. By the time she’d raced outside with Noah to help her aunt get her father and his full-leg cast out to the storm cellar and down the stairs, there’d been no time for going back. After nearly being knocked over by a gust of wind, she’d chosen safety over her phone and pulled the doors closed behind them.

Clearly, she didn’t have this mom thing down pat just yet.

“Save your energy, peanut. Help will come.”

Her father was right. Thank goodness they had family and friends close by—a timely reminder if there ever was one. She just prayed that they were all safe and sound.

And that she’d soon get the chance to talk to Chase so she could try to dig her way out of the massive hole she’d created. Gah, it was killing her not to know if he was okay or not. Or the rest of her family. Or the rest of the town, for that matter.

“Want me to help?” Noah asked, climbing the steps to come sit beside her. He flexed his right arm. “Chase said my throwing arm is getting stronger every day.”

Hearing that name gave Hannah’s heart a painful squeeze. “I’m sure he’s right, sweetheart, but I’m afraid it’s going to take more strength than all of us have combined to get these doors open today.”

“My bet is on the river birch,” her father said from his seat near the bottom of the steps. His casted leg was elevated, his foot resting on an old whiskey barrel that Max Williams’s family had given them eons ago. “Pretty shade trees but too soft to stand up to those winds.”

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