Blame it on Texas (19 page)

Carol groaned, gave them a weary smile, and waved as she and Jake walked away.

Logan looked at Megan, his face haggard and drawn. His attempt at a grin came across as more of a grimace. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"You and I will be alone in the house tonight."

Megan leaned against his side as he put one arm around her shoulder and led her through the treacherous path to the Suburban. "I'm so tired, I don't think I'd notice if the Morris Springs Tiger Band was camped out in the living room practicing marching drills."

Logan chuckled and pulled her closer. "I know what you mean." He sobered and looked down at her. "You did good work back there. So far, we've been really lucky. Some serious injuries, but no fatalities that I've heard about yet."

Megan nodded as Logan opened the passenger door and helped her inside, then helped Blue into the back seat. "At least there was enough warning for most everyone to find some kind of shelter. I'd hate to think anyone was caught out in the open."

When they pulled into the driveway, the headlights highlighted the mess in the yard. Tree branches, pieces of debris that looked like it might have come from some of the buildings in town, and a white, sticky goo covered the grass. Logan picked up a piece of paper and shook his head.

"What is it?" Megan walked over and looked to see what he was holding.

"A canceled check. From Jason Hilbert to the hardware store. Weird." He put the check in his pocket and continued up the steps. He pushed the door open and turned on the light inside. "Why don't you go take a bath while I call Sue Ann? If she's heard about the tornado on the news, she's probably frantic."

A hot bath sounded wonderful. Megan was chilled to the bone, and sore. Once she was in the tub, she wished she could stay there for what was left of the night. But she knew Logan needed a bath too, so she climbed out after a half-hour and wrapped a towel around herself.

She'd been in such a hurry to get in the tub she'd forgotten to take her pajamas in the bathroom with her. When she stepped out into the hall, Logan was coming out of his office.

He looked up and their gazes locked, then he smiled. "You look a little better than you did when you went in."

"Better than someone who's been drug through the mud, then coated with insulation and sheet rock dust? Thanks, I think."

"You're welcome. Would you do me a favor?" His smile had faded, the look on his face telling her whatever he was about to ask was serious.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Would you sleep with me tonight?"

By the time Logan managed to drag his aching body out of the bathtub, Megan was asleep in his bed, but he didn't mind. He just wanted to hold her as they slept, to have the comfort and warmth of her body snuggled close to his to ease the pain and turmoil of the last few days.

Without her there, he didn't think he could sleep even though his body was exhausted. His mind was too full of images he would never forget.

Jenny McBride, the waitress at the Prairie Dog who'd served their meal just days earlier, her face bloodied from a gash across her forehead. Ben Wheeler, the burly cook who had taken refuge in the café's pantry, with a piece of wood embedded in his shoulder. Carrie Sims, Mary Lee's teenage daughter, her arm broken when the bathroom door had slammed closed before she'd gotten all the way inside. Cindy Calvin, a young mother with two small children, deathly pale and holding her children in a grip so tight they'd had to peel her hands away to see that the kids were okay.

Logan shook his head to dislodge the pictures from his mind and crawled into the bed beside Megan. She stirred but didn't awaken, so he scooted up against her, spoon fashion, and rested his arm across her waist. In seconds he was sound asleep.

***

Logan winced as the early morning sun hit his eyes through the open curtains. It seemed like only minutes since he'd climbed in the bed. He glanced at the clock and realized he was late with the milking. Then Megan stirred beside him, her soft bottom brushing against his early morning erection, and he decided the cows could wait.

He slid his hand up her leg, then waited to see how she would react. If she pulled away, he would let her go. With deep regret, to be sure, but he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the tenuous détente they'd established.

Megan stretched and snuggled her bottom more tightly against his aching groin. He held himself still, scarcely daring to breathe. He sucked in a breath when she turned her head and her gaze met his. Her deep green eyes burned with desire. Then she turned in his arms and settled her mouth firmly on his.

Logan tightened his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. From her small, sweet breasts to her smooth, sexy thighs, she fit against him perfectly. He fisted one hand in her silky hair and held her head steady while he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

She slipped a leg between his and ran her dainty foot up his calf. He groaned  and released her mouth to trace a fingertip across her bottom lip. "Are you sure?"

She only nodded and pulled his mouth back to hers.

Megan was on fire and Logan seemed intent on making her wait for release. He slid her sleep shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Then his mouth began a lazy exploration that nearly drove her out of her mind.

She used her hands, then her feet, to push his sweat pants down his legs. He kicked them away, then went back to torturing her with his tongue. She fisted her fingers in his hair and tried to tug him back up her body, but he shook his head, his early morning whiskers rasping against her abdomen. His palms caressed her sensitive breasts as he his mouth moved across her stomach, dropping kisses along the way. Megan squirmed as his breath tickled the top of her thighs and she ran her hands across his broad shoulders and down his back.

He slid her panties down her legs, the whisper of satin raising goose bumps on her skin. His tongue followed in their path from her thighs to her toes. "Logan, please…."

He lifted his head and a sexy, mischievous grin spread across his face. "Ah, Megan. I do love it when you beg."

***

Thoroughly sated and pleasantly exhausted, Logan fell asleep with Megan wrapped around him. What seemed like only seconds later he was awakened by the sound of Blue barking and the doorbell ringing. He thought he might have to kill whoever was at his door so early.

Then he remembered. The tornado. The frantic search for survivors. Afraid something else had happened, he threw the covers back and grabbed a pair of jeans from his dresser. Hopping from one leg to the other as he pulled them on, he hurried down the hall.

He took a calming breath before he opened the door and braced himself for whatever news waited for him on the other side. But nothing could have prepared him for what he found when he opened the door.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Hello, Cowboy. You don't look so good, sugar. But don't you worry. Jean and I are here to help out and you'll be feeling better in no time." Without waiting for an invitation, Nancy opened the screen and stepped into the house, brushing a kiss across his cheek as she sailed by in a choking cloud of perfume.

Logan would have cried if he'd thought it would do any good. He couldn't match Nancy's lighthearted tone when he was ready to spit fire, so he didn't try. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

Jean smiled apologetically as she followed Nancy into the living room. "We heard about the tornado on the news and we came to see if there's anything we can do. I'm a pretty good cook as well as a licensed counselor, and, though you'd never guess by the way she acts, Nancy is a registered nurse and a licensed psychologist."

Logan gritted his teeth as he pushed the door closed. Nancy smirked at him from the couch and Jean settled herself into the rocking chair. He tried to picture Nancy working in a hospital but couldn't stretch his imagination that far. "Um, I'm sure the people in town will be glad to have your help. I need to go wake Megan and take care of the animals so we can get back to work." He forced himself to walk slowly from the room when what he really wanted to do was run. Fast.

***

They parked several blocks from town next to the cotton gin. The highway was lined with news vans, rescue equipment, and police cars. An ambulance moved slowly through the maze, then accelerated as it neared them. A helicopter sat in a field across the highway from the town center, the whipping blades stirring up bits of paper and trash around it.

Logan helped Megan from the Suburban, then held the door for the others. Nancy winked at him as she stepped down. "Such a gentleman."

Megan shook her head and started down the road, leaving Logan to get Blue out of the vehicle, lock it, then hurry to catch up. When he reached her side, he caught her hand in his and Megan caught Nancy's raised eyebrow and wink from the corner of her eye.

They passed several cars they recognized before they caught sight of Jake and Carol unloading supplies from the back of his pickup. Carol waved and called out, "Oh, good. You can help carry some of this stuff."

Logan grunted as she shoved a cooler into his hands. "What's all this?"

"Jake talked to the Sheriff and found out there are at least twenty families whose homes were destroyed. They lost almost everything and don't even have the basic necessities, so Jake went through his parents' things and we packed up whatever we thought someone could use."

Logan thought for a moment. "You know, there's a lot of stuff at Dad's that you and I won't need. We could donate some, too."

Carol nodded and handed Megan, Nancy, and Jean bulging plastic garbage bags to carry. "I know. I'm going to find out what's needed, then go back to Dad's later to see what I can find."

When they'd unloaded as much as they could carry, they headed toward the center of town. Nancy's banter slowed, then stopped, as she got her first look at what had once been the heart of Morris Springs. "Oh, my God." She turned to Logan and asked, "Where are they treating the injured?"

"The library," he said. He pointed toward the building and she and Jean took off across the street without another word or a backward glance.

Logan's heart pounded as he saw the mess he hadn't been able to see clearly through the rain and haze the previous afternoon. The top floor of the courthouse had been shrouded in mist, but in the bright morning sun he could see that all that remained was one damaged wall.

The gazebo was nothing more than kindling, the park benches twisted pieces of metal thrown helter-skelter across the lawn. What was left of the lawn, that is. The only thing untouched was the American flag proudly waving in the soft breeze.

Couples stood along the sidewalk, some catching their first glimpse of the devastation.  Volunteers manned tents set up in whatever clear spot was available, handing out food, drinks, and hugs to the workers. A group of Mennonite men in their classic black hats worked diligently, removing debris from the street to clear a path for the line of ambulances waiting to transport the injured from the library to the hospital.

Everywhere Logan looked, friends hugged or held hands, offering comfort and support. Entire families dug into the remains of shops, salvaging what they could, discarding what they couldn't. And in the midst of their own troubles, they took the time to offer their condolences on the death of his father.

"Logan, Jake? Can you give us a hand here?" Danny yelled and waved from the library door to get their attention.

They left the women to distribute the supplies they'd brought and went to see what Danny needed. When they stepped inside, Logan was amazed at the transformation from a quiet, sedate, somber building to a bustling, crowded infirmary. Makeshift beds were spread across the floor in neat rows, IV bottles lining the narrow spaces between patients.