This Time(23)

The image of the puppy, terrified and alone in the storm, immediately drew her thoughts back to her father. Anxiety knotted her middle. "Daddy's out there," she whispered after a moment.

Burke settled on the floor next to her. "Maybe not, Belle," he said, stroking Little General's soft head. The puppy buried his nose under Burke's arm.

With determined, metered words, he began to pray. "Lord, You are our fortress. Keep us safe. Protect Duke. Protect my family. Let this storm pass right over us."

On instinct, Belle dropped her head to his shoulder and let the presence of her old friend, and the power of his prayer, comfort her. In her mind and heart, she prayed with him, pleading to the Lord for her father's safety.

Beside her, the dogs howled, their pitch sending a chill over her scalp and down her arms. "Hush now, fellows. You heard Burke. The Lord is watching out for us."

The terror lasted only a few minutes. The cellar door ceased to rattle and bulge. The wind no longer whined like the engine of a lone train. They waited in the dark for a few tense moments, listening.

Finally, Burke unlatched the door and stepped out of the cellar into a soft summer breeze.

"Hand me the flashlight," he said, the puppy squirming from his arms and jumping to the ground.

She slapped the light in his hand and found another one on the shelf for herself.

The dogs scurried up the steps, barking and yapping.

"Come on up."

"How bad is it?" She stumbled as she hit the first step, her legs shaky, her muscles feeling soft as putty.

He shined his light on her. "You okay?" he asked, extending his hand.

"I'm fine," she said, rubbing her knee, gaining control of her legs and stepping past him into the summer night. Stars twinkled down at her from the night sky and a light wind brushed through her hair. "I can't believe it," she whispered. "It's so calm and peaceful."

"Amazing, isn't it?"

She nodded, her eyes following the glow of the flashlight as she panned the grounds. Debris littered the yard and one of the large cottonwoods had been uprooted and smashed into the front porch. Miraculously, that was the only damage left in the storm's wake.

"We gotta find Daddy," Belle said, running for her truck.

Burke reached for her. "You can't drive your truck."

She followed the beam from his light. A few yards away, her classic '57 Chevy lay on its side, wheels spinning, going nowhere. "We can turn it over," she blurted out.

"That truck weighs a ton."

She faced him, shining her light in his face. "He's out there and I'm going to find him."

"Hold up, Belle. Take a minute to think. Where are you going to look? You don't know where he is. He could be in town, at a neighbors, or friends."

"Think? There's no time to think, Burke. Jake said he rode off on Pepper. My guess is that he's--"

Headlights flashed from the driveway, and a sheriff's truck pulled alongside them.

"Paul," Belle said, desperation in her voice as she peered in the driver's window. Gates' husband was a welcome sight. "Daddy's out there somewhere."

"Where?" Paul asked, the squawk of his radio detailing the disaster of the tornadoes.

Burke stepped up to the window. "We don't know."

"I think he's in the south pasture," she replied.

Paul tipped his head toward the doors. "Get in."

He took the four-wheel drive truck overland, his angular face stern, and his thick hands gripping the wheel. Desperate weather reports confirmed Belle's worst fears. An F3 tornado touched down north of the county and ripped its way south. The grazing land they'd planned to fence in lay right in its path. If Duke left the ranch after dinner to survey the fence line, he rode right into the storm's path.

She fretted as images of life without her loving, stable, wise father haunted her. If anything happened to him, how could she live with herself?

The truck tore over wet prairie grass, bouncing and crashing over knolls. The radio broadcasted one emergency call after another and declared that a third twister had ripped through the eastern part of the county. In the midst of all the radio noise, Burke's cell phone rang. Belle glanced at him, annoyed.

"The tornado missed the Circle B. The horses are over there," he explained briefly.

A moment of relief hit her, but it didn't last.

In the next few anxious moments, the truck's headlights caught the black coat of Duke's mare racing wildly across their path.

"Paul, there's Pepper."

"Careful," Burke warned with a low tone. "Don't spook the old girl. She's had a rough night."

Belle nudged Paul, telling him to cut the wheel hard left. "I know where she's going."

"The corral?" Burke asked.

"Yep."





Chapter Eleven





Duke lay face down in a swirl of mud and water. Belle stumbled from the truck and knelt next to him, panicked.

Paul and Burke hustled to her side. Burke rolled Duke over and rested his head on his legs.

Belle watched, unbelieving. "Oh Lord," she prayed with a sob, the reality of Duke's fate taking hold of her.

Burke performed CPR while Paul tried to radio for help. But the storm had rescue crews scattered all over the county, and it became apparent that Duke would have to be transported in Paul's vehicle.