Before the tornado, Emily thought she’d known what it meant to work hard. She was so wrong. The amount of manual labor she’d performed in the past thirty-six hours was nothing short of insane. Her body ached in places she didn’t know it was possible to feel pain, and she’d drunk more water than she had in her life.

Still she kept going, because nearly all of her employees had shown up the past two days and were working beside her. There was no way she’d expect anything from them that she wasn’t willing to do herself.

She also thought she’d known what it meant to feel breathtakingly sad and lonely. She’d lost a father, a grandfather, even friends when she’d moved away from her hometown. But the pain of spending the past couple of days without Reeve’s presence—not even through call or text—was profound. If it weren’t for the numbing monotony of the cleanup, she’d be holed up in her bed right now. Thankfully there had been no choice—or no time—to feel sorry for herself.

It was Sunday morning and she’d just gotten off the phone with the insurance company. They apologized for the delay but explained to her that they were swamped and getting to everyone as fast as they could. Emily understood and thanked the woman when she promised to be out Monday morning.

According to the most recent update, the fatality rate was now at sixteen, and that was only in the city of Manhattan. The storm system had traveled through four states, and now twenty people had lost their lives across the Midwest. Every time Emily thought about it she wanted to cry. Partly because it was devastatingly sad, but also because she felt guilty and grateful that no one close to her or who worked for LAM had lost their life.

Sadly, Amanda’s aunt Lena hadn’t been so lucky, her trailer leveled on the outskirts of town. Emily recalled her from the wedding, but they’d never officially met. Just the same, Emily planned to go to the funeral on Thursday to support her best friend and her mother.

The sound of vehicles caught Emily’s attention and she stopped to watch two Humvees enter the parking lot. Wiping sweat from her forehead, she dropped the piece of glass in her hand into a box. That’s what a lot of the work had been thus far: everyone donning thick gloves and picking up pieces of glass. She could barely stand straight, her back was so sore from the constant bending over.

Daniel walked up beside her. “I wondered if we’d get any help from them. Seems like they’re all over town.”

She’d wondered the same thing, and now her heart was pounding in her chest, hoping that maybe Reeve would be part of this group. Every time she’d driven through town and seen men in uniform she’d looked for him. The last two nights she’d lain down in bed exhausted, but both times the last thing she’d seen in her mind was the look of shock and pain on his face the last time they’d been together.

He said he’d lost everything. It broke her heart to imagine what he meant by that but she hadn’t yet had the courage to drive by his home and see for herself. Just as well; the Guard had blocked many roads to the worst-hit areas, so she told herself she wouldn’t get through anyway.

The Humvees pulled up near the building and at least eight men got out. Emily began walking toward them, her eyes scanning beneath the brims of their helmets. Sadness filled her chest when she realized that none of them were Reeve.

Along with Daniel, Emily greeted one of the men. “Hello. I’m Emily Phillips, the owner of LAM.”

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Sergeant Cavallo.” He was a tall man, golden-skinned, with kind dark eyes. “It’s our orders to help you with cleanup of your property. With your permission, we’ll get right to work.”

“I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re here.” She meant it. Although she’d have been a lot happier if an entirely different man stood before her in uniform.

“Our pleasure, ma’am.” He turned to speak to the other men and Emily watched in fascination as they grabbed tools and gloves, then immediately dispersed.

She turned to Daniel. “Well, things should go much faster now, I guess.”

“I thought he might be with them,” he said.

Emily gave a faint smile. She hadn’t really spoken about Reeve with her assistant at all, but he was a smart guy. Plus, he’d probably been talking with Natalie.

“So did I, Daniel. So did I.”

Together they headed back toward the building and got to work once again.

* * *

Reeve’s phone rang. Seeing that it was Tyler, he answered on the first ring. “She there?”

Tyler chuckled on the other end. “She’s here. Like a tiny beast, this one.”

Reeve’s eyes slipped shut and he chuckled, his body exhaling with relief. He’d known Emily was okay physically, but not going to her, seeing her again with his own eyes, had been difficult. “How much work still?”

“Quite a bit. We’ve been here for about an hour and put a good dent in it, but her employees are amazing. There’s at least sixty people here. If they’re not cleaning, they’re bringing food, water, driving people into town to use the restroom. The plumbing here is turned off.”

Reeve looked around. The same thing was going on in the neighborhood where he was working. Everyone came together, did whatever needed to be done to help one another out. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Listen. I know it’s none of my damn business, but you should be here, man. She’s working her ass off. Her face is dirty, she’s covered in sweat, and she looks exhausted. I heard someone say that they’d been working since the crack of dawn yesterday.”

“Tyler, you don’t know everything.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do know if this was my woman, I wouldn’t allow her to work this hard.”

Reeve scoffed. “Clearly you don’t know Emily well. She doesn’t need me.”

“Bullshit. She’s willing to get her hands dirty, fine. I still wouldn’t allow her to work this hard without me beside her. You should be here.”

“My orders are—”

“Fuck that, Miller. Your orders are to clean some shit up and do what needs to be done. Now, what do you think needs to be done?”

The line went dead and Reeve cursed to himself. Tyler was right. Two of his friends, Tyler and Aiden, were currently helping Emily at LAM and here his dumb ass was a few miles away thinking about her. It didn’t make any sense.

He decided to finish the project he was on, which was helping to fill a tow truck with debris, but as soon as the next load was full, he was going to her. Within an hour he texted Tyler.

REEVE: I’m on my way.

TYLER: Too late. She left about thirty minutes ago. I bet she went home.