Somehow watching the storm rage on through the pretty lacy curtains over the kitchen window made it a bit less terrifying. It seemed the wind, rain and lightning would never let up.

Grayson had pulled on a yellow rain slicker and hat and had trudged out into the chaos. Twice I’d made him promise me that he wouldn’t climb up on the roof.

I finished drying the last plate and carried the stack of dishes to the cupboards. The antique clock, a blue and white porcelain beauty, clicked loudly, reminding me that Grayson had been gone a long time.

I stared down at my dress and bare feet. Both completely impractical for venturing out on a night like this. And I wasn’t sure just how brave I was feeling. Then it occurred to me that something might have happened to Grayson. It was pretty wild outside.

I walked to the back door and stepped out on the stoop. Rain and wind pelted me as I squinted through the misty darkness hoping to spot the yellow rain slicker. “Grayson!” I yelled, but the storm was too loud.

Another icy gust of wind sent the tree tops bending low, and my heart raced as I thought about the pine tree crashing through our kitchen window. I was shivering with cold by the time I stepped back inside.

There was no sign of Grayson anywhere. I raced to the stairs and climbed back up to the bedroom. I pushed aside the curtains and kneeled on the window seat, hoping to get a better view of the yard. It was futile. Each time I was sure I spotted something in the yard, rain would spray the window and my view would be obliterated.

It had been far too long for checking that a tarp was still fastened securely, even if he’d had to do some retying. I hurried over to the hiking boots that Coco had left for me. I pulled them on. I had no coat or rain slicker, but with any luck, I’d find Grayson long before I froze to death. My heart was sputtering with the fear that he might be hurt.

I hurried back down the stairs and hoped to hell that I would find him just walking in the door. But the bottom floor was quiet. There was no sign of him. I scurried to the entryway closet to search for something that might provide some protection from the cold rain. There were several coats, but they all looked vintage as if they’d been hanging there since the house was built. Rain would surely ruin them. I was going to have to brave the weather in my cotton dress.

I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. It was facing at just the right angle to avoid the onslaught of the wind propelled rain. The lightning and thunder had slowed to a dull roar, but the wind and rain forged on in near hurricane fashion.

The dress whipped around my bare legs, instantly numbing them with cold. I looked frantically around, but there was no sign of Grayson. I lowered my face and headed out from under the protection of the porch. It took the relentless downpour no time at all to soak my dress. Instead of swirling around my legs, the calico fabric clung to me like plastic wrap. I could hardly open my eyes wide enough to see, but the gravel trail leading to the side of the house glowed gray white in the otherwise pitch black yard. I needed to get to the place where I’d last seen Grayson working on the roof.

My feet stayed on the path, but the wind managed to push a shrub hard enough at me that its pointy branch scratched my leg. I felt warm blood mix with the otherwise glacial water pelting my skin.

I lifted my arm to shield my face and trudged forward. Grayson’s ladder was lying next to the side of the house. I lifted my face and squinted up to the roof. The tarp fluttered in the wind but stayed tethered to the roof. There was no sign of Grayson.

I looked around the yard. I’d been standing in that spot just this morning, but on a night like this, the entire place, old house included, looked unfamiliar and uninviting. I was standing out in a deluge searching for a man who was technically a stranger, a stranger who I might never see again after tonight. Yet my heart ached to see him, to know that he was safe.

I really had left myself vulnerable. This whole weekend could be chalked up as a terrible mistake. I had no phone, no way to reach anyone. If Grayson had been hurt, what would I do? I had no idea where Coco was or when she’d be home. I had no idea where I was and my friends and family had no idea either.

My throat tightened and unhelpful tears clouded my vision even more. I decided to circle the entire house one time. If Grayson needed help, I couldn’t just leave him out there on his own. I moved too abruptly to the left and smacked my knee hard on a bench. I managed to keep myself from falling face first by catching the dress on the same damn bench. I stumbled forward and heard the distinctive rip of fabric as I tromped ahead, determined to make my way to the backside of the house. The gravel path had different plans. A steady river of water gushing from the down spout on the rain gutter had carved a deep ditch, a deep ditch that my boots had no trouble finding. I slammed down hard on my knees.

The tears flowed faster as I pushed to standing on aching legs. Blood trickled from my knees, reminding me of my roller skating days as a little girl. I was going to be showing up for my first day as vice president of the company with bandages plastered across both knees.

I sobbed several times and then swallowed hard to pull myself together. I continued on the path to the back of the house. “Grayson,” I yelled loudly, but there was no response.

I rounded the far corner of the house but came up against a line of shrubs that were impossible to pass.

I spun around and screamed as I smacked into a large figure standing behind me. My first instinct was to pound the man with my fists. He caught my hands up fast.

“Jessi, Jess, it’s me.”

The biting cold and the sheer terror of being completely alone and helpless had gotten to me. I fell into Grayson’s arms and cried. He swept me up and carried me to the house. Every part of me was shaking uncontrollably. We reached the porch and he lowered my feet to the floor.

I’d finally gained some composure, something I’d taught myself to do quickly. Looking fragile was never helpful in the corporate world.

As wet as I was, Grayson looked as if he’d just dragged himself out of a muddy lake. Dirt and plant debris was plastered all over his skin and shirt.

The storm seemed to be losing energy, and the rain had fizzled to a heavy spitting mist. The wind still produced enough force to send an icy chill through me. I tried to control the tremble in my chin to speak. But it was no use.

Grayson reached for the door and I slipped inside. He stepped in behind me. We were both leaving a sizable puddle on the entryway rug.

“Why the heck did you go out in that terrible weather, Jessi? You could have gotten hurt.”

I looked down at my bloody legs. “Seems that way.”

He saw my knees for the first time. “Ah hell, Jessi, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I’m fine. They’re just scrapes.”

“It was silly of you to go out there dressed like this.”

Light, warmth and his scolding tone revived me some. “I was out looking for you. Where the hell were you? Where’s the yellow rain slicker? No wonder I couldn’t find you out there. You were checking on a tarp, but you were gone long enough to rebuild the whole damn roof.”

“Coco’s garden was flooding. I decided to dig a trench around it to lead the water away from her plants.”

“You should have told me. I thought something had happened to you, and I was all alone—” My voice sounded shaky, and I hated that I couldn’t sound more in control.

“You were worried about me, Jessi?” he asked with a grin. He reached for my arm, but I pulled it from his reach. I was still too shaken by it all to play nice. I was done acting the helpless female.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Grayson.” With that, I spun around and left wet footprints behind as I climbed the stairs to my room.