My body trembled and my teeth clattered. Above my head, wind and storm and rain pounded so hard against the metal doors I was terrified it would rip the doors right off. I was locked in, safe as could be, and all the errors I’d made in life still replayed in my mind, a constant loop of shoulda-coulda-wouldas.

Tears from fear had stopped hours ago, but the storm relented.

The sound of a train rushing overhead came and went, the roar, the wild whip of wind tugged at the doors.

I abandoned my phone hours ago when the screen went black shortly after I called Jordan. I put off heading to the shelter as long as I could, my eyes glued to the television in my living room, my hands clenched to the couch cushions, white-knuckling it so hard my hands still ached hours later.

Tornadoes popped up all over the state and I was sheltered in, locked in and had texted both Cooper and then my brother letting them know. My screen went black less than thirty minutes later, shortly after Jordan’s reply came in.

You okay?

My phone froze and I lost connection before I could reply.

I never saw one come in from Cooper.

I’d tried to eat, and stopped. I read for the first hour or two, and couldn’t do anything else other than listen to the weather radio, a crank up one that didn’t require batteries. My flashlight was next to me.

We had beds down here, put here when Jordan and I were kids and I was curled into the far back corner of the cellar, wrapped in a blanket, fighting against the urge to slam my hands over my ears as another round of trains barreled overhead.

Tornadoes.

Everywhere. All over the state. Based on the noise outside, the calm and the pounding, the wave after wave of heavy material crashing above my head, shaking the ground even though I was well beneath it, didn’t end.

It was ten o’clock. Based on the news of the weather, I had hours left of this torture.

It was the first time I’d had to come down here alone. Memories assaulted me of other times, as kids when Jordan and I would spend hours playing UNO or Go Fish or War. There were board games, covered with a sheen of dust on a shelf. Other memories. The storm that hit when I was seven that had set the Whitman’s house on fire.

Nights Joseph and I hunkered down. Nights where we passed the time concentrating on the feel of each other’s body, ignoring the whooshing of wind and the roll of thunder above.

Cooper shuddering, his entire body, as I led him down the stairs to show him what it was like. More like a bunker than a simple tornado shelter, my dad had taken great pains to make this area safe and sound and somewhere we could hide if we ever needed it.

The damage of this storm would be monstrous. I was already planning on tree removals. Figuring the costs of lost cattle. Thank God I took twenty to market a couple weeks ago and cattle prices were currently higher than normal giving me a decent hope of not being fully taken over financially by this.

I’d be fine. I’d come back from this.

I just really, really wanted Cooper next to me. If only I could text him. Call him. Hear his voice in my ear or even better, feel his hand grazing my thigh. His lips at my throat.

Goddamn it. Why did I let him leave me?

Never again. I didn’t care what I had to do when this was done, but he was never going to be apart from me again.

An enormous crash hit above. The cellar doors slammed against the ground and I jumped.

The hell?

I rushed to the doors, up the small and narrow staircase I had to turn sideways to enter carefully.

Dented. Right across the center of the doors. Right across the lock.

“Shit.” I shoved and the tiny amount of give usually on the locked doors didn’t move.

I moved back slowly, back to my corner.

And I listened. I waited. Weather forecasters continued to report.

My gaze stayed glue on the doors, dented. Covered.

As soon as the storm was done, as soon as he could, Jordan would get to me. He’d know exactly where to look.

I shoved aside the small bed as another pounding sound, this one worse, whipped into the air above me. Screeching. Crashing. Pounding and thundering, and my whole body trembled with fear as I curled into a ball and pulled the mattress over me.

Then, I closed my eyes and I prayed for every single person I knew, hundreds I’d never met and probably never would. But for the first time in almost a year, I closed my eyes and I prayed to a God I was certain had deserted me, that he’d hear my cries and he’d keep every single one of us completely safe.

---

Thump.

“Rebecca!”

Thump.

“Rebecca!”

Thump.

My eyes opened and I was covered in dark. Weight pressed down on me, but I quickly remembered where I was and shoved the mattress off me.

“Oh my God.” I groaned, stretched my legs. Pain shot up my shoulder and my fingers were numb.

I’d fallen asleep, finally, while storms careened over me.

Thump.

Voices. More than one echoed through the metal door.

I scrambled to my feet, shaking off the numbness from my hands while I ran the length of the shelter, up the small stairs. My palm slapped the metal doors. “Hello?”

“Rebecca!”

Jordan. Thank God. “I’m here!”

“Hold on, honey. We’ll get you out. You’ve got a tree on the doors. We’re getting ready to saw!”

“Okay!” I shouted back and headed down the stairs. My fingers tangled together and I stepped back. Waited.

The buzz of a saw echoed through the door. It lasted forever until finally, finally, the doors were peeled open. Men’s grunts filtered down and then bright sun shone through, illuminating everything.

I covered my eyes from the bright light, carefully walking up.

But Jordan was there, rushing down. “Hey there.” He pulled me into his arms, hugged me so tightly. His voice quaked.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Holy shit, I was so damn scared for you. Cell towers are down all over and I couldn’t leave the resort last night. We lost power and I had to stay, but fuck it killed me to not know what happened here.”

“I’m fine. It’s okay. See?” I stepped back and raised my arms. “I’m safe. But I’m ready to get out of here. How bad is it up there?”

He flinched. Jordan never flinched. “What is it?” I asked, already trying to push by him but my brother wasn’t only tall and large, he was strong.

“Wait.”

“Why? What happened.”

“Rebecca.” His hand went to my shoulder and he squeezed. And, if I saw it correctly, his chin trembled. Jordan wasn’t just strong physically, but emotionally. He held me up through so much, what I saw on his face terrified me.

“Jordan?”

“The house.” He choked out the words.

“No.” My head shook. No.

“You’re safe. We’ll figure it out. But the house is gone, Rebecca.”

All the blood rushed from my body and spread to the floor. I was cold. So cold. He was wrong. He had to be. I pulled out of my brother’s hold and he let me go, he easily could have detained me, but his steps were right behind me.

“It’s just a house, honey. Just a house. You’re safe. Everyone in town is good from what I’ve heard so far. There’s so much damage all over, but it’s all stuff.”

It wasn’t just stuff. It was my house. My childhood home and the home I knew I’d always raise my children in and their children would visit. I’d be the old grandma, rocking grandbabies on the patio, watching the sunset and sneaking them sugar long after their mom and dad told them no.

I reached the top of the small staircase, my eyes unable to take in the sight.

There was nothing.

“My God.” I stumbled back, my knees gave out, but Jordan was there, his arms slamming to my stomach and pulling me against his chest. “No!”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, collapsing to the ground with me.

There was nothing. No house. A garage was down. All around me was destruction, parts of my house scattered as far as my eyes could see. Trees. Half of the barn.

“The animals,” I said, not recognizing my own voice.

“I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out.”

I turned into my brother’s arms and sobbed.

---

“I don’t know where to begin.” I surveyed the area, the complete flattened home in front of me. The goat barn and pen area were fine, all the animals miraculously unharmed. The chicken coop was destroyed, and I’d lost some chickens. The rest were wandering around the ripped up grass. Beyond the main house, the guesthouse didn’t have a single speck of visible damage. It was beyond amazing. Everywhere my eyes stretched, disaster left its mark except for the guesthouse. We’d taken Joseph’s old truck out through the land, dodging down trees and chunks of my house. A showerhead here, bedding there. Clothes and papers and ground up, unidentifiable chunks of garbage or belongings flung every which way. All of it turned to shreds, like my house had been tossed into a blender and someone hit the puree switch.

“You don’t have to start today,” Jordan said. He hadn’t left my side and he was hurting more than he was sharing. He never wanted anything to do with the ranch, but this was still his home, too.

I picked up a cracked dinner plate and tossed it like a Frisbee. It slammed into a downed sweet gum tree and shattered. “I have to do something.”

The shock came in ebbs and flows. A photo here, a scrap of lace underwear beneath my feet. God. I’d seen tornado damage before but never this extensive. My belongings had to be spread through the town for miles.

“How’s town?” I asked Jordan. Our cells were still down, but he’d had to drive completely through it to get to me.

“Most of it looked okay other than downed trees. Downtown was good. Few businesses lost windows. Just the outliers were hit the worst.”

“Whitman’s? Jefferson’s?” I hated the Jeffersons, but I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.

“Whitman’s were good. Haven’t seen Jefferson’s. My priority was getting to you.”

“Good.” I stood and stretched. I didn’t even know how to begin setting up piles, what was trash, what was salvageable. For a brief moment, I thought about setting fire to all of it.

A small, white car caught my attention and I focused on the small car coming closer. “Who’s that?”

“No idea.”

It slowed at the main road, rumbled over the cattle guards and pulled in.

“Holy crap.” It left me in a breath, but I was already running. I felt him.

Without a phone, I hadn’t been able to even try to get ahold of him, but as I’d sobbed in Jordan’s lap hours ago, I’d cried harder, missing Cooper and his own strength and determination.

I met him on the drive, nowhere near the house. The car pulled to a sudden stop, wheels sliding on the gravel and then he was there climbing out of the car.

I scarcely noticed his rumpled clothes, his rolled up white and gray striped dress shirt before I flung myself at him, tears of joy and relief and fear and sadness all rushing through me. “You’re here.”

I jumped and his hands went to my ass, one foot going back a step as he caught me. “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“I’m good. Safe. Not hurt. Just everything else.”

“No fucking shit. Your house—”

“I know.” I shoved my head into the crook of his neck. “But you’re here. I was so worried.”

He laughed, pressed his lips to my hair. “Worried about me? I’ve been scared to death about you since I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. Called Max, flew to Lincoln, drove here. All fucking night.”

“What? Lincoln? As in Nebraska? But that’s four hours away.”

“Three and forty-one minutes.”

“You came for me.” Adrenaline and emotion crashed together and I hugged him tighter. “You came for me.”

“Always.” His arms squeezed me tight and he started walking, carrying me like a young child and he didn’t give the first fuck. “I’ll always come for you. This is some serious fucked up shit. Scared out of my brain as soon as I hit Kansas. There’s shit down all over the place. Roads closed. Towns destroyed. I almost had to stop and throw up more than once, Rebecca. You have no idea how terrified I was.”

“I’m safe.”

“Thank fucking Christ.”

He stopped where Jordan and I had been. “Hey.”

I assumed it was to Jordan. I was correct when Jordan slapped his shoulder, walking past us. “Glad you’re here, man. Good to see you.”

It was probably time to stop clinging to Cooper like a starfish. I unwound my limbs and slid down his body, cupping his cheeks as my feet hit the ground. “You’re really here.”

I was grinning like an idiot.

He looked as handsome as ever. “Always,” he repeated. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And…before I puke at the cuteness of you two, I’m going to head out.”

I rolled my eyes at my brother. “Thank you. For everything.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He snagged the back of my head with his hand and yanked me to him, giving me a brotherly kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll come back later, but I need to see to the resort now that you’re not here alone.”

I hugged him again. He clasped hands with Cooper.

Then, once he climbed into his car, Cooper and I turned back to where my house stood yesterday. “What the hell do we do now?” he asked.