Falling For The Single Mom. Mia Ross
a horrified scream, Heather raced after Josh, only to be thrown back by a stiff wind driving a wall of rain so fierce, it nearly knocked her down. Struggling against the storm, she doggedly fought her way across the park, arriving at the building a few seconds after Josh.
The door to a side landing was open, and three women stood there, apparently trying to decide how to best get the children to safety. Dodging fallen limbs and a tangle of branches, Josh pushed toward the porch with Heather close on his heels. When they reached the house, she was terrified to see that the tree had only partially fallen, the rest of it hanging precariously by what appeared to be nothing more than a few splinters.
“Everyone okay?” he asked no one in particular, glancing at the roiling clouds overhead.
“I think so,” one of the teachers said. “We’re counting heads right now. We need to get out of here before the rest of that tree comes down on us.”
“Good idea,” he replied in a voice that Heather thought was abnormally calm considering the perilous situation. “How many kids are here today?”
“Ten, and they can all walk on their own.”
“They’ll fit in my truck. I’ll be right back.”
Heather gave him back his keys and begged him to hurry, but he was already dashing across the park. She stayed behind to help gather the children together, all the while searching the frightened group for Bailey. Just as Josh’s truck pulled up alongside the landing, the fourth teacher joined them, a grim expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Heather demanded, feeling panic starting to creep in. “Where’s Bailey?”
“She went to the bathroom just before things got bad. I tried yelling in to her, but I couldn’t hear anything over the wind. I didn’t see her anywhere else, so I think she’s still in there. I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t get through to her. We’ll have to wait for the fire crew.”
The emergency siren in town began wailing as the young woman sent a look toward the front section of the house buried beneath the trunk of a tree at least six feet in diameter. Seized with dread, Heather took one step in that direction before a pair of strong hands clamped down on her shoulders to stop her.
Infuriated by the manhandling, she jerked free and glowered up at Josh. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Give these ladies a hand getting the kids over to the church,” he replied in that calm, steady voice, cradling her trembling hand in his as he pressed his keys into her palm. “You’ll all be safe there until the storm’s over.”
“I’m not leaving Bailey here. She could be hurt.” Or worse, she added silently.
“I’ll get her, and we’ll meet you over there in a few minutes,” he said as if they were discussing plans to rendezvous at the playground. When she refused to move, he gave her a gentle smile. “I promise.”
Recognizing that she wouldn’t be much help with the dangerous heavy lifting he’d have to do just to reach the bathrooms, Heather reluctantly gave in. “She hasn’t met you, and she’s been taught never to go anywhere with a stranger. Her safe word is unicorn. That little girl means everything to me,” she added as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Please don’t let anything happen to her.”
“I won’t.”
With that simple vow, he was gone.
* * *
The restrooms were at the very front of the house, and Josh carefully picked his way through the rubble, moving as quickly as he dared. If he could safely slide an obstacle aside he did, but for the most part he was ducking and crawling. Built of century-old oak, the remaining trusses overhead didn’t look like much to him, and the groaning timbers indicated that the structure wouldn’t hold up much longer.
After what felt like forever, he found the door to the girls’ bathroom lying askew on the floor, the painted picture of Little Bo-Peep torn from all but one of its screws. The jamb was cockeyed but more or less intact, and he murmured a quick prayer for Bailey’s safety before stepping inside. The lights had been knocked from their sockets, so the only light came from a small window. Dust and debris hung in the air like a dense fog, making it nearly impossible for him to see.
Taking out his phone, he turned on its flashlight and swept the room, hunting for a child who was probably scared out of her mind. A huge limb had crushed the stalls, but thankfully no one was in either of them. The shrieking wind died down for a few seconds, and he heard a whimper off to his right. He swung the light around to find a dust-covered little girl cowering under one of the sinks.
“Hey there,” he said in a purposefully casual tone. “I’m thinking you must be Bailey Fitzgerald.”
Blue eyes wide with fear, she mutely stared back at him. She was holding her left arm but otherwise appeared to be unharmed. The roof shifted ominously overhead, and he realized that if he didn’t get her out of here quickly, they might be trapped inside when the rafters caved in. He didn’t dare crawl over to her, for fear of disturbing the pile of debris that was currently holding up what remained of the ceiling.
Since she was much smaller than him, he thought Bailey could wiggle out of her hiding place and over to where he was standing without compromising the stack. Hoping to coax her into the open, he forced a grin. “I’m Josh Kinley, Erin’s little brother. Your aunt sent me in here to make sure you washed your hands.”
That got him nothing, and panic started creeping up his spine. If she wouldn’t come to him, he’d have to go in after her and risk toppling the pile onto them both. Just when he was beginning to think that was his only option, he remembered what Heather had told him about unicorns. He didn’t know what a safe word was, but he figured he had nothing to lose by trying.
“Your aunt said that when I found you, I should tell you ‘unicorn.’”
Like a key to a lock, the single word opened her up, and in a trembling voice she said, “I’m scared.”
“I know, but you’re gonna be fine. If I hold this beam up, do you think you can crawl over here?”
She nodded, and he braced his hands on the timber to keep it steady while she shimmied across the floor. When she reached him, he let the beam go and swept her into his arms, backing into the hallway as quickly as he could. Several chunks of ceiling rained down on them, and she shrank against him with a fearful scream. Hunching around her to protect her as much as he could, he hurried from the collapsing building, maneuvering around upended furniture and sections of the roof that were hailing down on him at an alarming rate.
Each chunk was larger and heavier than the last, and by the time he burst from the side door, every inch of him felt as if it had been bruised in a fight. But Bailey was in one piece, and that was all that mattered. Josh didn’t stop to check her over but ran straight to the church, where an anxious Heather was waiting just inside the entryway doors, her worried gaze fixed on the ruined day care center.
When she saw them coming, she bolted down the front steps and into the driving rain. She met them in the middle of Main Street, oblivious to the storm still raging around her. Without a word, Josh handed Bailey over to her, watching as they hugged and cried in a touching reunion that might have ended so differently.
“My arm hurts,” Bailey said as they made their way up the steps to where it was warm and dry. It struck Josh that the small white chapel was serving as a sanctuary for all of them, and he looked up with a grateful smile. He was too exhausted to do more than that, but he was sure that God knew what he meant.
“Doc Sheppard can take care of that,” Josh assured her, nodding to where the kind man was tending to one of her classmates. “And if you’re brave, he’ll give you your choice of lollipops.”
“I like grape.”
“Yeah? Me, too.” Grinning at the resilient child, he shifted his gaze to Heather, whose face was beginning to regain some of its color. “How ’bout