Page 13 of Healing the Storm

“Cheyenne,” I called out, knocking a little louder. “Wake up.” I heard a shuffling on the other side of the door, followed by a scratching.

The dog, right.

I opened the door slightly, and the little black and white fuzzball took off sprinting, running through the cabin one full time before coming back to sit at my feet. I peered into the room, seeing a sleepy headed Cheyenne sitting up in bed, stretching her arms above her head.

“It’s still raining?” she greeted me as I stepped in, her eyes a little puffy.

But damn, was she beautiful with the messy mop of black hair.

“Yeah, it’s still raining. I don’t think we’re going to be good to leave anytime soon. That being said, I made breakfast, and there’s no power, so...”

“So what did you make?” She furrowed her brows, flipping back the covers to reveal long slender legs. Her shorts were bunched up around her inner thighs, and my mouth went dry at the reminder of just how sweet she tasted.

Fuck.

“Just pancakes. I had to use the stove, and I’m no Betty Crocker, but it’s better than nothing.”

“That might be debatable.” She laughed, scooting over to the edge of the bed and getting up. “I just really thought the rain would be over by now.”

“Me, too, but it’s not.” I tried to avoid staring at her loose breasts beneath her thin black spaghetti-strapped pajama top. “Also, I was wondering if you had checked your phone?”

“Uh, no,” she muttered, shuffling across the room to where her duffle bag was sitting in the corner. “But I can look now. I’m guessing you might want to use it?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” she mumbled, dropping to her knees to sift through the contents. “Ah, here it is.” Cheyenne pulled out an older generation iPhone, and clicked the lock button. She smiled as she held it out to me. “There’s still almost eighty percent. The service isn’t great—there’s only one bar, but you should still be able to get through.”

“Cool, thanks.” I took the phone from her hand, my fingers brushing hers. A jolt of familiar excitement coursed through my body. I cleared my throat. “I’ll be right back. Breakfast is on the table. Go ahead and feel free to eat.”

She nodded. “I’m going to get dressed.”

Thank God.

There was no way in hell I could handle eating across from those perky free breasts that just seemed to bebeggingfor me to touch them. I forced a smile and slipped from the room, letting Takoda back in before closing the door. I clicked the unlock button on her phone, and a picture of herself and Takoda lit up the screen. A genuine smile tugged at my lips, noting just how happy she looked. I opened the phone, seeing that her home wallpaper was the same photo.

Clicking on the phone button, I pulled up the keypad and typed in my dad’s cell phone number. I knew Mom would be nearly inconsolable if I called her at the moment, so I opted for the saner parent. I held the phone to my ear, waiting as it rang.

Come on, Dad. Just answer the phone.

I knew that the number would be strange, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to do business out of state. It went to voicemail, though, and I quickly hit the redial button, trying him again.

“This is Sam Littleton,” his deep Texas drawl answered.

“Hey, Dad, it’s Wade.” I braced for his reaction.

“What the hell, Wade! Whereareyou? Your mom is worried sick, and she’s damn near called every agency in the county tryin’ to locate your ass. What happened? You alright?”

Ah, there’s the worry.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was headed down the old highway, and I came across a woman stuck on the side of the road. That massive tornado was coming through, so I took her over to the hunting cabin. We held up in the cellar, but both our vehicles are totaled.”

He let out a sigh on the other line. “Well, I’m just glad you’re alright. I knew you were heading back from the meeting with Easton, and I was worried you got caught. There’s so much flooding and wrecks that no one could tell us anything. Can’t even get to that side of the highway right now.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a mess. The cabin’s in good standing, though. We’re held up here. I figure we’ll leave when the weather clears.”

“You’re gonna be flooded on all sides right now.” Dad grimaced. “I can’t get a truck to you right now. We’re gonna have to wait until the rain stops, and then we might be able to cut across the Black Rose Creek on the north side of the ranch. That’s the only way I know to get to you. You’re right in the middle of the flood zone and where all the damage was sustained.”

“Yeah, I was worried about that,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead. “We might be able to make it on foot back to the ranch. It’d just be crossing that creek, but there’s the bridge down from the wildflower pasture.”

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