1109 Cowboy Way

9

Hadley

Thunder booms through my dreams, and I jump in bed, bringing the quilt up to my chest. I wait to figure out what's going on, and it doesn’t take long.

Rain. Shit. I slump into my bed and wish I could stay in, bundled up with a good book and listen to the rain drops play music on my tin roof, but I have so much to do. I sit up, my feet dangling from my bed as I stare out the big window in my bedroom. Rain is falling heavily, and thunder booms in the sky. I can hear the wind blowing the trees outside. One of the branches scratches at my window, and I take a mental note that those limbs need to be trimmed.

Lightning strikes, brightening the sky for a moment before making everything almost pitch black again. “And I have to go out in that.” For the first time since buying the place, I regret it. My body aches as exhaustion flows heavily through every inch of me. Even my nail beds feel tired.

I could have bought a cozy little place by a lake somewhere where all I would have to take care of was making sure to have the lawn mowed. But I’d gone and bought this place instead. I shake my head and the negative thoughts away. “I love my house,” I affirm out loud.

Because I do.

I love everything about it. From the amazing fruit trees, the sweetest animals, to the home itself. I even love the things that need to have work done like the porch swing in the front that squeaks like heck.

I quickly get up and change into a pair of ripped-up faded jeans that have seen better days, an old hoodie and boots before I rush outside. The moment I step out of the main house I wish I could head right back inside. It's pouring rain, and the wind is howling. I run out to the barn and see Grayson already working. He hasn’t heard me yet, and I take a teeny tiny moment to watch him. His hair is damp from the rain, and his shirt clings to his strong muscular body, not leaving anything to the imagination. Thunder strikes, and I yelp before I can observe any more of the man who has my head spinning. His eyes connect with mine, and he gives me a chin nod.

“Working on locking everything down,” he shares, and I nod, wiping the palms of my hands on my jeans. I watch as he just goes about doing what needs to get done, ignoring the way I ran out on him during dinner, and I’m thankful it doesn't have to be a thing.

“I’ll help.” I walk toward him when an alarm blares from his phone, and a siren sings from somewhere outside.

“Shit,” he curses, looking at his phone, and I frown, looking over my shoulder toward him as I secure a couple of saddles.

“What is it?”

“Weather alert,” he shares, but his brows are bunched up with concern.

“Does it say it's going to rain?” I tease as I start to relax when he shakes his head.

“Tornado,” he mutters, and my eyes go wide as fear strikes.

“Tor-tornado?” I stutter. “Those don’t happen here, do they?”

“Don’t worry, Hadley. It’s just a tornado watch.” He says that like it's supposed to somehow make me feel better.

“What's the difference?” I squeak, feeling a little lightheaded.

As if sensing my anxiety, he moves right over to me. There is a confidence in every step he takes until I’m within his reach. His hands go to my hips, and his dark chocolate brown eyes lock with mine.

“Breathe, baby,” he urges in such a sweet and calming tone I have no choice but to do what he asks. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you,” he vows, and I swear in that moment, I let myself float in the safety of his dark gaze.

“I just…” I shake my head. “I didn’t know that was a thing here in Oregon. I mean, you know, a place like Kansas, sure. They have a reputation. What with Dorothy and Toto. But Oregon?” His lips twitch at my silly ramblings, and he rests his forehead against mine. I love the way he has to lean down, how his huge body is almost a shield over mine against what's happening outside.

“They happen about once a year, honey. A tornado watch just means it’s a possibility,” he shares gently, and it's sweet of him. But somehow I feel like maybe he’s lying. Or downplaying what it means.

I step back from his arms and immediately regret it, but I’m too proud to go back into them.

“Possibility?” I repeat. That is just way too much for me. I start to pace back and forth, trying to breathe, but I can't seem to catch my breath. Not completely.

“Hadley.” He’s looking at me like I’m a scared animal, and I don’t blame him. I’m probably overreacting, but the only knowledge I have about tornadoes is what I've seen in movies.

The Wizard of Oz and Twister.

“Shit,” I curse as I look around the building. Everything in here could be a potential danger to us. “We shouldn’t be in a barn if we get hit.” I walk to him and grab his hand. “We have to go to the main house.”

“Hadley—”

“No, Grayson.” I shake my head. “It’s safer. Please come with me.”