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Sheltered by the Millionaire(2)

By:Catherine Mann

       
           



       

She could only think of her child. "Thank you for doing this, Whit."

"We may have had our differences, but these are extraordinary  circumstances." He looked at her intensely for an instant as he set his  hat on the seat between them. "Your daughter will be fine. That day care  building may look small but it's rock solid, completely up to code. And  that's me speaking as a professional in property management."

"I understand that in my mind." Megan tapped her temple. "But in my  heart?" Her hand trembled as it fluttered to her chest. "The fears and  what-ifs can't be quieted."

"You're a mother. That's understandable." He shifted the truck into  four-wheel drive and accelerated out of the parking lot, crunching over  debris, cracked concrete and churned earth. "How did the shelter fare in  the storm?"

Her gut clenched all over again as she thought of all the precious  charges in her care. "I wasn't there. I'd already left to pick up Evie  when the warning siren went off. The kennel supervisor is in charge and I  trust him, completely, but telephone service is out."

She felt torn in two. But she had a stellar staff in place at the  shelter. They were trained to respond and rescue in disaster scenarios.  She'd just never expected to use that training to find her child.

Already the rain was easing, the storm passing as quickly as it had  hit. Such a brief time for so much change to happen. And there could be  worse waiting for her-

The worst.

Her chin trembled, tears of panic nearly choking her. "I was supposed  to take the whole afternoon off to go to a movie with Evie, but we had a  sick employee leave early and a mother dog in labor dumped off with  us... If I had kept my promise I would have been at the afternoon  matinee with Evie rather than copping out for a later show. God, she  must be so terrified-" She pressed her wrist to her mouth to hold back a  sob.

"You can't torture yourself with what-ifs," he said matter-of-factly.  "There was no way to see this coming and no way to know where it would  be safe. You were doing your job, supporting your child. Deep breaths.  Be calm for your kid."

She scrubbed her wrist under her eyes. "You're right. She'll be more frightened if she sees me freaking out."

Whit turned the corner onto the street for the Little Tots Daycare. The  one-story wooden cottage was still standing but had sustained  significant damage.

The aluminum roof was crunched like an accordion, folded in on the  wooden porch. Already other parents and a couple of volunteer emergency  responders were picking through the rubble. The porch supports had  fallen like broken matches, the thick wooden beams cracked and  splintered so that the main entrance was completely blocked.

Megan's heart hit her shoes.

Before she could find her breath, Whit had already jogged to her side of the truck and opened the door.

"No," she choked out a whisper. She fell into his arms, her legs weak  with fear, her whole body stiff from the accident. Pain shot up her  wrists where, she realized, she had burns from the airbag deployment.

None of it mattered. Her eyes focused on that fallen roof. The blocked  door. More acid churned in her stomach as she thought of her little girl  stuck inside.

"I've got you," Whit reassured her, rain dripping from the brim of his Stetson.

"I'm okay. You can let go. I have to find my daughter."

"And I'm going to help you do that. I have construction experience and  we need to be careful our help doesn't cause more damage."

No wonder the other parents weren't tearing apart the fallen debris to get inside.

"Of course, you're right." Hands quaking, she pressed a palm to her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm not thinking clearly."

"That's understandable. We'll get to your daughter soon. You have my word."

Whit led her past the debris of the front porch, then around to the  side, where the swing sets were uprooted, the jungle gym twisted into a  macabre new shape. Painted Halloween pumpkins had scattered and burst.  He called out to the handful of people picking at the lumber on the  porch, offering advice as he continued to lead Megan around to the back  of the building. The gaggle of frantic parents listened without  argument, desperate.                       
       
           



       

She couldn't imagine a world without her daughter.

In her first trimester, she'd planned to give her baby up for adoption.  She'd gotten the paperwork from a local adoption agency. Then she'd  felt the flutter of life inside her and she'd torn up the paperwork.  From that point on, she'd opted for taking life one day at a time. The  moment when she'd seen her daughter's newborn face with bright eyes  staring trustingly up at her, she'd lost her heart totally.

Evie was four years old now, those first sprigs of red hair having  grown into precious corkscrew curls. And Megan had a rewarding job that  also paid the bills and supported her daughter. It hadn't been easy by  any stretch, but she'd managed. Until today.

Whit guided her to the back of the building, which was blessedly  undamaged. The back door was intact. Secure. Safe. She'd been right to  come with him. She would have dived straight into the porch rubble  rather than thinking to check....

Megan yanked out of Whit's grip and pounded on the door. Through the  pane she could see the kids lined up on the floor with their teachers.  No one seemed in a panic.

The day care supervisor pulled the door open.

"Sue Ellen," Megan clasped her hand, looking around her to catch sight of her daughter. "Where's Evie?"

"She's okay." The silver-haired supervisor wearing a smock covered in  finger paints and dust patted Megan's hand. The older woman seemed calm,  in control, when she must be shaking in her sensible white sneakers.  "She's with a teacher's assistant and three other students. They were on  their way to the kitchen when the tornado sirens went off. So she's at  the other end of the building."

Sue Ellen paused and Megan's heart tripped over itself. "What are you not telling me?"

"There's a beam from the roof blocking her from coming out. But she's  fine. The assistant is keeping the kids talking and calm."

Megan pressed a hand to her chest. "Near the porch? The collapsed roof?"

Whit gripped her shoulder. "I've got it."

Without another word, he raced down the corridor. Megan followed, dimly  registering that he'd clasped her hand. And she didn't pull away from  the comfort. They finally stopped short at a blocked hall, the emergency  lighting illuminating the passageway beyond the crisscross of broken  beams and cracked plaster. Dust made the image hazy, almost surreal. The  teacher's assistant sat beside the row of students, Evie on the end,  her bright red curls as unmistakable as the mismatched orange and purple  outfit she'd insisted on wearing this morning because the colors  reminded her Halloween was coming.

"Evie?" Megan shouted. "Evie, honey, it's Mommy."

"Mommy?" her daughter answered faintly, a warble in her voice. "I wanna go home."

Whit angled past Megan and crouched down to assess the crisscross of  boards, cracked drywall and ceiling tiles. 'Stand back, kids, while I  clear a path through."

The teacher's assistant guided them all a few feet away and wrapped her  arms around them protectively as fresh dust showered down. With  measured precision, Whit moved boards aside, his muscles bulging as he  hefted aside plank after plank with an ease Megan envied until finally  he'd cleared a pathway big enough for people to crawl through. Evie's  freckled face peeked from the cluster of kids, her nose scrunched and  sweet cherub smile beaming. She appeared unharmed.

Relief made Megan's legs weak. Whit's palm slid along her waist for a  steadying second before he reached into the two-foot opening, arms  outstretched. "Evie, I'm a friend of your mommy's here to help you. Can I  lift you through here?"

Megan nodded, holding back the tears that were welling up fast. "Go to Mr. Whit, honey."

Evie raised her arms and Whit hauled her up and free, cradling her to  his chest in broad, gentle hands. Megan took in every inch of her  daughter, seeing plenty of dirt but nothing more than a little tear of  one sleeve of her Disney princess shirt, revealing a tiny scrape.  Somehow she'd come through the whole ordeal safely.

Once they reached the bottom of the rubble, Whit passed Evie to her mother. "Here ya go, kiddo."                       
       
           



       

Evie melted against Megan with one of those shuddering sighs of relief  that relayed more than tears how frightened she had been. Evie wrapped  her tiny arms around Megan's neck and held on tightly like a spider  monkey, and it was Megan's turn to feel the shudder of relief so strong  she nearly fell to her knees.