Turbulence (13 page)

Her tour of duty in Turning Point was supposed to be a mental vacation to clear her head, a time-out to finally relegate her relationship with Alex to the past so that she could look ahead and discover where she fit in her suddenly enlarged family. Although she liked the Barclays and knew that it wasn’t their fault that she and Lauren had been switched in their bassinets and raised by other people, sometimes Dana just wanted to wave a wand and make the nightmare disappear. To make her family just as boringly normal as everyone else’s, instead of fodder for the evening news.

No, instead of coming to terms with the events of the past year, Micky Flynn had blown into her life and given her something else to think about. One more issue to contemplate. One more decision to make.

Should she live for the moment or approach her next move with the same caution as her squad on a fire call?

When Micky accompanied her into the game room, he acted as jovial and as carefree as he had before he’d bared his soul. “Monopoly, anyone?” he asked.

As Dana watched him crowd around the table with the
boys, teasing and joking, she realized that she was
thinking
when she should be
feeling.
Right now, Micky made her feel special.

Wasn’t that what she wanted?

“D
O YOU WANT TO JOIN US
?”
Micky asked her as he divvied up the colored money. “You can be the thimble or the shoe.”

She might have known those tokens would be the last ones claimed by testosterone-laden players. “I suppose the ship and the car are taken.”

“First to go,” he agreed. “If you snooze, you lose. So are you in or out?”

“Out.” She enjoyed her spot in the beanbag chair too much to give it up. “Maybe I’ll catch round two.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. After this we’re playing poker. Aren’t we, guys?”

Each boy bobbed his head with excitement.

“No money, though,” Dana warned.

Micky appeared horrified. “We can’t play without the proper incentive.”

“No money,” she insisted. “You’ll have a lot of explaining to do if you finish this trip with all of the boys’ cash in your pocket.”

“Who said I was going to win? We might have some dandy poker players in this bunch.”

“Isn’t there a law about minors gambling in this state?”

“We’re not gambling. We’re
learning.
It’ll only be penny ante and I’ll provide the pennies.” He pointed to a bookshelf in the corner where a glass gallon jug rested in the shadows. “I have plenty.”

The jug was full of coins. “I’d say so. Your granddad’s winnings?”

“Absolutely. His and everyone else’s, too.” He grinned at her surprise. “They always pooled their pennies in that jug to use on their next poker night, which is what we’re going to do, aren’t we, boys?”

At their collective nods and enthusiastic smiles, he met Dana’s gaze. “See? No problem.”

Eddie pushed up his glasses. “Wow. Do you know how much money’s in there?”

“No.” Micky doled out the Monopoly money under the glow of the single camping lantern that he’d set on a pedestal for maximum effect. “But if you’re bored later, I’ll let you count it.”

The game began with the roll of the dice, leaving Dana to entertain herself. She didn’t mind. It was nice being an observer rather than a participant for a change, blending into the woodwork.

She hadn’t expected the safe room to resemble a den more than a storm cellar. Although Micky had said that his grandfather had set it up as his poker room, she’d expected to see supplies stacked against gray cement walls and a card table surrounded by a few metal folding chairs.

Instead the room had wainscoted walls and striped wall-paper, offset by oak trim. A brown plaid sofa and recliner occupied the corner opposite the bookshelf, and a round oak table, complete with matching chairs and a green lamp hanging over it, took center stage. The furniture appeared well-worn, which suggested that the room had been used often, either by choice or necessity. Perhaps both.

The large picture on the far wall couldn’t have been more appropriate. Card-playing, cigar-smoking dogs were sitting around a table with mugs of foamy beer at their elbows. She
smiled, finding it easy to imagine a group of crusty old Texas ranchers dealing cards and chewing on their stogies while intently studying the hands they’d been dealt.

All in all, it was the Taj Mahal of storm shelters.

“Do we just have the one lamp?” she asked.

“There’s another for anyone who takes a trip down the hall. Like I said earlier, we have enough replacement batteries to last about twenty-four hours. But don’t worry. We’ll ration ’em. When this one peters out, we’ll call it a night. Can’t do much else then but sleep, right?”

His intense glance, however, said the opposite. The heat in his gaze reminded her of exactly what activities
could
be successfully conducted under cover of darkness. Her entire body seemed to burst into flames, although the temperature in the room hadn’t changed.

Micky’s eye contact lingered like a soft caress, reminding her of the kiss he’d given her and in which she’d willingly participated. In her mind, she was transported back to that time and place to relive the moment. Wearing clothes that carried Micky’s scent only heightened the memory and made it as powerful as the actual experience.

If just remembering the incident made her knees weak, then it was only a matter of time before…

“We have a couple of hours until that happens, though,” Micky added.

Dana started, then realized he was referring to the lamp’s battery wearing out.

“Maybe the storm will have passed by then,” Dana said. And they could pack everyone in the plane and head to Beeville.

He cocked his head to listen. Although the fury was muted by the thick walls enclosing them, if anything, the storm had increased rather than diminished.

“Not a chance. We’re still in the build-up phase. Then we’ll get the backlash, which is more of the same.”

“For how long?”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll be down to heavy rains by morning.”

“More rain?” She’d hoped he would say the skies would clear and the sun would shine.

“Probably. Although in general, if the storm is a hurricane, most of the rain will fall near the coast and we won’t see as much. The weaker, tropical storms create heavy rainfall both on the coast and inland. Beeville received twenty-six inches over a four-day period in 1971.”

“But Damon is a hurricane, so we won’t have as much here, right?”

“Let’s hope not, but we’ll still see a good amount. Maybe not twenty-six inches, but it could be close.” He grinned as Pete helped himself to the box of crackers. “If we have to stay here for the entire time, I’m afraid the boys
will
start gnawing on the furniture.”

She couldn’t quite imagine what it would be like to spend four days in close proximity to Micky, especially if a single glance and a glimpse of a smile turned her into a marshmallow after being with him only a few hours.

“Do you know what we need?” she said impulsively. “We need s’mores. No camp-out is complete without them.”

Micky moved his cannon token six spaces. “Unless you found the supplies in the drug kit, we’re out of luck. But if you need chocolate, I have some.”

Music to her ears. “Chocolate? What kind?”

“Kisses.”

She froze, certain her mind was playing tricks on her. She’d just been thinking of his kiss a few minutes ago. “Excuse me?”

“Hershey’s Kisses,” he repeated with a twinkle in his eye,
as if he’d suspected where her thoughts had been drifting. “I found them in the freezer, courtesy of my sister. Who knows how long they’ve been there, though.”

“Chocolate is chocolate. A woman who needs her fix will take it any way she can get it.”

His eyes held an unholy gleam, as if he was willing to satisfy any craving she might have, but she gave him a warning glance that drifted toward the boys. He obviously understood her unspoken message because he simply grinned and motioned to the bag on one of the book shelves. “Help yourself.”

Dana squeezed past the group, careful not to jostle Josh, whose knee was propped and pillowed on an overturned wastepaper basket. “Any other takers?” she asked as she snagged a handful. “I’ll share.”

“None for me, thanks,” Micky answered as he passed out another payroll to Will. “I know better than to come between a woman and her chocolate. And anyway, I prefer chocolate bars. It’s too much work to unwrap each bite.”

Although he wore a cherubically innocent expression, she understood they weren’t just talking about chocolate.

“On the other hand,” he fixed his gaze on hers, “some things have to be sampled before a fellow can decide if they’re worth the extra effort. The problem comes when they’re so good that it’s hard to stop with just one.”

The fire in his eyes suggested that he’d like to repeat the kiss he’d enjoyed earlier. Heaven help her, but she did, too.

“Hey, Micky,” Will protested. “Are you gonna play or visit? It’s your turn.”

“Sorry.” He shot her a wry grin, then transferred his attention to the table and rolled the dice.

She smiled to herself. Their chaperones were definitely cramping Micky’s style.

Leaving the boys to their game, Dana glanced through the
reading material on the shelves. Zane Grey westerns and military adventure novels filled one shelf. On the bottom shelf stood two piles of magazines. Most dealt with airplanes or flying, although there were also a few
Victoria’s Secret
catalogs addressed to his sister.

It wasn’t quite bright enough to read, but she was too restless to sit, so she meandered over to Clay. His vital signs were due to be checked again, although she did it more for her own reassurance than anything. If Clay’s condition did deteriorate, there was little she could do, even if she had a direct line to a physician.

“Hi,” she said softly as she crouched beside him, noticing how much he and his son, Will, resembled each other. Both had light brown hair, although Clay’s showed distinct strands of gray.

He lowered the arm covering his forehead and managed a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Hi, yourself.”

“How’s the headache?”

“Bearable. Those pills you gave me helped.”

“I’m glad. You can have another dose in about an hour or so if you need it.”

A loud mixture of hoots and groans came from the game table as a gleeful Josh patted Will’s back. From the sound of things, the over-the-counter pain medication she’d given the two teenagers earlier was working, too.

“Sorry, bud,” Josh told Will. “That’s the luck of the dice.”

“Are they being too noisy for you?” she asked Clay. “I could ask them to keep quiet.”

“No,” he answered quickly. “They’re enjoying themselves, which is important under the circumstances. Hearing them laugh takes my mind off everything. I hate being an invalid.”

She heard his frustration, but most men didn’t handle sickness very well. “All things considered, you’re in good shape.”

“I’m not complaining about myself. I just wish the boys hadn’t gotten hurt.”

“Minor stuff,” she said. “Nothing that won’t heal in a few weeks or months. You, on the other hand, were extremely lucky.”

“How so?”

“Collisions with animals can be fatal.” She placed her fingers on his wrist and took his pulse. “I also noticed your air bag didn’t deploy.”

“I’d disconnected it,” he said sheepishly.

“Why?” It never ceased to amaze her how people purposely gambled with their safety.

“My reasons sound ridiculous now,” he admitted. “But at the time, it seemed like a good idea. Whenever I hit the curb too hard, the air bag went off. After the third incident, I disconnected it.”

“Then you’re
really
lucky. A lot of the victims I see never get a second chance.” She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm and took a reading.

“Believe me, I won’t do that with my next car, no matter how sensitive the air bag is.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She flashed her penlight in his eyes and was pleased that his pupils were reacting nearly normally.

“How am I doing?” he asked as she clicked it off and stuck it back in her shirt pocket.

“Your blood pressure is up a little, but the numbers aren’t anything terribly serious.”

“It runs high,” he admitted.

“Are you taking any medication?”

“No. At least, not yet. We’ll see what my doctor says on my next visit.”

“As long as you’re keeping tabs on it,” she said.

Another burst of groans and cheers came from the table. Josh had landed on Micky’s Park Place and been forced to pay a huge rent.

“He’s good with the boys, isn’t he?” Clay asked.

Dana watched the table dynamics and couldn’t agree more. It didn’t require any stretch of her imagination to see Micky tinkering on his plane with a younger version of himself as his assistant. “A good pilot, too.”

“I could tell. He did some kind of fancy flying in that wind. And getting us off the ground was nothing short of a miracle.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll have nightmares for weeks to come.” She grinned.

“Have you two worked together long?”

“I just arrived in Turning Point this morning. You were my first call.”

“How long are y’all staying?”

“As long as they need me,” she said. “I’d guess about a week.”

“If you’re ever free and can drive to Laredo, look me up. I’m in the phone book.”

“If I am, I will,” she promised, “but I have a feeling that the situation around here will keep me busy.”

“You’re probably right.”

Certain that he needed rest more than conversation, she rose. “Would you like anything? Water, maybe?”

“A drink would be nice.”

She filled a paper cup from one of the jugs that Micky had provided, then helped Clay sit up. As soon as he was finished his drink, she fluffed his pillow and positioned it under his head.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

“Yeah. Is it me, or is it hot in here?”

She’d noticed the same thing. “It’s hot. I’ll see if I can come up with something to help.”

Micky directed her to the roll of paper towels and she carefully wet a handful, then fashioned them in a compress and pressed it to Clay’s forehead. “How’s that?”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Sleep if you can,” she advised.

His face was pale. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I’ll check on you in a few hours.” She patted his arm as he closed his eyes, then stood behind Micky to watch the game.

“Who’s winning, or should I ask?” A string of houses and hotels ran along several sections of property and a pile of colored money lay in front of him.

“Don’t,” Josh said glumly. “If I land on one more of his hotels, I’m broke.”

“Me, too,” Eddie chimed in.

“Are you sure he isn’t cheating? Bankers are pretty shady characters.” She grinned at the boys then wiped the smile off her face when Micky turned around to frown at her.

“Cheat?” His affront was obvious. “Moi?”

“He’s not cheating,” Josh said. “I’ve been watching him. He’s just lucky.”

“A good businessman,” Micky corrected.

When it was Josh’s next turn, the teenager landed on Micky’s railroad. “I’m done,” he announced, throwing his hands in the air.

“Good. Then I can look at your knee again,” she said, bending over his leg. When she’d deemed it satisfactory, she straightened, then moved on to Will, who had also gone bankrupt on his last move.