Read Online Fortune's Cinderella by Karen Templeton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Templeton
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forced himself to walk out of the E.R. doors and across the parking lot to the Escalade…where he wolfed down his food so fast he barely remembered eating it.
But instead of following the others to their hotel, or stopping to pick up clothes that didn’t smell like a swamp, he drove back to the airport. Why, he wasn’t sure. To convince himself it hadn’t all been a bad dream? To come to terms with what had happened?
Maybe.
But as he drove the fifteen miles or so along a gently rolling road that stretched out to forever, underneath a clear blue sky that stretched even farther than that, he realized what he had to come to terms with was whoever he was now. Because, for good or ill, he sure wasn’t the same person he’d been a week ago.
Twenty-four hours ago.
He’d ignored What-the-hell? twinges, confusing and crazy, that had plagued him for the past few days—the bizarre whisperings that this was home. The more they’d persisted, the more firmly he’d shoved them into that dank, musty storeroom where he kept all the other maybes and somedays and when the time is rights.
Until a rogue tornado came along and ripped that storeroom all to hell and back, dumping all those somedays right smack in his face.
And with them, a pretty little gal whose raspy, wispy voice belied her steel core, whose determination to make her own somedays actually happen had shaken Scott far more than the storm.
Hell, up to that point he could have sworn he didn’t even believe in love, let alone love at first sight. And yet…
And yet.
Feeling like a car commercial stunt driver as the SUV navigated the choppy terrain, Scott noticed Tanner’s Jeep parked in front of the flight school building, then the man himself, walking the perimeter with his hands in his back pockets, scanning the damage.
Which was more extensive than Scott had at first realized. In fact, in the almost surrealistic stillness the whole scene reminded him of a war zone photograph.
At Scott’s approach, the other man offered him a nod and a grim smile befitting the bleak picture, the brim of his ball cap shadowing his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked mildly.
“Not sure. I think I simply needed…to see.”
Tanner looked away. “I heard Sherri didn’t make it.”
“The flight attendant?” Tanner nodded. “Did you know her well?”
“Not really, no. I mean, we crossed paths maybe a couple times a month. Still. It’s hard to take in, you know?”
“Yeah.”
Tanner toed a small pile of crumbled, waterlogged masonry. Overhead a buzzard circled, hopeful and eerily graceful, like something out of a bad horror film. “How’s your…family?”
“Doing okay. Dad’s determined to leave tomorrow.”
That got a short, dry laugh. “Yeah, your father struck me as the kind of man who wouldn’t let a little thing like a tornado disrupt his plans. No wonder Jordana—” He stopped, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. By the way, I spotted some luggage in the ruins.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Figured you might want it. Couple of carry-ons, one larger bag. They’re in my car. Would’ve brought it back to the hospital, but now you’ve saved me the trouble. Might be more,” he said, leading Scott back to where he was parked, “but that’s what I could get to.” He helped Scott tote the bags back to the rental, then stuck out his hand to firmly shake Scott’s.
“Y’all have a safe trip,” he said, then strode back to his own vehicle, and Scott took a deep breath, a breath full of clean, sweet Texas country air, and simply…let go, giving in to something far more powerful than his own will.
Or even, he thought with a wry smile as he climbed back behind the wheel, his father’s.
It always surprised Christina, on the rare occasions when she saw her mother, how disconnected they were. Like they weren’t related at all. And frankly she wasn’t even sure why she’d called Sandra, told her what had happened. She was
But instead of following the others to their hotel, or stopping to pick up clothes that didn’t smell like a swamp, he drove back to the airport. Why, he wasn’t sure. To convince himself it hadn’t all been a bad dream? To come to terms with what had happened?
Maybe.
But as he drove the fifteen miles or so along a gently rolling road that stretched out to forever, underneath a clear blue sky that stretched even farther than that, he realized what he had to come to terms with was whoever he was now. Because, for good or ill, he sure wasn’t the same person he’d been a week ago.
Twenty-four hours ago.
He’d ignored What-the-hell? twinges, confusing and crazy, that had plagued him for the past few days—the bizarre whisperings that this was home. The more they’d persisted, the more firmly he’d shoved them into that dank, musty storeroom where he kept all the other maybes and somedays and when the time is rights.
Until a rogue tornado came along and ripped that storeroom all to hell and back, dumping all those somedays right smack in his face.
And with them, a pretty little gal whose raspy, wispy voice belied her steel core, whose determination to make her own somedays actually happen had shaken Scott far more than the storm.
Hell, up to that point he could have sworn he didn’t even believe in love, let alone love at first sight. And yet…
And yet.
Feeling like a car commercial stunt driver as the SUV navigated the choppy terrain, Scott noticed Tanner’s Jeep parked in front of the flight school building, then the man himself, walking the perimeter with his hands in his back pockets, scanning the damage.
Which was more extensive than Scott had at first realized. In fact, in the almost surrealistic stillness the whole scene reminded him of a war zone photograph.
At Scott’s approach, the other man offered him a nod and a grim smile befitting the bleak picture, the brim of his ball cap shadowing his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked mildly.
“Not sure. I think I simply needed…to see.”
Tanner looked away. “I heard Sherri didn’t make it.”
“The flight attendant?” Tanner nodded. “Did you know her well?”
“Not really, no. I mean, we crossed paths maybe a couple times a month. Still. It’s hard to take in, you know?”
“Yeah.”
Tanner toed a small pile of crumbled, waterlogged masonry. Overhead a buzzard circled, hopeful and eerily graceful, like something out of a bad horror film. “How’s your…family?”
“Doing okay. Dad’s determined to leave tomorrow.”
That got a short, dry laugh. “Yeah, your father struck me as the kind of man who wouldn’t let a little thing like a tornado disrupt his plans. No wonder Jordana—” He stopped, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. By the way, I spotted some luggage in the ruins.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Figured you might want it. Couple of carry-ons, one larger bag. They’re in my car. Would’ve brought it back to the hospital, but now you’ve saved me the trouble. Might be more,” he said, leading Scott back to where he was parked, “but that’s what I could get to.” He helped Scott tote the bags back to the rental, then stuck out his hand to firmly shake Scott’s.
“Y’all have a safe trip,” he said, then strode back to his own vehicle, and Scott took a deep breath, a breath full of clean, sweet Texas country air, and simply…let go, giving in to something far more powerful than his own will.
Or even, he thought with a wry smile as he climbed back behind the wheel, his father’s.
It always surprised Christina, on the rare occasions when she saw her mother, how disconnected they were. Like they weren’t related at all. And frankly she wasn’t even sure why she’d called Sandra, told her what had happened. She was
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