His eyebrows lifted. "Remnants of a hurricane that the mountains in Puerto Rico broke up. Don't you pay attention to the weather?"
With a shrug, she sighed. "No. The news is boring, and someone usually mentions a hurricane. Besides, it's hot and sunny in Florida every day."
He stared at her, then shook his head and found the silverware. "My oranges need the water."
Need was a word she'd not use near Colt. She sipped her juice and then placed the glass on the table. "So it's a bad rain today. I understand. I'm up for any inside games that Clara wants to do."
Colt nodded as he slid into his seat.
Clara crossed her arms. Then she let them go and smiled. "Daddy, Vicki is prettier than Belle, and nicer. And I still think she's really my mommy."
Without a word, Colt gulped his orange juice and swallowed. Vicki stared at his Adam's apple. Then he tilted his head at his daughter. "Hey now, kiddo. Be nice. You've only met Belle twice, and both times we were in a hurry. Lay off until you get to know her. She'll be here in a few days."
With a scowl, Clara moved the fork and knife together to one side of her glass, with well-trained manners. "I don't want a stepmother. I want my mommy."
Vicki's heart raced. Clara had her mother, though she stayed silent. She'd missed so much of her daughter. Then Colt told them both, "I want to marry a woman who loves me."
Heroes like Colt deserved love.
Clara crossed her arms and argued with her dad. "You don't make sense. I don't need a stepmom when I just found my real mom."
Vicki refused to miss another moment. She set her jaw. "You're getting two women, not one, Clara. I'm not going anywhere now that I am here, and Colt has every right to marry Belle."
"So you are my mother." Clara's eyes brightened, like she'd won.
"Stop." Colt dropped the plate in front of their daughter. "Eat your breakfast and play nice. Vicki's my friend, but she's your nanny for the next few weeks. Then Belle will be your stepmother, and everything will be fine."
Clara flashed Vicki that devilish smile.
Vicki said, "Tell your dad that you love him."
Clara's mouth opened, but she did as she was asked. "I love you, Daddy."
Vicki's heart grew warm in her chest. She sat here and wondered if this was what a real family was like. If so, she approved.
#
A bolt of lightning shot in the ominous sky. Then the wind played with her hair. The hurricane remnants were more like an oncoming major storm.
Vicki wiped her hands on her skirt, then helped her daughter off the swing. Raindrops pelted them, but she held Clara's hand and ushered her inside the ranch. The storm would be bad soon. As they neared the door, Vicki hoped Colt was home. She led them into the house. As she closed the porch door, thunder boomed in the air, and they jumped up the last step.
Clara's face went white.
Vicki reached down and brushed her wet hair as she told Clara, "Let's check the weather online, sweetheart."
"Dad said rain."
"He did. So far, he's right." Vicki's gut said more. She stayed quiet and unlocked the door to the house. The wind raced, and rattled the door open in a gust of wind.
Something was definitely off. Living in the summer of Florida, the storms could be torrential and fast and powerful. But a microburst of wind mixed with the warm waters of the ocean, and a hurricane could restrengthen to a full-blown storm with the right ocean temperatures in the gulf. Vicki led Clara to the living area and away from all windows.
Clara shook her head then took off in a run down the hall. Vicki followed, and Clara rushed straight to her bedroom. Vicki stayed on her heels and asked as the girl opened her closet, "What's happening?"
The lights flickered. Clara she crawled further into her closet. "I want to get something. Give me a few minutes."
"Okay." They were at her home, but goosebumps grew on Vicki's arms. Right now it was only rain. From the door, Vicki called out to Clara's feet, which were all she could see. "I'm checking the computer for the storm. I'll need a minute."
Clara crawled out and then sat on the floor with a doll.
Vicki told her stiff shoulders to relax as she walked into the living area and grabbed her phone in her bag.
With her phone in hand, she flew toward Clara but waited in the hall outside her baby girl's room. Clara had settled on the floor with a few dolls and played silently. Vicki's breath hitched for a few seconds as she stared at her little girl. Colt's house was built to code to withstand a hurricane after Andrew, yet Vicki's skin felt electric. She glanced at her phone, clicked a few places to get to the weather, and inhaled as she read exactly what she'd feared. The storm had grown into a category five hurricane. In her life she had never lived through one that strong. Andrew had wiped out Homestead back in 1992, and she was in the epicenter of that destruction.
No. Superstition said a hurricane didn't hit the same place twice. Vicki knew she held on to hogwash theories, but it was all she had.
She stepped in the room and almost tripped over a doll. The toy squeaked, and she struggled to keep her balance. Then she stared at the windows. They were in serious danger. She rushed out the door and called into Clara's room, "Sweetheart, I'm going to go outside and close the shutters. Stay here."
"Okay." Without a blink at her, Clara moved her doll like they were having a private conversation.
Where was Colt? Did he know the storm had changed? She grabbed her purse and dialed his number. No one answered.
Vicki gulped and ran outside, and the wind hit her so hard in the face that the brutal force slapped her. She clenched her jaw and ran to the side of the house. The wind tossed her hair into her eyes and she couldn't see, but she reached for the shutters. Then she accidentally bumped into a large, muscular shoulder.
The smell of oak trees and oranges surrounded her as he blocked the wind. Colt's hands brushed her sides and held her steady. "What are you doing, woman?"
"Don't call me woman or princess."
"Now is not a good time."
Yeah, there was a storm. Next to him, she unlatched one of the hooks on the blinds. "You weren't anywhere I could see, and I needed to close the blinds. It's a category five."
"It can't get bigger now."
She wavered in her stance. "I'm scared."
"The center is supposed to be far north of here." He unhooked the other side and twisted the bottom of the shutter into the wall. She held it steady as best she could as he hooked the shutters closed. Once he finished, he yelled over the wind, "I'll finish and be inside soon. Go watch Clara."
At least the predictions didn't have them in the line of fire. "Do you have a generator?"
"Victoria Morgan is scared?"
"I already told you that." The wind blew at her back and knocked her into his arms again. "Do you, Colt?"
His chest warmed her backside, but then she lunged herself off him, and adjusted her stance as the wind pelted her.
He turned toward another window shutter. "It's a cat five, but hundreds of miles from here. Let's hope it stays that way."