Ruth peeked around the corner, her chubby black and white dog in one hand and her half empty wine glass in another.  Disbelief skittered across her sixty-two-year-old face.  “Uh-uh.  I’m not getting in there.”

Allie glared at her neighbor and gritted her teeth, determined to make woman see sense.  “We’re not arguing about this, Ruth.  Get in the tub.”

Kapow.  Lightning streaked across the sky as thunder simultaneously shook the old windows in Allie’s home.  Ruth jumped, almost dropping her dog, but kept a firm grasp on her wine.

Allie barked, “Now!”

Ruth stood frozen, taken aback by Allie’s uncharacteristic bossiness.  “This is a very unattractive side to your personality, Allie Chambers.” 

She grudgingly climbed inside the small claw foot tub.  Her customary mumu billowed around her, filling the tub with red and white Hawaiian print.  Butch, her beloved Boston Terrier, sat on her ample lap.  He, at least, had the good sense to shake with fear. 

Allie climbed on the bathroom stool and peeked out the window.  The sky was a telltale dark green.  Full clouds moved slowly and sporadically, first east, then north, then west.  Quarter-sized hail clinked against the window and bounced off the roof, layering the yard in white icy pebbles. 

Hurrying out the bathroom door, she ordered, “Stay put.”

With her heart pounding in her chest, Allie closed the blinds in the living room.  She’d been through plenty of Texas storms, but everything inside her told her this one was different. 

She ran to the guest bedroom and pulled the brand new twin mattress off the refurbished antique frame, leaving a trail of bed linens behind her.  After lugging the mattress to the bathroom, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it to catch her breath. 

The ominous wail of a tornado siren broke the silence in the small bathroom.  Ruth’s wide eyes met Allie’s, belatedly realizing what Allie already knew. 

A tornado was coming. 

                    ***

The hours following the tornado were overwhelming.  Miraculously, Allie’s house was still standing, but with minor damage:  several tiles of her roof had been transported to parts unknown and her month-old glass French doors were shattered. 

        Allie stood in her front yard and assessed the results of two-hundred-mile-per-hour-winds.  The absence of car engines, birds, and children created an eerie calm.  The sun shone unbelievably bright, showcasing destruction Allie had never seen before.   

Ruth crossed the lawn to evaluate the damage to her own house which, thankfully, appeared minimal.  Someone’s porch railing floated in the large koi pond in her front yard and the lawn chair that normally sat on her porch hung upside down in a tree across the street. 

        Neighbors cautiously exited the safety of their cellars.  Some wandered out of their homes, having unfolded from tubs covered with mattresses, much like Ruth and Allie had.  Their picturesque street looked like a war zone. 

Tears stung Allie’s eyes as she counted the houses that were completely destroyed.  One, two, three… Even more remarkable were the homes, like hers, that were basically untouched.  The tornado had reached down to pluck certain homes up and completely bypassed others.  How could she have been so lucky? 

        Allie walked across the street in a daze, carefully sidestepping a barbecue pit, a tangled swing set, and a diving board. 

        “Martha, Jim?  Y’all okay over there?” Allie called out to the elderly couple across the street.  The Stykes had lived on Ellis Street since the day they were married over fifty years ago.        “We’re fine, Allie.  Are you okay?” 

Allie, relieved they were fine, gave a thumbs-up.  “I’m going to check on everyone else.  Y’all stay put until I come back, okay?” 

        Martha and Jim nodded, pale-faced, still holding on to each other.  Allie was sure they rode out the storm just like that, wrapped in each other’s arms.

        Taking a deep breath before continuing, Allie walked to the small two-bedroom home next door to Martha and Jim.  Tentatively, she called, “Amber?  Emily?”

        Silence.  Allie called their names again, this time louder, the panic settling in the pit of her stomach.  The front door had been ripped from the door frame and there was no glass left in the window.  The sunlight shone through the holes in the roof, spotlighting a living room littered with debris. 

        “Amber!  Emily!”  Fear shook Allie’s voice.  She spotted the cellar doors and ran to tear them open.  “Amber, are you in there?”

        “We’re here, Allie!” Relief washed through Allie as she helped her friend’s four-year-old daughter, Emily, climb out of the cellar and hugged her tight.  “It’s okay now, honey.  The storm’s over.”

 Allie’s best friend, Amber, absorbed the devastation around them. “Holy moly,” she whispered.

        “It’s okay, Amber.  We’re all okay.  See?  You’re fine, Emily’s fine.  That’s all that matters.”  Allie spoke with a calmness she didn’t feel but knew was necessary.  Realizing that she might break down herself if she didn’t get busy, Allie prodded her friend, “Come on, let’s check on everyone else.”

        Within an hour, Allie stood at the center of a large group of neighbors.  All eyes were on her, begging her for guidance she didn’t know how to give. 

“When will we get help?”

“Where will we live?”

“When will the electricity come back on?”

“Can we drink the water?”

        Allie held her hands up to silence the barrage of questions.  When the group quieted, she spoke as loudly as possible, straining her voice to be heard.  “I know you’re worried.  So am I.”  Her tired arms dropped to her sides and she let out a deep breath before continuing.  “I don’t know what happens next, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

        “If you don’t know, who does?  You’re our social worker, Allie.”  Coach Blue bellowed from the edge of the group.  He’d been retired for more than a decade, but he still wore Lancaster t-shirts with athletic shorts every day.  The only thing missing was his whistle. 

        “I know, Coach, and I wish I had more answers for you, but right now, I don’t.  Until we learn more, you need to make sure you have a safe place to stay.  If your home isn’t safe to live in at the moment, maybe you can stay with a neighbor, relatives, or friends here in Lancaster or another nearby town.”

        Without hesitation, the group accepted Allie’s suggestion and neighbors could be heard offering their homes to those who needed a place to stay.  It was that kind of generosity that had kept her back to Lancaster after her father passed away. 

        “Allie!”  When she turned to answer, she stood face-to-face with the infamous Perry Tucker, a reporter for KRKK in nearby Austin.  She’d dealt with him once before, when he was covering a high-profile child abuse case she’d investigated.  As far as Allie was concerned, he was a scum-sucking, good-for-nothing leech. 

        Without answering him, Allie raised her eyebrows in question. 

        “This is great,” he laughed.   People within hearing distance turned to glare at the moron dumb enough to say such a thing.  But it was wasted energy, because Perry’s pasty face was alive with amusement. 

        Allie crossed her arms in front of her to keep from wringing the cretin’s neck.  “What are you talking about, Perry?”

        “Your name.  This couldn’t be any better if I’d planned it.  The producers are going to love it.”  Perry’s enthusiasm was about to earn him a punch in the mouth, if not from Allie, then Coach Blue, who now stood beside her protectively. 

        When Allie didn’t respond, Perry sighed dramatically.  “Tornado Allie.”

        “Only you could think of something so ridiculous,” Allie pivoted on her heel, prepared to make a rapid escape to the relative safety of her home.  Instead, she found herself staring down the lens of a television camera.

        Ruth tapped on Allie’s shoulder.  “You know, hon.  This might not be a bad idea.”

        Allie’s eyes widened in shock.  “Did you get clonked on the head when I wasn’t looking?”

        “Take a look around, Allie,” Ruth continued.  “We’re gonna need some help getting Lancaster back to normal.  Just make a statement for us.  For Lancaster.”

        Tension knotted Allie’s neck and shoulders, and she rolled her neck as she brainstormed a way out of this.  Before she could form a coherent argument, Coach slapped her on the back just like he had in high school before a important track meet. 

        “You can do it, Allie.  I believe in you.”

                            ***

“We need your help.  Lancaster is a small community with few resources.  We can rebuild but we can’t do it alone.”  The baby blues staring at Mack through the plasma screen were brimming with tears, pulling at a place deep in side him just like the last time he’d seen those eyes.

        He stood in front of the television, towel wrapped around his trim waist, speechless.   

Allie Chambers’ face filled the screen with the headline “Texas Tornado” splayed in the bottom right hand corner.  Briefly replacing Allie’s pleading eyes, scenes of destroyed homes and shocked now-homeless families flashed on the screen.  

        “Tell us what kind of help you need, Tornado Allie.” The hapless reporter took extra care saying her name, then paused for effect before the camera came back to Allie.    

        She ignored him and continued to look into the camera. “Our primary concern right now is housing.  Because of the extensive damage, we have only two shelters.  They’re both completely full.  We desperately need help repairing and rebuilding homes.” 

Eternally grateful for TiVO, Mack paused the newscast and studied Allie’s face.  His Allie.  In the ten years since he’d last seen her, she hadn’t changed a bit.  Completely devoid of makeup, her skin was still flawless, and shoulder length brown hair framed her delicate features.  She wore a grey Lancaster Lions t-shirt and a pale yellow baseball cap.  Even in high school, she’d dressed for comfort and practicality, the complete opposite of her peers, including Mack’s high school girlfriend, Brooke Jasper.  He reminded himself that Allie wasn’t his.  He’d had his chance and blown it.

Still, there had always been something mesmerizing about Allie.  Maybe it was because she’d never chased after him like the other girls.  His attraction to Allie had scared him.  When he was near her, he didn’t know what to say or how to act, something completely foreign to him.  Especially with girls.  He was a born flirt.  Wink here, dimple there.  But with Allie, it’d been different.  She hadn’t been playing hard to get, she simply wasn’t interested.  Except that one incredible, soul-shaking night…

Seeing her now brought back memories of their night together.  Her soft arms and legs entwined with his as they lay on a blanket near the lake shore, his feelings of protection and desire colliding into a powerful awakening within him.  At eighteen, those feelings had scared him shitless.  

Those same feelings rushed through him now, but he wasn’t a teenager running scared anymore.  He leaned over, grabbed the telephone from his nightstand, and punched in the numbers to his office.

“Thank you for calling Hudson Builders,” his secretary answered.

        “Connie, it’s me.” 

        “Running late again?” Connie teased.  She’d been his secretary for five years and was more like a mother than an assistant, complete with worrying and nagging.   

        “Something like that.  I need to leave town for a couple of weeks.  See what you can do to reschedule my meetings.  Anything we can’t push back I’ll handle by phone.”

        “Is everything okay?” A thread of alarm laced Connie’s raspy voice.

        “I’m fine.  I just heard a tornado hit Lancaster last night and they need some help building shelters and temporary housing.”

        “You’ve always been a sucker for a good cause.”  Connie’s voice resumed its lilting carefree tone.

        “Yeah, yeah, I know… but there’s more to it than that.”

“Is that right?  Do tell.”  

“Before my parents retired to the hill country, we actually lived in Lancaster.  They moved after I graduated from high school.”

        “Well, I can’t believe I never knew that.  You’ve been holding out on me, Mack.”

        Mack chuckled at the surprise in her voice. “A guy has to have some secrets.”       

“I’ll see what I can do.  When are you leaving?”

        Staring at the frozen image on his television screen, Mack answered, “As soon as I get packed.”  

        Five hours later, Mack drove his black four-wheel-drive truck past the twisted population sign for Lancaster, Texas.  His heart raced as he struggled to comprehend the destruction in his path.  Obstructions in the road forced him to drive over debris, through parking lots and once-pristine front yards.  How in the world did anyone survive this?

        Mack stopped several times to take pictures of the oddities surrounding him: a stainless steel kitchen sink wrapped around the trunk of a leafless tree; two long sheets of roofing tin hanging from a hundred-year-old live oak like mutant Christmas tinsel. 

        As if he’d never left, Mack drove to the small school complex.  The aging group of buildings stood tall amid the dust and dirt around it.  Unharmed cars were parked where space allowed, some side by side with a car turned upside down by the force of the tornado.  The scene was surreal, like nothing he’d ever seen. 

        Flooded with a sense of urgency, Mack parked his truck then walked toward the gym’s royal blue steel doors.  The soles of his one-of-a-kind Tony Llama boots crunched the shards of glass, plastic, and metal covering the parking lot.  The air was crisp, free of the typical summer humidity, underscoring Mother Nature’s unpredictability.

 Mack was shocked at what he found inside.  Instead of chaos, he found an amazing tranquility within the cinderblock building.  Friends and families awaited assistance, patiently playing cards or visiting as if they were attending a Fourth of July picnic.  A group of children played basketball on one end of the gym, while others read, played games, or chased each other amid occasional orders from their parents to calm down.  Despite the colossal damage to their homes, their businesses, their town, their very livelihood… the folks of Lancaster were happy.  Happy to be alive.

His eyes darted from one end to the other, searching for the real reason he’d returned.

                    ***

        Allie stood in the middle of what used to be a living room.  Broken glass, wood, and brick covered the patches of tan carpet still clinging to the foundation. 

        “I just can’t believe it,” Chase Anders ran a hand over his face. 

Allie had heard those same words from every man, woman, and child she’d spoken to in the last twenty-four hours.  No one was immune to the effects of the devastation.

Chase and Allie had gone to high school together, even attended the same college.  He was a successful lawyer – Lancaster’s only lawyer, in fact - but now he was homeless with a high maintenance wife and fraternal twin toddler sons. 

“What happens next, Allie?” Chase stood hand-in-hand with Cory, the more rambunctious twin.  Shy Matt nestled in his mother’s arms as she sifted through the debris for any sign of their belongings. 

        “It’s going to take some time for FEMA to respond.  And we aren’t the only town that was hit, so they’re going to be spread pretty thin.  The Red Cross is setting up at the high school as we speak.  I’d check in there first and get your name in the pot for assistance.  Do you have a place to stay?”

        “We’re staying with my sister and her family.  Their house was barely touched by the storm.”  Brooke Jasper-Anders answered for Chase, something she’d mastered years ago. 

“They’re one of the lucky ones.”  Allie nodded.

Even amid the wreckage of her home, wearing a rumpled shirt and faded jeans, Brooke’s classic beauty, long legs and blonde hair made Allie feel like a pale imitation of a woman.  Nothing had changed since high school.  Allie hated to admit she was still envious of Brooke’s popularity, confidence and the crowd of men who followed her every move. 

“How about you, Allie?  How’s your house?” Chase asked with the sincerity that made him such a well-liked and respected attorney. 

“Just some minor roof damage.”  Allie stopped herself from apologizing for faring so well.  She’d been wincing at that question all day, even though she knew she had no reason to feel guilty for surviving the storm’s wrath.  “You’re going to rebuild, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.  Can’t imagine living anywhere else.”  Chase answered quickly, decisively.

Brooke rolled her eyes.  “Heaven forbid we explore a life outside of Lancaster.”

“Life outside of Lancaster isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Brooke.”  After living in Austin for eight years, Allie had returned to Lancaster to care for her father.  She was at home here, helping the families she had known her entire life. 

“So you’ve said, Allie Cat.”  The words came out as a sneer, using the junior high nickname Allie despised. 

Get out of here before you say something you’ll regret, Allie told herself.

 “I’ve gotta run.  I promised to meet the Red Cross folks at noon.  You have my number if you need me for anything.”  With a quick wave to Chase and Brooke, Allie turned for her old Chevy truck.

“Take care of yourself, Allie,” Chase called, Brooke’s arm hanging on his waist possessively.  Allie hopped in her truck and sped off.  As she drove to the high school, she wondered how Chase lived with that mean-spirited bag of bones.

Allie parked in a vacant spot, then walked the short distance to the high school gym.  She surveyed the crowd of Lancaster citizens, old and young, who filled the bleachers and the gym floor, waiting for help from the Red Cross.  In typical Lancaster fashion, they were making the most of it.  The only thing missing from the scene was a barbecue pit and volleyball nets. 

Ruth waved to Allie from her perch on an out-of-place lawn chair situated directly in front of the Red Cross registration table.  Surrounded by people wearing faded jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers, Ruth stood out like a sore thumb.  Another colorful mumu, from her seemingly endless supply, covered her large frame.  A string of oversized white plastic beads hung down the front of her generous bosom and matching white bauble earrings dangled behind her shocking red hair. 

Grinning at her neighbor’s determination to be first in line, Allie walked over, her hands on her hips. 

“Now, Ruth, you didn’t cut in front of all of these other good people, did you?”

Ruth grunted her reply.  “Being sixty-two doesn’t have many perks, but cutting in line is one of them.  Ain’t no way this old woman can stand in line for hours.  Besides that, I’ve gotta get home to Butch.  You know how he gets when I’m gone.”

Ruth’s relationship with her Boston Terrier was hopelessly co-dependent. 

“Why are you registering, anyway?  I thought your house was okay.”  Allie eyed her long-time neighbor and friend suspiciously. 

“Well, there could be damage I don’t see.  Like hail damage to the roof.  That hail was the size of grapefruits, Allie!”

Maybe not grapefruits… but Allie couldn’t argue with her.  Hail had a nasty habit of destroying shingles, and Allie wondered if she should be in line for the same reason.  “You’ve got a point, Ruth.”

“Allie!” A deep, oddly-familiar voice called her name.  Looking up, Allie searched for the owner of the booming voice.  

“Allie.” The deep, masculine voice rumbled her name behind her ear, so close she could feel his warm breath tickling her neck.  With a will of its own, her body responded.

Ruth’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

When she turned to face the voice, Allie froze in place.  Of all the people she’d expected to see, it wasn’t Mack Hudson.

“What?  No hello?  No hug for an old friend?” Mack teased her, arms outstretched, inviting a hug. 

“Oh,” Allie stuttered, “of… of course.”  Allie reluctantly slid into Mack’s embrace and melted at his touch.  She’d spent the past day helping other people, forgetting about her own shock, her own trauma.  Being held so tenderly threatened to break through the strong front she’d put on since the tornado hit.  If he hadn’t held her up, she would have fallen to the ground. The warmth of his hug was like a healing balm to her battered soul.

What are you doing?  Allie Chambers doesn’t lean on anyone.  Especially not Mack Hudson. 

Pushing out of his arms, Allie studied Mack and stopped herself from swooning like a preteen.  “What in the world are you doing here?” Her voice came out too harsh.

“Is that how you welcome all of your volunteers?” Mack’s wicked smile lit up his face, dimples flashing his easy sexuality.  The man was insanely hot.

“You’re volunteering?  To do what?”  She instantly regretted the condescending tone in her voice.  But that was partly Mack’s fault.  He’d taught her not to trust him years ago. 

“Maybe I need to volunteer to teach you some manners.”  Mack turned his dimples on Ruth.  “Is she always this hospitable?”

Ruth blushed at the attention, another victim of Mack’s charm.  “Oh, just ignore Allie.  She always gets a little grumpy when she’s tired.  You know, Allie is our only social worker here in Lancaster.  She’s also my neighbor and she takes such good care of me.  If it wasn’t for her - ”

Allie held up her hand to stop Ruth from rattling on like a gushing grandmother.  “That’s enough.”  Facing Mack, she said, “You remember Ruth Sparrow, my neighbor.”

“Of course,” he said, reaching out to shake Ruth’s plump hand.  “How could I forget?  You taught me how to read in first grade.”

“Good to see you again, Mack,” Ruth cooed.  If Allie didn’t know any better, she’d swear the old woman was batting her clumpy eyelashes at him. 

“Will you excuse us?”  Mack took Allie’s arm and steered her away from Ruth’s scrutiny.  “Allie, I’m sorry I startled you. 

“Let me help.  Tell me what I can do.”

For starters, Allie thought, you can take the testosterone down a notch or two.  Desperate to get a grip on her traitorous hormones, which had suddenly sprung to life, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  She’d instructed her clients to use calming breathing techniques a million times.  So why the hell wasn’t it working?

“I’m sorry, Mack.  I’m just a little edgy.  I haven’t slept since… well, whenever it was.”  Allie offered an apologetic grin.  “I’m very happy to see you.”  Some parts more than others. 

“I saw you on the news and couldn’t stay in Dallas.  I had to help.”

Despite her unease at Mack’s sudden return, warmth filled Allie’s heart.  “Thank you.  We definitely need it.”

The intensity of his gaze nearly left Allie panting.  Don’t fall for it.

Instead, she nodded in reply. “What’s your specialty these days, Mr. Hudson?  As much as we might like the distraction, breaking girls’ hearts isn’t going to help us rebuild any faster.”

Mack stood motionless; a flash of regret crossed his face.  “I guess I deserve that.”  Sincere whiskey-brown eyes penetrated Allie and she heard a tornado siren in her mind scream a warning.

Put his no-good butt to work and go on about your business.

“I am glad you’re here, Mack.  Really.  It means a lot to me – to the community – that you’d return to help.  There are a whole lot more people leaving town than there are coming in.” 

“I’m glad to be here.”  Mack broke his gaze from Allie’s face and looked around the gym.  “I haven’t stepped foot in this gym since we graduated.  It looks exactly as I remembered it.” 

“Well, for now, it’s a shelter.”  Hands on hips, Allie looked Mack over openly.  “So tell me what you’re here to do.”  Besides distract me.  “No, wait.  Let me guess.” 

“Take your best shot.”  Mack posed the challenge with his thick masculine legs slightly apart, gloriously stretching his jeans across tight muscles.  The arms crossed in front of his chest emphasized the strength she’d felt in his embrace.   The sleeves were rolled up on his untucked black dress shirt, allowing a peek of the coarse hair that covered his arms.  He was still the best-looking man she’d ever laid eyes on.  Damn him.

“Doctor?”  Allie guessed.  Mack shook his head.

“Lawyer?”  Again, no.

“Animal Control Officer?” Allie teased.  “Wait, wait, wait!  I know!  You’re a sanitation worker.  We definitely need your help!”

“Very funny, cupcake.  I’m a builder.”

“Perfect,” she whispered.  Lancaster really needed him, but did she?  Even now, in the warm, crowded gym, desire threatened to break her waning sanity.

“Glad you think so,” Mack replied, amusement tipping the corner of his sexier-than-sin mouth.  “But before I get started, I need a place to stay.  Any suggestions?”

“You didn’t make reservations in Austin?  You had to know there wouldn’t be a place for you here.  We don’t even have space for the people who actually live here, Mack.” 

“I told you,” Mack said softly, his patience fading.  “I saw you on the news, packed, and drove over.  I didn’t have time to think about where I’d stay.” 

“You can stay at Allie’s place!” Ruth stood directly behind Allie, clapping her plump hands happily. 

“Your house made it through the storm okay?” Mack looked surprised.  No one was more surprised by that fact than Allie.

“Somehow, yes,” Allie winced for the hundredth time, trying to keep the guilt at bay.  “As for you,” she said, facing Ruth, “you stay out of this.” 

“Allie Chambers, you can not turn away a good friend who needs a place to stay.”  Ruth’s admonishing tone only further irritated Allie. 

        “Yeah,” Mack piped in.  “How would it look if the town’s only social worker refused to house one of the volunteers?”

        Allie stood between Ruth and Mack, knowing full well her resolve, her willpower and her self-imposed celibacy would be put to the test if he stayed with her.  I’m doomed, she thought, then looked Mack square in the eyes.  “Fine.  But I’m not going to feed you and do your laundry. I’ve got too much work to do. Think of my place as a bed and breakfast… without the breakfast.”

        “Now, how can I say no to that?” With a wink to Allie, Mack walked to Ruth and gave her a high-five.