Chapter 18
Ty looked up the road, the sound of the wind catching his attention and sending adrenaline straight through him.
Every flight reflex in him told him to move, and Ty tugged harder on the horse’s rope. “Come on, girl,” he said, his voice crisp and urgent. “Let’s go.”
He got Wonder back into her stall at the same time his phone made a series of noises. One came from the Lone Star stable-wide alert system, but it was quickly drowned out by a blaring emergency alarm. Ty fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket as he heard other cowboys’ phones go off around him.
He scanned the messages quickly, trying to make sense of them. The National Weather Service had just issued a dust storm warning for a huge swath of the Panhandle, including Amarillo and Three Rivers. Ty’s first thought was Winnie, and then that she wasn’t at the clinic in Three Rivers that day.
The physical therapists had been taking turns going to the hospital for medical training in Amarillo, and today was Winnie’s day.
Ty’s brain moved through so many things so fast. He’d already eaten lunch, and he noted that the time was one forty-seven. So where would Winnie be right now?
Angel had said, We need all horses inside in the next ten minutes. Anyone doing anything different needs to stop and help bring horses in.
The sound around him felt muted, and of course, it was because he could only hear out of one ear. But voices called and boots ran.
Ty ducked around a corner and quickly tapped out a message to Winnie. Where are you? There’s a dust storm coming straight at Amarillo.
He reminded himself that she was from Oklahoma, and certainly they’d had dust storms there in the past. Ty hadn’t been in one for years.
In fact, the last major dust storm Ty could remember was from when he was a little boy, probably eight or nine.
He recalled the terror at seeing the sky go green, and then everything just being obliterated from sight.
His parents had sheltered them in their master bathroom, which only had one tiny window up near his father’s head.
Dust storms could cause a lot of damage, and though they weren’t quite as destructive as tornadoes, they came with high winds and abrasive particles blasting against surfaces, whether that be a house or someone’s face.
Ty pulled in a breath and held it, willing Winnie to answer him. She didn’t, and he turned his phone all the way up in both volume and vibration and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans so he would feel it when it did go off. Then he pushed away from the wall and went to do his job.
He worked with a man named Caldwell, and they put away one, two, three horses before a distant siren filled the air.
“What is that?” Caldwell asked, eyes narrowed and his gaze toward Amarillo in the distance.
Ty looked west-southwest toward the city too. Lone Star sat about ten miles away, but that sound made his blood turn cold. “That’s a tornado siren.”
“Dear God in heaven,” Caldwell whispered.
Another message blasted across their phones, and it was Angel again, giving three locations for sheltering.
We want everyone there as fast as possible. Leave whatever you’re doing. The news says the dust storm is mere minutes from Amarillo, which means it will be here right after that. We’ve assigned your teams to specific locations. Get there and check in. Team leads, we want a report in five minutes.
Ty looked at Caldwell, and they weren’t on the same team. Ty had to cross the ranch to the administration building where his team was supposed to meet, and he turned to do that.
Caldwell grabbed his arm. “Ty, you’ll never make it.”
“But I’m supposed to—”
“The admin building is a sure ten-minute walk on a good day,” he said, his voice firm and his expression fierce. “For a man with two good legs. You’re coming with me.”
He released Ty’s arm and started to march down the aisle at a pace that Ty could not keep up with. “My team is meeting in the North Stable,” he said. “And that’s like, two minutes away.”
Ty moved as quickly as he could, his body protesting, as today was Wednesday and tomorrow would be his day off. He worked, or went to classes, or spent time with Winnie from sunup until long after dark, and boy did he feel it by Wednesday.
His girlfriend’s beautiful face ran through his mind again, and he told himself that as soon as he reached the shelter checkpoint, he’d text her again.
His phone buzzed and chimed over and over, but he ignored it, pouring every ounce of concentration he had into stepping correctly, so he didn’t fall down.
That was the last thing he needed right now.
He rounded a corner and found Caldwell down at the end of another aisle, gesturing for him to keep coming. “You got it, buddy,” he said, and normally, Ty would hate the patronizing words, but right now he took them for what they were—encouragement.
He could do this. He just had to keep going.
He’d parked on this side of the North Stable too, and while he was sure Lone Star would have emergency supplies, he had a blanket and rations and a first-aid kit in his truck.
He had gotten there early that morning, and he’d parked right next to the door, so he felt confident he’d be able to get to his car even through the dust storm.
But right now, he hurried into a tiny tack room that was usually so much bigger when it wasn’t holding eleven grown men, all of whom wore grim expressions.
Most of them had their phones out and their thumbs flying, and Ty went with Caldwell to check in with his team lead, a man named Flint.
“I’ve got Ty Greene with me,” Caldwell said. “His check-in point was too far away for him to get to safely.”
Flint looked at Ty. “You’re on Terrance’s team, right, Ty?”
“Yes, sir,” Ty said.
“I’ll text him.” He did that, and Ty retreated to the corner of the room where he was able to lean against the wall and provide some relief to his hip. He also texted Terrance that he was in the North Stable, safe and accounted for, and then he turned his attention to Winnie.
Instead of texting, he tapped to call her, begging God that she would pick up.
“Hey,” Winnie said, and she sounded breathless. “I just got in my car.”
“You’re in your car?” Ty’s heart fell all the way to his boots and then rebounded strongly to the back of his throat. “Winnie, that’s not a good place.”
“They released us,” she said, her voice filled with panic. “They told us to go home.”
“Yeah, but you don’t live in Amarillo,” he said. “The dust storm’s sure to be there any second.”
“What should I do?” she asked. “Do you think I can outrun it?”
Ty scoffed. “No, sweetheart, you don’t outrun a dust storm.”
“Well, I don’t know what to do,” she said.
“Is there any way you can get back in the building?”
“I—” She yelped, and static shouted over the line. “I can’t, Ty. It’s here. I can’t see anything.”
“Just stay there,” he said. “Winnie, do you hear me? Don’t pull out. Don’t drive. You won’t be able to see.”
Her labored breathing came through the line, and she said, “No, I can’t see anything.”
“During a dust storm, they tell everyone to pull over and stay put,” he said. “You just have to stay right there in the parking lot,” and pray that the wind didn’t break a window.
Ty pressed his eyes closed to say that mental prayer, all while listening to the fear in his girlfriend’s breath.
He knew where the hospital was in Amarillo, as he’d been there many times in the past couple of years.
From Lone Star, it was probably a twenty-minute drive on a clear, sunny day, and he couldn’t believe he was contemplating leaving the shelter of the tack room and trying to make the drive into the dust storm to get to Winnie.
Every part of him wanted to do that, though, and he glanced around at all the other cowboys in the room with him. Surely they all had loved ones somewhere too who they wanted to get to, and help, and protect. It would do no good to get himself killed while he went to help Winnie.
A sense of deep resignation started in his gut and moved up through his chest. “Listen, I’m going to get there as soon as I can,” he said.
“Where are you?” Winnie asked, and it sounded like she had calmed down a little bit.
“I’m still at Lone Star, sweetheart,” he said. “They assigned us shelter stations. I’m in the North Stable, right where I park. I’m okay.”
“I’m okay too,” she said, though her voice broke on the last word.
It shattered Ty’s heart, and he realized in that moment just how deeply he felt about Winnie.
“Will you stay on the line with me?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“Tell me something.”
Ty realized that she needed a distraction. He wasn’t exactly loquacious and known for his storytelling capabilities, but he would do anything he could to ease Winnie’s worries.
“I don’t think I’ve told you about Marigold,” he said. “She’s my favorite horse at Courage Reins, and the one I always try to work with if I can. Now, we’re going riding there tomorrow, and I don’t want you tryin’ to steal her from me.”
Winnie half sobbed and half giggled, and a tiny smile touched Ty’s face.
He had no idea if he and Winnie would actually be able to ride at Courage Reigns tomorrow—not if the dust storm caused a lot of damage—but he launched into the story about the first time he’d worked with Marigold after his third surgery, doing everything he could to keep his voice steady and even.
It calmed him at the same time it did Winnie, and he’d just finished the story when the walls of the stable started to rumble. Cries of surprise filled the room, and Ty looked around at his coworkers, then up to the ceiling, as if it might cave in on them.
“Let’s say a prayer,” Flint said.
Ty relayed the message to Winnie. “I’m going to put you on speaker,” he said. “So you can hear the prayer too.”
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you, Ty.”
He moved into the circle and kept his phone in his hand as he joined the men he worked with. Flint stood in the center, and he spoke in a powerful voice as he said, “We’re going to be okay, men. We’ve got each other and good sense. Now, if we can get the Lord on our side, nothing can harm us.”
Murmurs of assent moved through the crowd, and Ty found himself nodding.
“I know you’ve got loved ones you’re worried about,” Flint said.
“And for now, we still have service, so we should be grateful for that.” He reached up and pulled his cowboy hat off his head.
Ty did the same, barely getting his down before Flint said, “Dear Lord, we come before Thee as Thy sons, knowing that we still have much to learn in our lives, and maybe something from this dust storm itself. But we pray for safety—for ourselves, our friends and family, all of our horses here, all of their owners, and all of our facilities. We know Thy hand is strong and constantly outstretched toward us, and we pray for this blessing in Thy name, amen.”
“Amen,” Ty said.
No one moved and no one spoke, and Ty had never felt such a powerful spirit in his life. He stood there, marveling in it, feeling the protective hand of God come over him, and a keen sense that, yes, God was aware of him, and always had been.
And yes, he was a son of God, whether he could walk well or had a limp, whether he could hear with both ears or just one.
Someone shifted, and the mood did as well. Ty backed up to lean against the wall again, and he glanced at his phone. It had gone dark.
He tapped quickly and said, “Winnie?” lifting it to his mouth.
But the call had disconnected.