Chapter 15 #2
Emily quietly got out of bed and opened the door. She followed the voices and rustling to the living room where she found Patrick—white as a ghost—frantically lacing up his boots, and Julia standing next to him, sobbing into her trembling hands.
He flung the door open, and rain blew in with the force of a bomb, debris littering the hardwood floor.
“I’m going!” Julia cried.
“No! Stay here.” His words were like daggers, a fire in them that terrified Emily. He shot out the door and into the storm.
Emily rushed over to Julia. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Julia looked up, terror in her wet, red eyes. “Winston’s out there!”
“What?!” Out of instinct, Emily turned to the window, but every one of them was boarded up. “Why?”
“I don’t know!” Julia paced, trembling, crying. She leaned over her knees and hung her head. “I got up to get a glass of water and the floor by the back door was soaking wet. His boots were gone. He’ll be swept away!”
“Patrick will find him,” Emily said, hoping her words would weave their way into the atmosphere and save Winston.
Even Patrick would have a hard time coming back safely, given what she’d seen of the storm just now.
The floor by the door was puddled, and there was so much debris, she could hardly see the floorboards.
“I’m so scared,” Julia said, before wailing into her hands once more.
Sienna and Blair came out of Winston’s room.
Emily could hardly get the words out through her fright. “Winston’s outside, and Patrick just went after him.”
Blair turned sharply to Sienna in alarm.
“Why is he outside?” Sienna asked.
“We don’t know,” Emily said.
Emily wasn’t sure what to do, so she put her arms around Julia and held her tight. Julia’s whole body shuddered.
“I can’t lose him. He’s my entire world,” she croaked. She grabbed Emily’s nightshirt in her fists. “I don’t know how long he’s been gone.”
“If anyone can find him, it’s Patrick,” Emily said, trying again to ease her mind.
The door flew open, and they jumped. But it was only the wind, sending more rain into the house. Julia rushed over to it and could hardly get it shut on her own, so Emily, Sienna, and Blair assisted her, the four of them shutting the door and pushing against it until it latched.
Emily didn’t want to allow the fear to overtake her, and she didn’t want to think about how utterly devastating it would be if anything happened to Winston.
They huddled together in the living room, all eyes on the front door.
The storm thundered behind it, every snap and crack putting them on edge.
Minutes went by. The door did not move, the knob remained still.
With every tick of the clock, Emily’s heart pounded, her fears overtaking her.
If Patrick got hurt, no one in that house was strong enough to help get him and Winston inside, nor would they be able to find them.
This wasn’t like him running out to find Sienna.
This was the middle of a tropical storm, with wind speeds that could knock down trees.
Emily closed her eyes and prayed over and over, begging God to save Patrick and Winston.
Eight minutes passed. Then ten. Then thirteen.
Suddenly, Patrick burst through the door, soaking wet, looking utterly exhausted, and holding Winston and an animal. The wind nearly knocked him off his feet, but he regained control, wobbling the precious cargo in his arms.
Julia screamed and ran over to them, throwing herself around them, sobs filling the room.
Emily pushed against the door to shut it and then locked it to keep it from blowing open again. Relief filled her and tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Why did you go outside?!” Julia shrieked, grabbing a soaking Winston and kissing his face.
“I heard a dog barking,” he said, crying.
Patrick set a black lab puppy on the floor. The dog shook the water from its fur and then cowered next to Patrick’s leg. The poor thing seemed utterly traumatized.
Julia visibly tried to pull herself together. She picked up Winston with trembling hands and squeezed him tightly. “You could’ve been swept away!”
“I didn’t know,” he cried. “I thought I could run out and back in again.”
She wiped his wet hair off his forehead. “God had you.” She closed her eyes and her chest filled with a long, slow breath. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
“No,” he whimpered. “It was scary, Mama.”
“I’ll bet.”
“We should get dried off,” Patrick said, his face expressionless. He scooped up the distressed little puppy and left the room.
Julia kept him in her line of vision as she cradled Winston, worry still etched on her face.
Patrick returned with the puppy swaddled in a towel. He handed another to Julia. She took it and rubbed Winston’s hair before wrapping him in it.
“Let’s go change you out of these wet clothes,” she said, still gripping the boy, carrying him down the hallway.
“We can wipe up the floor,” Emily offered.
Julia waved her off, her voice trailing back to them. “It’s okay. I don’t care about the floor.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Patrick said. From his jagged breaths, he was still getting himself together. He ran his hand through his soaking-wet hair. From the look on his face, he didn’t seem as if he was in any mood to talk to anyone.
“Well, you’ll probably want to get into dry clothes,” Sienna said. “We’ll leave you to it.” She patted Blair and Emily on the shoulders. “Let us know if you need anything.”
Emily nodded.
The three of them went back into the room and got in their respective beds.
No one spoke. Emily was still in shock from what she’d just witnessed.
Her eyes stung and her heart pounded. Things could’ve gone so terribly wrong tonight, but they hadn’t, thank God.
She sent up a little thank-you prayer and then tried to get back to sleep.