13. Shattered Shelter #2
“Cassie!” he called again, and now I could see his face clearly despite the driving snow. His expression was pure panic, his fear cutting straight through the winter storm and my shock-induced numbness.
He reached me in seconds, dropping to his knees in the snow beside me. His hands were immediately on me—checking for injuries, brushing snow from my face, his touch warm and solid and wonderfully, perfectly real.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice tight with controlled worry. “Can you move? Talk to me, Cassie.”
“I'm okay,” I managed, though my voice sounded strange to my own ears. “I think I'm okay. The tree... it just...”
“I know,” he said, his hands still moving over me with gentle efficiency, checking for broken bones or bleeding. “I saw it fall. When I saw you sitting in the snow...”
His voice cracked slightly on the last words. I was vaguely aware I was sitting in a blizzard, soaked through, probably hypothermic, while my cottage lay in ruins. And Levi had come looking for me.
“How did you know?” I asked, letting him help me to my feet. My legs felt wobbly, but they held.
“Was already driving over. Heard the crash,” he said, supporting most of my weight without making it obvious. “Since there was an early out, I knew you’d be home.”
He wrapped his arm around me, solid and warm and reassuring, and began guiding me away from the wreckage. “Come on. We need to get you inside and warmed up. My place. Now.”
I let him lead me through the snow toward his truck—but I couldn't help looking back over my shoulder.
The tree had taken out most of the roof and part of the front wall.
I could see into my living room, where snow was already beginning to accumulate on my ruined furniture.
The bookshelf I'd been so proud of arranging was buried under branches and debris.
The kitchen window I'd looked through just this morning while drinking coffee was gone entirely.
“Don't,” Levi said gently, noticing my backward glance. “Don't look. Not tonight.”
He was right, of course. Looking wouldn't change anything, and it would only make the shock worse.
But it was hard not to look. That cottage had been the first place that had felt like mine in longer than I could remember.
I'd hung wind chimes on the porch and planted herbs in mismatched mugs.
I'd learned how to work the temperamental fireplace and discovered that the floorboards in the hallway squeaked in a cheerful sort of way.
Now it was gone. Not all of it, maybe, but enough. More than enough.
But at least I could see the top of Professor Fungi’s pointy hat sticking up on what remained of the front porch.
As if sensing my thoughts, Levi's arm tightened around me. “We'll figure it out,” he said quietly. “Whatever needs figuring, we'll handle it. But first, let's get you warm and dry and make sure you're really okay.”
His house appeared through the snow like something from a fairy tale—windows glowing with warm light, smoke rising from the chimney, looking solid, welcoming, and utterly safe. I'd been inside before, living next door for months, and right now, it looked like the most beautiful place on earth.
“Almost there,” Levi murmured, and I realized I was leaning on him more heavily than I'd thought. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and a strange, floaty feeling that suggested I might not be as uninjured as I'd claimed.
But we made it to his porch, and then through his front door, and suddenly I was standing in warmth and light, dripping snow onto his hardwood floors and trying to process the fact that my life had just changed completely in the span of about ten minutes.
Levi guided me to his couch and immediately began working on getting my wet coat off. His movements were gentle but efficient, and there was something profoundly comforting about letting him take care of me.
“Better?” he asked, wrapping a soft blanket around my shoulders.
I nodded, though I wasn't sure “better” was the right word. I was warmer, certainly. Drier. But my cottage was still destroyed, I was essentially homeless, and the storm outside was raging like something out of a Norse myth.
“I should call someone,” I said, though I wasn't sure who. “Insurance, maybe? Or...I don't know. Do people call people when trees fall on their houses?”
Levi sat down beside me on the couch and put his arm around me. His warmth was needed and comforting. “We'll make all the calls tomorrow,” he said. “When the storm passes and we can actually think straight. Tonight, let’s just stay warm, that's all that matters.”
He was right, of course. There was nothing to be done tonight anyway, not with the blizzard raging and no way to get help even if help were available. But sitting there on his couch, wrapped in his blanket, watching the fire crackle in his fireplace, I felt something I hadn't expected.
Was it love?
Not for the tree falling—that part was definitely not fun. But for Levi coming to find me.
And luck, for the fact that I hadn't been inside the cottage when the tree fell, because if I had been...
I shivered, and not from cold this time.
“Hey,” Levi said softly, noticing. “You're okay. That's what matters.”
I looked at him then, really looked. His hair was dusted with snow from his rescue mission, and there were worry lines around his eyes that I'd never noticed before.
He'd rushed out into a blizzard to find me, and now he was sitting here making sure I was okay instead of pointing out all the logical reasons why I should have stayed in town tonight or parked farther from the trees.
“Thank you,” I said, and my voice came out smaller than I'd intended. “For coming to find me. For... this.”
He smiled, and some of the worry lines softened. “You don't have to thank me, Cassie. This is what neighbors do.” He said, winking at me and hugging me closer.
But it felt like more than neighboring. It felt like something deeper. Something that had been building between us for months and was only now becoming clear in the warm light of his living room while the storm raged outside.
I’m still shaken, definitely, and probably facing some complicated logistics in the coming days. But with Levi by my side. I felt like everything was good, for now.
And I wasn't facing any of it alone.
That realization settled into my chest like warmth from the fireplace. Outside, the blizzard continued its assault on the world, but inside, wrapped in Levi's blanket with his arms around me and surrounded by his quiet strength, I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be.