Sheltered by the Millionaire. Catherine Mann

broken matches, the thick wooden beams cracked and splintered so that the main entrance was completely blocked.

      Megan’s heart hit her shoes.

      Before she could find her breath, Whit had already jogged to her side of the truck and opened the door.

      “No,” she choked out a whisper. She fell into his arms, her legs weak with fear, her whole body stiff from the accident. Pain shot up her wrists where, she realized, she had burns from the airbag deployment.

      None of it mattered. Her eyes focused on that fallen roof. The blocked door. More acid churned in her stomach as she thought of her little girl stuck inside.

      “I’ve got you,” Whit reassured her, rain dripping from the brim of his Stetson.

      “I’m okay. You can let go. I have to find my daughter.”

      “And I’m going to help you do that. I have construction experience and we need to be careful our help doesn’t cause more damage.”

      No wonder the other parents weren’t tearing apart the fallen debris to get inside.

      “Of course, you’re right.” Hands quaking, she pressed a palm to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly.”

      “That’s understandable. We’ll get to your daughter soon. You have my word.”

      Whit led her past the debris of the front porch, then around to the side, where the swing sets were uprooted, the jungle gym twisted into a macabre new shape. Painted Halloween pumpkins had scattered and burst. He called out to the handful of people picking at the lumber on the porch, offering advice as he continued to lead Megan around to the back of the building. The gaggle of frantic parents listened without argument, desperate.

      She couldn’t imagine a world without her daughter.

      In her first trimester, she’d planned to give her baby up for adoption. She’d gotten the paperwork from a local adoption agency. Then she’d felt the flutter of life inside her and she’d torn up the paperwork. From that point on, she’d opted for taking life one day at a time. The moment when she’d seen her daughter’s newborn face with bright eyes staring trustingly up at her, she’d lost her heart totally.

      Evie was four years old now, those first sprigs of red hair having grown into precious corkscrew curls. And Megan had a rewarding job that also paid the bills and supported her daughter. It hadn’t been easy by any stretch, but she’d managed. Until today.

      Whit guided her to the back of the building, which was blessedly undamaged. The back door was intact. Secure. Safe. She’d been right to come with him. She would have dived straight into the porch rubble rather than thinking to check....

      Megan yanked out of Whit’s grip and pounded on the door. Through the pane she could see the kids lined up on the floor with their teachers. No one seemed in a panic.

      The day care supervisor pulled the door open.

      “Sue Ellen,” Megan clasped her hand, looking around her to catch sight of her daughter. “Where’s Evie?”

      “She’s okay.” The silver-haired supervisor wearing a smock covered in finger paints and dust patted Megan’s hand. The older woman seemed calm, in control, when she must be shaking in her sensible white sneakers. “She’s with a teacher’s assistant and three other students. They were on their way to the kitchen when the tornado sirens went off. So she’s at the other end of the building.”

      Sue Ellen paused and Megan’s heart tripped over itself. “What are you not telling me?”

      “There’s a beam from the roof blocking her from coming out. But she’s fine. The assistant is keeping the kids talking and calm.”

      Megan pressed a hand to her chest. “Near the porch? The collapsed roof?”

      Whit gripped her shoulder. “I’ve got it.”

      Without another word, he raced down the corridor. Megan followed, dimly registering that he’d clasped her hand. And she didn’t pull away from the comfort. They finally stopped short at a blocked hall, the emergency lighting illuminating the passageway beyond the crisscross of broken beams and cracked plaster. Dust made the image hazy, almost surreal. The teacher’s assistant sat beside the row of students, Evie on the end, her bright red curls as unmistakable as the mismatched orange and purple outfit she’d insisted on wearing this morning because the colors reminded her Halloween was coming.

      “Evie?” Megan shouted. “Evie, honey, it’s Mommy.”

      “Mommy?” her daughter answered faintly, a warble in her voice. “I wanna go home.”

      Whit angled past Megan and crouched down to assess the crisscross of boards, cracked drywall and ceiling tiles. ‘Stand back, kids, while I clear a path through.”

      The teacher’s assistant guided them all a few feet away and wrapped her arms around them protectively as fresh dust showered down. With measured precision, Whit moved boards aside, his muscles bulging as he hefted aside plank after plank with an ease Megan envied until finally he’d cleared a pathway big enough for people to crawl through. Evie’s freckled face peeked from the cluster of kids, her nose scrunched and sweet cherub smile beaming. She appeared unharmed.

      Relief made Megan’s legs weak. Whit’s palm slid along her waist for a steadying second before he reached into the two-foot opening, arms outstretched. “Evie, I’m a friend of your mommy’s here to help you. Can I lift you through here?”

      Megan nodded, holding back the tears that were welling up fast. “Go to Mr. Whit, honey.”

      Evie raised her arms and Whit hauled her up and free, cradling her to his chest in broad, gentle hands. Megan took in every inch of her daughter, seeing plenty of dirt but nothing more than a little tear of one sleeve of her Disney princess shirt, revealing a tiny scrape. Somehow she’d come through the whole ordeal safely.

      Once they reached the bottom of the rubble, Whit passed Evie to her mother. “Here ya go, kiddo.”

      Evie melted against Megan with one of those shuddering sighs of relief that relayed more than tears how frightened she had been. Evie wrapped her tiny arms around Megan’s neck and held on tightly like a spider monkey, and it was Megan’s turn to feel the shudder of relief so strong she nearly fell to her knees.

      Thank you, thank you, thank you, God. Her baby was safe.

      “You’re okay, sweetie?”

      “I’m fine, Mommy. The t’naydo came and I was a very brave girl. I did just what Miss Vicky told me to do. I sat under the stairs and hugged my knees tight with one arm and I held my friend Caitlyn’s hand ’cause she was scared.”

      “You did well, Evie, I’m so proud of you.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead, taking in the hint of her daughter’s favorite raspberry shampoo. “I love you so much.”

      “Love you, too, Mommy.” She squeezed hard, holding on tightly as Whit helped the other students through.

      Once the last child stepped free, Whit urged everyone to file away from the damaged part of the building. He led them down the hall to where Sue Ellen had gathered the children in the auditorium, playing music and passing out cookies and books to the students whose parents hadn’t arrived to pick them up. The school nurse made the rounds checking each child, dispensing Band-Aids when needed.

      Whit’s hand went to the small of Megan’s back again with an ease she didn’t have the energy to wonder about right now.

      “Megan, you should see the nurse about your scratches from the accident. The air bag has left some burns that could use antiseptic too—”

      She shook her head. “I will later. For now she’s got her hands full with the children and they need her more.”

      Evie squirmed in her arms. “Can I get a cookie? I’m reallllly hungry.”

      “Of course,