Second Chance Romance (Southern Nights) Completed

Chapter 15

 “Second Chance Romance”

2012 Copyright All Rights Reserved

Chapter 15

     Complete and utter silence enveloped the house.  The roaring was finally gone, the glass shattering had stopped and the cross winds had stilled.  There was now a distinct chill to the air that hadn’t been there only moments before the storm struck.  Libby’s desperate cries were now reduced to mere hiccoughs.  The storm had passed- and they were alive. 

     Oliver sat back on his heels, closed his eyes and pulled Libby into this lap.  “Ssh,” he softly whispered at her ear.  He made an attempt to comfort the little girl by rocking her small frame back and forth in his arms.  His own legs felt like jelly and his hands still trembled while he tried desperately to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

     A twister.  In Hillsborough.  It was just a little too much for him to take in all at once.  But then the Sheriff instinct in him kicked in and his mind shifted into a different gear.  This was his town; what did it look like now?  Were there any injured?  Did people need to be rescued?  Where was Jade?

     That last question bothered him the most.  He had no idea where she was or if she was even okay.  All he knew was that he had Libby, and they were both alright.  Now, he needed to get out there and he needed to see what was left of his long time home.  He had to find Jade.

     Slowly, Oliver tried to stand up.  His back foot caught on a broken picture frame that was lying in the hallway floor and he stumbled.  Reaching out with one hand, he steadied himself against the wall.  Libby felt the dip and sway of Oliver's big body and began to whimper, burying  her head into the crook of Oliver’s neck.   

    Once again he held the little girl to his chest, rubbing his large hand up and down her small spine.  "It's alright munchkin, I've got you," he soothed.  "I'm not going to let anything hurt you sweetheart.  Nothing at all, okay?"

     He felt her salty tears as they dampened his skin and heard her child like sniffle.  He knew that she was scared; scared out of her mind but yet she was trying her best to brave for him.  After a stretch silenced she managed a weak, "O-tay," just barley loud enough for him to hear.  

     But he heard her and he was proud of her.  "Good, that's real good munchkin."  He rested his hand on the top of her head.  "Let's go see if we can find your mama."  Libby clung to Oliver for dear life.  He slowly made his way down the hall and had to stop at the door to the living room.  The room was in absolute shambles.  Debris littered the floor, windows had been blown out and  furniture had been tossed around like they were merely toys.  

     "My God," he breathed out, and laid the flat of his palm to his forehead.  He maneuvered Libby around and hitched her up higher on his waist.  It took a minute for him to take it all in, and even then he wasn't all to sure what to make of it.  So much destruction; so much left behind.  It was all so surreal.  He carefully picked his way through the room and stepped into the kitchen.  There, he was greeted with much of the same.  Disorder was evidenced everywhere but the roof, the walls, the bones of the structure still stood strong.