A Christmas Family Wish by Helen Scott Taylor Page A

face.
    "Okay, sweetie. It's okay. I need to check you over.
There's a good boy." Rachel pulled off his wet pajamas and dried him with
her bedcovers. Holding the flashlight above him, she ran a hand all over him,
searching for cuts and bruises.
    Miraculously, he was unmarked. "You're okay, Toby.
You're not hurt. Calm down, sweetheart." She grabbed one of her T-shirts
from a drawer and pulled it over his head, then sat on the edge of the bed,
hugging him close, rocking him.
    Gradually his crying stopped and he scrubbed his fists over
his eyes. "The wall fell down and the rain came in."
    "I know, baby. Don't worry about it. You're safe with
me."
    He cuddled closer. "Where's Jimbo?"
    Rachel closed her eyes and fought to stay calm. She couldn't
go back to Toby's room for a teddy bear. "Jimbo is watching over your
things until it gets light and Mummy can rescue them."
    Toby pouted but seemed to accept that explanation.
    "Let's get you all warm and snuggly in Mummy's bed,
shall we?" She lifted the covers and Toby crawled inside and curled up.
"You go back to sleep, baby." She sat beside him and stroked his damp
hair for a few minutes until his breathing grew even and she was sure he slept.
    For a few moments she rested her head in her hands, eyes
closed, shivering in the chill. She needed to pull herself together, dry off,
and change clothes.
    Trembling with a mix of shock and relief, Rachel dragged off
her clingy, wet nightdress, gave herself a cursory wipe down, and wrapped
herself in a warm dressing gown.
    Thank God Toby was unhurt. Rachel snuggled under the covers
and curled around her four-year-old, her heart still pounding. She hugged Toby
close, stroking and kissing his hair until she could think more clearly.
    The house was half fallen down. She couldn't stay here. Yet
where could she go in the middle of the night? It would be dangerous to try to
drive anywhere in the storm. She didn't have any relatives she could stay with.
Her parents had retired to Spain for her father's health.
    The last thing she wanted to do with her dad so sick was
worry him, but she didn't know who else to turn to. With a shaking hand, she
reached for her mobile phone and dialed her father's number. It went through to
voice mail. She cut the connection and dialed again. On the second try, he
picked up.
    "Rachel. What's wrong?" Her father's voice was
scratchy with sleep.
    "A tree's come down on my house in the hurricane. It
hit Toby's bedroom. I don't know what to do, Dad."
    "Is Toby all right?"
    "Yes. He's here with me."
    "Thank the Lord." There were a few moments of
muffled conversation as her dad told her mum what had happened. Then he came
back on the phone.
    "Where are you, Rachel?"
    "In my bedroom."
    "Is it safe there?"
    Rachel sucked in a breath, her gaze going to the door. The
temperature had plummeted, and wind and rain battered against the wood.
    "I don't know. The front of the house where the tree
hit is falling down."
    Her father cursed. "Can you get down the stairs?"
    "I haven't looked."
    "Okay. Don't worry, darling. You stay put. I'll call
Ian Harper and get him out to you. He'll know what to do."
    Hearing Ian's name sent a strange shock through Rachel. She
hadn't heard her dad mention him for years. Ian had worked for her dad's
construction company, then left to set up his own. "Will he come out in
the middle of the night?"
    "Of course. He owes me one."
    "Okay, Dad. Thanks."
    "You just stay safe and look after that grandson of
ours. I'll call Ian now."
    Rachel ended the call and sighed. She pulled away from Toby,
careful not to wake him, and climbed out of the warm cocoon of the bed into the
cold room.
    She should be good at coping with emergencies. As a flight
attendant for an airline, she'd been trained for all sorts of eventualities,
including what to do when a plane crashed. A tree falling on her house wasn't
quite the same thing, but it was close.
    It was time to pull herself together, get dressed, and deal with
this mess.
    ***
    Ian