A Christmas Family Wish by Helen Scott Taylor Page B

woke to the insistent sound of the phone chiming. He lay
for a moment, blinking in the darkness. Who was calling him in the middle of
the night? He fumbled for his mobile phone on the nightstand and it fell off.
    With a curse, he leaned over and felt on the floor. The
sound stopped as he put his hand on the phone. Flopping back in bed, he held
the device up to see the screen. One missed call from Jeff Carne. Last he heard,
Jeff had a heart attack and sold his company to move to Spain, where it was
warmer. Weird he should be calling him now.
    The phone chimed again and he held it to his ear. "Hi,
Jeff. What's the problem?"
    "Ian, thank heaven I got you. I need you to help
Rachel. She says you've got a hurricane there."
    Ian paused to listen to the rain pelting the window. His
place was sheltered from the worst weather. Meadow Sweet Farm lay in a valley
and the wind passed them by. Storms had been forecast, though. "Maybe
calling it a hurricane is an exaggeration," he said, remembering what a
drama queen Rachel had been.
    "Well, whatever. A tree's come down on Rachel's house.
Right on her boy's bedroom."
    "Hell." That got Ian's attention. He sat up and
rubbed his eyes. "Is the kid okay?"
    "She says so. Will you go over there and help them?
She's pretty upset, by the sound of things."
    "Sure. I'll leave immediately. What's the
address?" Jeff told him and Ian tapped it into the notepad on his phone.
"I'm on my way."
    "Thanks. Keep me updated."
    "Will do."
    Ian was out of bed before he ended the call. Jeff and Irene
Carne had given him a chance after his mother died and he went off the rails,
when nobody else would. They'd taught him all they knew about running a
construction company and looked out for him. Ian would do pretty much anything
for them.
    He pulled on some warm clothes and parted the curtains to
check outside. Rain slanted down, the gusting wind blowing it all over the
place. Nice.
    Ian's old golden retriever lumbered out of his bed by the
stove and tried to follow him as he fetched his boots and coat from the utility
room and headed across the kitchen to the back door.
    "No, you silly thing. You stay here where it's
warm." Ian pointed at the wicker basket lined with sheepskin. "Bed,
Max. Go in your bed."
    Max trundled back and curled up, resting his head on his
paws with a long-suffering sigh. Ian laughed and crouched to stroke the dog's
head before he pulled on his coat and hat. "You're not missing anything, I
assure you." It wouldn't be pleasant outside.
    The wind and rain buffeted him as he walked to his pickup
and climbed in. Water poured along the narrow country roads, turning them to
rivers. In a few dips, he splashed through flooded areas where the drains were
overwhelmed. Twigs and leaves swirled in the beam of his headlights while in a
couple of places he had to swerve to avoid fallen tree branches in the road.
    The gale was worse than he'd thought. As he reached the
outskirts of town, trash dove around in the wind, bouncing off buildings and
cars. After twenty minutes, he reached the street where Jeff's daughter lived.
    He had no trouble locating her house. Although the street
lights were out, he could see a massive old oak growing at the roadside had
smashed into the front of her place. The council should probably have cut the
tree back long ago.
    Ian's windshield wipers slashed to and fro, barely keeping
the glass clear of rain as he peered at the damage. A cold sweat broke out
under his arms. He'd half expected to turn up and find Rachel had exaggerated.
He remembered her as being a handful when she was a teen, always giving Jeff
the runaround. This time she'd told the truth. The front of the house was darn
near demolished. And that was her kid's bedroom. Jeff had said the child was
okay, thank God.
    Ian blew out a breath. The first thing he needed to do was
get Rachel and the boy out of there. He turned up his collar before he climbed
out.
    A few hardy souls were knocking on Rachel Carne's front
door.