Going Once (Forces of Nature) by Sharon Sala Read Free Book Online Page B

blond hair approached.
    “Hi, Nola. You come with me and, as my granny used to say, we’ll let these men get back to their rat killing.”
    Nola smiled. “My aunt Frannie used to say the same thing.”
    Laura laughed. “The South is a fine place, is it not? Except maybe for floods and tornadoes, and hurricanes and gators.”
    When Tate walked away, he kept thinking he was forgetting something. And then it hit him, and he made a quick run back into the office and found the women in the back room where the clothing was stored.
    “Hey, Nola, one more thing.” When she waited for him to speak, he added, “In private.”
    She went to the doorway. “What?”
    He ignored the snap in her tone and lowered his voice.
    “Right now, all anyone knows about you is that you are just another flood victim. Don’t talk about what you saw and hopefully it won’t get out, understand?”
    She nodded, her eyes widening fearfully, and just like that, she was reminded of her precarious position.
    Tate felt her fear. “And don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere. We’re staying here, too, so if you feel uncomfortable in any way, find one of us immediately. Okay?”
    She looked away as her eyes filled with tears.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled. “All I seem to do these days is cry.”
    He cupped her face. Whether she liked it or not, he needed to touch her.
    “Don’t, Nola.... If I’d been through what you went through, I’d be crying, too. Don’t apologize for anything, and remember, we’ve got your back.”
    She wanted to throw herself in his arms. She chalked the feeling up to being worn out and scared, but when he walked away, she struggled with the urge to follow.
    “Nola?”
    She jumped. She’d forgotten all about Laura and the clothes.
    “I’m sorry. I’m coming,” Nola said.

Four
    N ola now had three pairs of jeans and an equal number of T-shirts, along with one lightweight jacket and a pair of tennis shoes. Walking back through the gym, making her way through the rows and rows of cots, carrying her secondhand clothes, dodging kids playing and waving at friends who were already there, she began to realize how really blessed they all were. They had survived what insurance companies would call “an act of God,” knowing full well it was by the grace of God they had been saved.
    The Red Cross had given her a pillow and a blanket, and assigned her to a cot in the corner next to the FBI agents. When she’d raised her eyebrows about the location, Laura had whispered in her ear that Agent Winger had requested it.
    Nola didn’t argue, and thankfully Laura didn’t comment one way or the other about the oddity of the request. At the moment, all three of the agents were gone and Nola was relieved. Being around Tate was harder than she would have imagined. All these years she’d been so angry and hurt at the way they had parted. Now she was just disgusted with herself that the attraction was still there.
    She’d heard enough conversation between them on the drive home to know that their field office was at the police station, so she assumed that was where they were.
    As soon as she changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she stashed the rest of what they’d given her under the cot. She had one more task to finish and was going to need help, so she began walking through the crowded gym, looking for a familiar face. When she saw Delores Brim, who had been one of her mother’s friends, she headed toward her.
    Delores saw her coming and stood abruptly.
    “Nola! Oh, honey, I worried about you. Did it take your house?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Nola said. “What about you and Joe?”
    “We don’t know. We evacuated early on. We haven’t been back.”
    “I need to ask a favor of you. Would you please braid my hair? Just one long braid down my back. My hands are still too stiff to do it myself.”
    Delores grabbed Nola’s hands and turned them over, saw the abrasions and the bandages on her wrists, and began to