Noah ran his hand through his curling hair and watched her skip down the stairs. Sometimes it baffled him that he’d known his daughter for all of her twelve years yet at times they were complete strangers. He was officially one of those dads who didn’t “get it.” Sara had gone from his adorable princess who raced down the stairs to greet him every day to the fiercely independent near-teen who now seemed to care more about magazines and reality TV than being a well-rounded human.

He still caught glimpses of the little girl who captured his heart about two seconds after she was born. But most hours of the day were now spent in a constant battle of homework and parental nudging to make good life choices. He loved her more than anything in the world. He’d do whatever it took to protect Sara from bad decisions and frivolous diversions. Even if it meant she was constantly annoyed with him.

Noah’s desk phone rang again, and a second later his cell phone echoed it. He sighed. He had less than twelve hours to make sure every one of Merry’s citizens were safe before Hurricane Veronica made landfall. He rubbed his tired eyes under his glasses. It was going to be a long night.

--------

Sara’s gaze wandered to the living room windows where the incessant rain pelted. The roar of the storm surrounded them, and Noah wished he would have gotten the roof redone like he’d planned this summer. The three-story Victorian monstrosity on the hill was too big for just the two of them. Six bedrooms, five bathrooms in dire need of updating, and two freaking formal parlors. Purchasing it had been a whim, despite the fact that Noah never had whims. But in the midst of a polite divorce, he and Sara had spotted the for sale sign one day. She’d fallen in love with the fanciful mess in a way that only an imaginative six-year-old could.

Noah blamed Sara’s princess phase and his desire to ease the transition to two separate families for the choice of real estate. Not that he minded the house. Its creaky, crooked doors, cozy nooks, and football field-sized kitchen had a certain charm, a character that made it impossible not to like.

However, the projects that he’d promised himself he’d tackle had taken a backseat to raising his daughter and keeping his town under control.

A town now under siege by a hurricane that seemed hell-bent on swamping them.

“House wins,” Noah said, drawing Sara’s attention back to their game.

She glared at his cards, adding them up in her head. “Cheater! You busted. I win!”