by Marin Thomas
“Ellen!”
She whirled and spotted Nelson and Seth standing next to the storm cellar, motioning her to hurry. After one last, furious glance at the sky, she sprinted for cover. “Get inside!” she ordered.
“The key, Mom!” Seth pointed to the lock on the shelter door. “Where’s the key?”
Panic squeezed her chest. She flung open the back porch screen door and frantically searched drawers and storage cabinets. They hadn’t used the shelter since last summer, but that was a poor excuse for not remembering where she’d stowed the key. Why hadn’t she thought to tape it to the wall above the door or to a window ledge? She checked behind the washer and dryer and under the welcome mat. Nothing. Her heart climbed higher in her throat. “I can’t find it!” She left the porch, only to come to a screeching halt at the sight of Nelson hovering over the cellar, an ax poised high above his head.
Acting on instinct, she snagged Seth’s T-shirt sleeve and yanked him behind her just as Nelson swung the ax down and severed the paddle lock with one mighty blow. He grasped the handle and jerked, but the wind caught the door, tearing it from his hold. The rusty hinges snapped and the door sailed over their heads, slamming into the side of the house and shattering the kitchen window. Refusing to relinquish her death grip on her son’s T-shirt, Ellen practically shoved Seth down the cellar steps.
Once their feet landed on the hard dirt floor, she guided him into the far corner. A shiver raced through her body—not from the cold damp air surrounding them but from fear. What if Nelson hadn’t been here? Would she have managed to break the lock on her own? She shuddered at the vision of her and Seth being sucked into a funnel cloud.
Nelson joined them in the corner and wrapped his strong arms around her and Seth. The three of them raised their heads to the opening at the top of the stairs and watched in fascinated horror as pieces of debris flew past.
Although it was only six-thirty in the morning, the sliver of sky visible through the opening grew darker by the second and Ellen regretted not grabbing a flashlight from the back porch.
“Mom,” Seth whimpered, squeezing her hand until it hurt.
“Everything will be okay, honey.” She prayed.
“Sounds like a train passing through the yard.” Nelson’s breath fanned the top of her head.
Immediately following his comment, the wind died down and the dark sky turned a sickly green.
“Is it over, Mom?”
Lord, I wish. “We’re in the eye,” she whispered, afraid if the storm heard her it would increase its fury.
Nelson’s hold tightened. “How long will we be stuck in the eye?”
“Depends on the size of the storm.” My poor cows. She doubted they’d survive unscathed. Every vet within a hundred-mile radius would be busy for the next week tending to injured livestock. She kept a small supply of medicines and first-aid necessities for her animals in the barn…but the supplies would be gone if the barn blew away.
They waited in silence, her mind struggling to reconcile how one moment she’d gone from making love to Nelson and feeling on top of the world to being sucked into the underbelly of hell. The hairs on her nape quivered in warning. “Here it comes.”
A clap of thunder shook the heavens, then a large tree limb sailed by the opening like a feather floating in the wind. This is bad.
She sent up a silent prayer for an end to the destruction. No sooner had she uttered amen than a large piece of metal debris, probably part of the barn, wedged itself in the opening, casting the shelter into pitch blackness.
“Stay calm,” Nelson urged. “Chances are the wind will knock it loose.”
Not five minutes later, the piece of metal shook and squeaked, and then a loud snap sounded as the debris popped free.
Big fat raindrops fell through the opening, wetting the stairs. “It’s almost over.”
“Are you sure, Mom?”
She was pretty sure it was the end of this storm. She had no idea if another system was headed for them. She kissed Seth’s mussed hair. “Rain and hail usually follow the eye.”
Ping. Ping. Just as she’d predicted, hail—the size of small marbles—bounced down the cellar steps. Tears burned her eyes as she envisioned her cows out in the open, unprotected, hail pelting their hides. They waited for what felt like hours but was only a matter of minutes before the heavy rain abated and the hail let up.
“Stay here.” Nelson climbed the stairs, then muttered, “I’ll be damned” when he reached the top.
“What?” Ellen asked, poised on the bottom step.
“Half the sky is black. The other half is as blue as swimming-pool water.” He made room for her when she reached his side. Seth wiggled between them.
“The barn’s gone.” Her son’s voice cracked as he leaned into her.
Hugging him, she shivered and studied the remains of the structure—the cement slab and several steel support beams. Mangled pieces of metal were strewn across the driveway and adjoining acreage. Smaller debris was stuck in the tree. Two large limbs had been brutally severed from the trunk. One of the limbs lay across the truck bed, denting the metal. Her windshield had a spider crack running through it. The west side of her fence stood straight and tall. The east side had been blown flat, its posts scattered across the ground like toothpicks.
So much destruction…and she hadn’t even inspected the house. She was afraid to turn around…afraid it wouldn’t be there.
Nelson must have sensed her anxiety because he clasped her shoulder and assured her, “The house is still standing.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she and Seth shifted as one to view the home behind them. Part of the roof had been torn off, but the walls remained intact. She envisioned the water damage inside and bit her lip to keep from bawling.
Nelson studied her face, then suggested, “Seth, let’s check on my car.”
Grateful Nelson sensed she needed a moment alone, she waited until the two males had disappeared around the corner of the house before she allowed her legs to buckle and she fell to her knees in the soggy grass. She couldn’t stop the tears. Didn’t even try to. She struggled to breathe, fearing she might hyperventilate.
Doomed. She was doomed. Her property insurance would cover some of the damage but not all. What did it matter? She couldn’t afford the $20,000 deductible. Never mind replacing livestock. The pasture beyond the house wavered before her blurry eyes. Had any of her cows survived?
“Hey, Mom.” Seth’s excited voice carried to her from the front yard.
She scrubbed her eyes with grimy fingers and shouted, “Coming!” She forced her rubbery legs to support her.
When she rounded the corner of the house, Seth pointed to Nelson’s car. “Look, Mom, only a few dents from the hail. Can you believe it?”
She stared in amazement. Aside from a few scratches, the vehicle appeared undamaged.
Nelson’s happy grin pierced her heart. Despair filled her lungs, making it impossible to catch her breath. It wasn’t fair. The tornado had destroyed her farm and left her home in shambles. Yet the same twister had spared Nelson’s stupid little sports car. Despair gave way to anger. She dropped her gaze to the ground. When she spotted a rock the size of her fist, she picked it up and threw it as hard as she could at the car’s windshield.
The damn stone bounced off the glass like a rubber ball. Stunned by her action, she stared in horror at Seth’s and Nelson’s shocked expressions. Oh, God, I’m falling apart.
Cautiously, Nelson approached, concern darkening his eyes. “You okay, Ellen?” he asked, gently touching her shoulder.
“Don’t be nice to me. I did a terrible thing,” she choked out.
“Come here, angel.” He wrapped her in his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Everything will be okay.”
“No, it won’t,” she blubbered.
“Is Mom all right?” Seth’s voice shook.
“She’ll be fine, son.” Nelson dug into his jeans pocket and removed his BlackBerry. “Pho
ne Brad’s family and find out if they’re okay. Your mom and I are going out to locate the cows.” Nelson set her from him, then wiped her face with his fingertips.
“Seth,” she called as he walked away. “Stay here in case the sheriff stops. And don’t go into the house until we return.”
Hand in hand, she and Nelson trekked through the pasture and beyond. Her first attempt to shout Betty’s name ended in a warble. She hollered over and over, until her voice grew hoarse. It wasn’t long before they happened upon a few of the cows.
Traumatized by the violent weather, they huddled together and were bawling softly. Ellen’s quiet words and gentle caresses calmed them enough so she could inspect their condition. Aside from minor bruises and scratches, they appeared in good shape.
“Over here.” Nelson waved to her from a clump of debris several yards away. “I’m sorry, Ellen.” His sympathetic expression warned her as she approached the heap.
She recognized the solid black rump sticking out from the bottom of the pile. Oh, Betty. She dropped to her knees and began tossing aside pieces of wood, roof shingles, boards and other debris, heedless of the small nicks and scratches to her unprotected hands. When she’d finally uncovered the cow, she stopped breathing. An uprooted fence post had impaled the poor creature. Ellen rested her cheek against Betty’s head. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.” Tears poured from her eyes, soaking the cow’s hide. Lost in her grief, Ellen was unaware of time passing and didn’t utter a sound of protest when Nelson hauled her exhausted body into his arms and carried her back to the house.
Vulnerable. Young.
So damn delicate.
Nelson stood next to the couch where Ellen napped…relaxed and worry-free. He checked his watch. After they’d returned from the gruesome discovery of Betty’s carcass, he’d forced her to take a couple of pain-killers and lie down for a short while. Twelve hours had passed since she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Seth had been able to contact Brad’s family and Nelson had spoken with the father. Their property had suffered only minor damage and their house and barns had remained intact. Brad’s father had suggested Seth spend a few days with them while Ellen came to grips with her situation, and the teen had jumped at the offer.
Obviously, Nelson’s attempts to reassure the boy that everything would be fine had failed. Hell, the kid wasn’t stupid. Seth understood the destruction from the tornado had left his mother in deep financial trouble.
While Ellen slept, Nelson had used the time to survey the damage to the house. Not only had the winds torn off the portion of roof that once covered the bedrooms, but it had damaged two of the outer walls, leaving the electrical wiring exposed. Upon closer inspection, he’d noticed the wiring was the outdated aluminum kind, not the standard copper used in homes today. Not only would Ellen have to replace the roof but she would also have to update the electrical wiring throughout the entire house. Add new barns, milking equipment, a vehicle, additional livestock, feed, fencing, supplies and a hundred other items necessary to run a dairy farm. Ellen had no choice now but to sell.
Her golden lashes fluttered and a moment later she opened her eyes. He sat on the edge of the sofa near her hip and brushed a knuckle across her cheek. “Good evening, sleepyhead.”
Her mouth curved into a smile as she stretched her arms above her head, her back arching off the cushions. He recognized the instant she remembered the storm—her body stiffened and her smile vanished.
He pulled her into his arms and searched his brain for the words to help her feel better—but there weren’t any. Helplessness—a feeling so foreign to him he hadn’t a clue how to fight it—filled him. He tipped her chin. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She shoved her palms against his chest, then swung her legs off the sofa, stood and swayed on her feet. “Easy for you to say when the storm didn’t ruin your house or your barns or even your car.”
Concerned about her physical well-being, he offered, “Let me get you something to eat.”
Ignoring his offer, she asked, “Where’s Seth?”
“He’s staying at Brad’s house for a couple of days. Their farm escaped the storm, but if you’d rather have him home, I’ll drive over and get him.”
“No. Let him be.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
“I turned the water and gas back on. Why don’t you soak in the tub while I make you a sandwich.” Ellen needed to eat before she passed out.
“How long have I been asleep?” She gazed out the living-room window at the gathering shadows.
“Since early this morning.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Her chin trembled, but she bit her lip, refusing to cry.
Watching her struggle against tears was more than Nelson could bear. He reached for her, but she shied away, her rejection stinging more than he cared to admit. “Tomorrow is soon enough to begin cleaning up and making plans.”
Cheeks pink with anger, she argued, “The cows should be fed and milked, then—”
“Ellen, stop.” He consciously lowered his voice. “The cows will be fine. They can feed off the grass. After the scare they had today, they won’t give milk for a while.”
“The house has to be cleaned.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared.
“No sense exhausting yourself for nothing.”
“What do you mean, for nothing?”
She was in no shape, physically or emotionally, for this conversation, but she appeared determined to have it. “The storm was a sign, Ellen.”
Eyes flashing, she snorted, “A sign?”
“I realize the farm means a lot to you, but it’s gone. There’s nothing left to keep you here.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Let me finish.”
Pacing the floor, he explained. “You maintained one of the reasons you stayed on the farm was Seth. You felt it was important to keep the dairy going in case he decided to take it over when he grew up.” She looked ready to deny the charge, but she glanced away without uttering a word. “The dairy is gone, Ellen. The house has suffered major damage. The only thing left of value is the land.”
“Are you suggesting I give up? Just walk off?”
“I wouldn’t call it giving up. I could help you find a way to keep the land. If Seth wanted, he could return and rebuild when he’s older.”
“What if I don’t care to quit?”
Nelson struggled to see past her I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-you-think expression. “After all the destruction the storm caused, you’re telling me you’d rather stay?”
“Insurance will pay for some of the repairs.”
“True, but what about the deductible? How will you secure that kind of money?”
She crossed the room to the rolltop desk and rummaged through a drawer. After tossing aside papers, she removed a coffee can, popped the lid, then pulled out a wad of cash tied in a rubber band. “I have ten thousand dollars here.”
Was she crazy? The money should be in a bank, not a desk drawer, where it could have been carried away by the tornado. Not sure how he felt about Ellen’s stash, he asked, “How long have you had the money?”
She stared into space, her fingers clenching and unclenching the roll of bills. “I’ve been saving since before I got pregnant with Seth.”
“Saving for what?” When she didn’t answer, he repeated, “Ellen, why haven’t you used the money to pay off your debts?”
After a never-ending minute she blurted, “To run away, okay?”
Run away?
Her mouth curved. “I yearned to run away to the city. Then I got pregnant.” Her shoulders slumped. “And married and well…” She shrugged. “I kept saving…in case.”
Stunned by what she’d revealed, Nelson sat on the couch cushions. “Why are you still here, Ellen?” he badgered. She had to admit her fear before she could move on with her life. Before she could move on to him.
Turning her back, she spat, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Fro
m where I’m sitting, it matters a hell of a lot.”
“Fine.” She faced him. “You want an answer?”
His goal hadn’t been to anger her, but anger was better than the misery shining in her eyes earlier.
“Dairy farming is all I do, Nelson. I have a son to support. I can’t just run off and play at a new career.”
“Maybe I’m confused. But I believe we were pretty damn honest with our feelings for each other before the storm hit.”
She refused to make eye contact. “I have strong feelings for you, Nelson. I won’t deny that.”
Strong feelings? “You said you loved me.” When she remained silent, he added, “I said I loved you.”
“We were caught up in the—”
“No.” He shot off the couch. “I love you, Ellen. I wish to make a life with you and Seth. I want us to get married. I want you both to move to Chicago. I want us to be a family.”
“The farm—”
“There is no farm. The storm was a signal—a signal to move on with your life.”
“I’m not ready to move on.”
“What about Seth? Do you care about what he wants? Is it fair to make him suffer because you’re afraid?”
“Seth doesn’t mind the farm.”
“That’s a lie.” He swept his arms out in front of him. “This isn’t the life he wants, Ellen. Together, we can show him what the world has to offer besides cows.” When she didn’t speak, he added, “You’re not being fair.”
“This isn’t about fair. This is about keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table.”
“If you marry me, Ellen, you won’t have to worry about those things.”
He read the indecision in her eyes. Deep down in his gut he clung to the belief her love for him would make her see reason. But a full minute passed and only silence filled the room. His heart heavy, he searched for the right words to sway her. To make her accept that his love for her was all she needed to leave the only life she’d ever known.