Twila's Tempest

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Twila's Tempest Page 25

by Natasza Waters

“So are you going to visit him?”

  “No, I’m staying here.”

  “Twila, be reasonable, this is a cat3, it’s a major hurricane. Port St. Lucie could take it straight on. You have to get out of its way.”

  “You’re in its way,” she argued.

  “Yeah, but my house is on stilts and it’s hurricane proof, your trailer isn’t. Now batten down the hatches, get in Lindy and head south.”

  “Sorry, Drake, there’s a lot of work to do before Wilma gets here. I need to go.”

  “Twi— ”

  “Bye,” and she hung up. When the phone rang again she ignored it. Heading toward the park’s meeting hall, she saw plenty of people gathering. The usual pamphlets were being handed out with information on what to do if you intended to stay in your trailer. Since the hurricane warning was forecast to hit their piece of Florida, the first suggestion was to leave, but many of the residents had nowhere else to go. She would stay and help them.

  “Twila,” she heard her name called sharply and turned to see Becka and Gordon heading her way.

  “Drake just called. You’re not staying here, young lady.”

  “Becka,” she said, placing a hand on either shoulder to relax the woman.

  “No arguments, you’re coming with us.”

  She took a step back. “No, I’m staying to help.”

  “They can help themselves.”

  “Some can’t, Becka. I don’t know if you’ve been through a lot of hurricanes, but it’s really more hype to a Floridian than to others.”

  “High winds, flooding, storm surge, death,” she said melodramatically, “is not hype young lady. We’re going to Drake’s. His home can withstand anything God throws at us. They say this thing is three hundred and fifty miles wide. It’s enormous.”

  She was going to argue, but Layton stopped her. “Twila, Drake wants us to bring you.” He jerked his head at his parents and they moved away. “He loves you, and he wants you with him.”

  “I love him too, but I have a responsibility here, Layton.”

  “Drake will skin me alive if you’re not with us.”

  She patted Layton’s shoulder. “I’m staying Layton, but thanks for the concern.” She swept away from them before they could forge on with other arguments.

  * * * *

  Layton watched the resolute, not to mention stubborn Twila, walk away. He dialed his brother. “Sorry, bro, she’s not leaving.”

  “Then pick her up. Tie her hands and throw her in the car,” he growled into the phone.

  “Listen, brother, I don’t think anyone is more intent on staying. She’s lived through a lot of hurricanes. I’ve been through a few of them on the aircraft carriers. Maybe it’ll veer before it makes landfall.”

  “It’s not veering. It’s aiming straight at you. I want her with me—convince her.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  “I don’t care, but you’re persuasive, persuade her.”

  Layton rolled his eyes and sighed. “Sure, talk to you later.” Great, he thought, less than two days to go until the outer bands of wind reached them and then it would be too late. He watched his brother’s fiancée reassuring the residents of the park.

  “Mrs. Pearson, if there’s a mandatory evacuation we’ll all have to leave,” Twila explained.

  “But I have nowhere to go,” the elderly woman with tight grey curls said, twisting her hands together.

  “Other cities set up safe havens for people who don’t have family to go to, but until then, we can prepare. We’ll pull your hurricane shutters; make sure you have plenty of water and light. We’ll bring in that windmill on your front lawn so it doesn’t fly away and hurt anyone. We’ll make sure you have enough food supplies to hold out for a week in case there’s flooding. Take this,” Twila said handing her a sheet. “Read it over and tomorrow morning I’ll check up on you and we’ll pick things up if we need to.”

  “Are your parents leaving, Layton?” Mrs. Pearson asked.

  “We’re heading to Drake’s place in Key West. It can withstand a cat5.”

  “You’re leaving, Twila?” Mrs. Pearson’s voice wavered with fear.

  “No,” she said, giving her a gentle hug. “I’m staying.”

  “She’s leaving,” Layton countered. “Her fiancée wants her with him.”

  Twila turned on him, a perturbed expression tightening her brow. So much for being a sedate woman as Drake had described her.

  “Listen, I’m not going to Drake’s.”

  “I have orders,” he said.

  She blinked. “What orders?”

  “Tie you up, throw you in the car, and drive south. My brother and I have hammered on each other a few times over the years, but he’ll kill me if I don’t show up with you.”

  “Sorry to hear about your death sentence,” she drawled and disappeared into the crowd.

  Layton scratched his neck and wondered how bad it was going to hurt. By the look on Twila’s face, nothing would make her leave.

  * * * *

  Twenty four hours had passed and Twila had been up for most of it. She took a brief moment to sit down on the couch and she woke with a start as a hand squeezed her arm. Layton knelt in front of her.

  “Twila, you’re just about done in, girl. You need rest and I want you to have it in the car.”

  “Layton, please. I just need a couple minutes shut eye and then I have more work to do.”

  “Listen, woman, you think a hurricane has high winds, but you’ve never seen our mother mad, and she’s working herself up over you not coming with us. I’m afraid she’s going to have a heart attack.”

  “Your mother is as strong as a horse and stubborn as a mule.”

  “That’s why you’re going to give in and come with us. I came over instead of unleashing God’s wrath in the form of a five-foot-four seventy-year-old retiree with attitude. But if I don’t have you with me when I come back, she’s going to take it out on all of us.”

  “Want a beer?”

  “Don’t change the subject, and yes.”

  “Good, get it yourself.”

  He chuckled and returned with a beer for both of them than flopped down on the couch. “Drake’s been driving me nuts, calling every hour. Why don’t you answer his calls?”

  “Because I know what he’ll say.”

  Layton peeled the label from his beer and then eyed her. “He’s pretty crazy about you.”

  “That in itself is an Act of God.”

  Layton leaned forward and propped his arms on his thighs. “Why do you say that?”

  Layton’s features resembled Drake’s, but with a brooding darkness. It made his green eyes pop, and she was certain girls fell into Layton’s bed as often as they had Drake’s. “I’m not exactly like the women he dated before.”

  “Believe me, you’re the kind of girl every guy hopes he’ll find, but usually doesn’t. Eventually, he stops lookin’ and settles for a woman like Heather. I only met her once, but once was enough.” He gave her a look from beneath his brows and offered a half-hearted shrug. “The second I saw him look at you, I knew his bachelor days were over. Cut him a break this one time. He’s going crazy without you.”

  The phone rang and she leaned over to see Drake’s number on the display. When she didn’t pick it up, Layton did.

  “Take it easy man. If you talk to her like that she’s going to hang up on you.” He nodded. “Talk to the guy at least,” he said, holding the phone out to her.

  She took it from him and braced herself.

  “Twila?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Please, sweetheart, go with my family. The report hasn’t changed, in fact Wilma’s a healthy cat3. The winds could get to one-hundred twenty-nine mph, it’ll rip off roofs and cause devastation, not to mention the surge that’s going to drown Port St. Lucie. I want you with me,” he pleaded.

  “Can’t you understand? I can’t leave this trailer. All my mom and dad’s things are here.”<
br />
  “Sweetheart, they’re things. Your mom and dad are in your heart and in your memories. You’re in my heart. I need to know you’re safe. I need you here.”

  She swallowed deeply as she looked around the trailer. She’d left it the way her parents had lived in it, she couldn’t leave. “Drake…”

  “I will come up there and get you myself if you don’t get in that damn car with my family. Stop being so stubborn,” he said, lashing out in frustration.

  “Do you want to talk to your brother?”

  She heard a deep sigh. “Yes.”

  She laid her head down and closed her eyes while Layton talked on the phone.

  “We’ll stay as long as we can, bro, but I’m taking mom and dad out of here no later than two tomorrow. The wind bag’s surge is expected by eight tomorrow night. Yeah, I’ll try. See ya.”

  A soft blanket fell over her and Layton brushed her hair from her face. “Get some rest and change your mind, because I don’t want to be forced to tie you up.”

  She gave him a lazy smile, already gripped by sleep.

  * * * *

  Twila woke at two in the morning, the wind sending her neighbors chimes into a tinkling frenzy. She stepped into the Florida room. The cool air pushed through the screen, and her gaze shot to the thermometer on the wall, sixty-five degrees. The thirty foot palm in front of her trailer stretched its fronds toward the east. The winds were already pushing in ahead of the hurricane, announcing its approaching wrath. The line of metal and wooden chimes clashed together angrily instead of tinkling a comforting tone. The animals in the park were silent, already in hiding. Nature had a way of taking care of her own, instilling them with a warning system.

  The park had made good headway yesterday, preparing for the blow. There was more to do, and she could start now by lowering most of her hurricane shutters. This trailer had survived several hurricanes; some of them cat3’s. It could withstand Wilma.

  Twila returned to the kitchen, threw on a pot of coffee and grabbed a muffin, then returned to the Florida room to wait. She settled in her favorite chair and listened to Mother Nature speak to her creatures. It was going to be another long day.

  Dropping the last shutter into place and bolting it down, she heard the phone ring. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised noon had come and gone already. Twila picked up without looking at the caller.

  “Twila’s Hurricane Preparedness Service, speak your need,” she said, then chuckled.

  “Twila,” Drake said gruffly.

  Her emotions dipped. “Drake, you can’t keep calling me.” He’d called every hour, angry, worried, and upbeat. He’d tried everything to convince her to go.

  “Wilma will make landfall in six hours. If you’re not in that car with my brother I’m getting in mine, do you understand me?”

  “No, you’re not.” She heard something crash to the ground from the other end of the phone. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” he said sharply.

  “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

  “Just a whiteboard with designs fell over.”

  “Fell over or got kicked over?” The line remained silent. Oh no! Drake’s yacht was moored here. He’d left it and driven home. “The Rebecca,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, Drake. Don’t worry so much. Jimmy the ass-o-meter is reporting the winds are going to die down when she crosses the state. It’ll probably be nothing but a gusty day when she reaches us on the east coast.”

  “Listen to me you stubborn woman. Layton says the park is secure and the residents are safe. He’s bringing our parents here. I’m not willing to take a chance on Mother Nature. I want you in that car and in my arms in under five hours before Wilma hits.”

  The Rebecca would be ruined if she remained here. The ship was part of Drake, and now her. They’d spent so much time on board. He was right, the park was secure. Could she get the yacht out of the way of a direct hit? At a top speed of thirty knots, she might make it. She had six hours. She could get the Rebecca south of the eye and she’d be safer out at sea. If the Rebecca remained alongside she’d be destroyed. “Drake, there’s something else I have to do.”

  “What is so damn important?”

  She was scared shitless, but at the same time she knew she could do it. “I love you, Drake and I promise I’ll see you soon.” She hung up quickly and ran down the hallway into her bedroom to snatch up the backpack she’d started using when they’d take the Rebecca out for a cruise. She stuffed an extra shirt and a pair of pants inside and clutched her mother’s sweater in her free hand for luck.

  * * * *

  Drake pulled on his jacket and headed out to join his crew down at the dock. The last of the yachts were being anchored off shore. It’s one of the reasons he’d chosen this location for his business. They’d ridden out all the hurricanes without losing a single ship. The seabed was perfect for setting the anchors. All the expensive gear had been moved to the secure storage facility he’d built like his home. On stilts and raised above flooding waters, it could handle a cat5. They worked for another hour and the whole time Twila’s voice swirled in his mind. A sense of unease kept nagging him. With the waterfront site secure, his crew stood staring at him.

  “What’s the matter, boss?” Kyle his foreman asked warily as they stood in the office, the wind beginning to make the siding clatter.

  “I don’t know,” he said, gazing at the reams of schematics tacked to the wall. His gut told him he should be scared, but why? I’ll see you soon she said. If she wasn’t coming with his brother, what did that mean? Drake’s gaze landed on the framed schematic of the Rebecca on the wall behind his desk. No. No way. He put his cell to his ear, and when it went to Twila’s voice mail, he said, “Twila, what the hell are you thinking? Don’t even fucking go there. Don’t you dare go near that ship,” he shouted. He hung up. With a sickening certainty, he knew he was right.

  Kyle put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man, you okay?”

  Drake pressed his eyes tightly closed. “I think Twila’s going to try and save the Rebecca.” His guts tied in knots. Why the hell did that woman think she needed to save everyone and everything? He whirled around. “I won’t be able to get a flight out of here now.” He dialed his brother.

  “Layton, get to Twila’s. You have to stop her, I think she’s going to try and take the Rebecca down the coast.”

  “Are you shitting me? Is she crazy?”

  He could hear Layton running and the bang of the screen door.

  Tension twisted in his neck, and he took one breath for every three until Layton got to her place.

  “Shit.”

  “She’s not there?”

  “Cars gone.”

  “God damn it.” He kicked the other whiteboard in his office, watching as it crashed into the wall and fell over.

  “Drake?” Gabe, his old buddy from the Marines, a guy he’d trusted with his life and who he’d brought into the business last year, stepped up to him. “If I can get a chopper, I will fly you there.”

  “Are you sure, man?”

  Gabe nodded.

  “Layton?”

  “Here.”

  “You’ve waited too long already. Grab Mom and Dad and go. I’ll leave the house open.”

  “You’re coming?”

  “I don’t have a choice.” He jerked his head at Gabe in the affirmative. “Don’t care what it costs, get that chopper, buddy.”

  “Drake, I know you love her, but get serious, it’s a cat3. You’ll die too,” Layton warned.

  Drake turned to his crew. “Thanks, men, for staying as long as you did. You guys get outta here,” and watched them disperse.

  “Drake,” Layton said tersely. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “I heard you.”

  A sound of frustration broke the silence. “We’ll drive by the marina before we leave. If she’s there, I’ll tie her up and bring her. I love you, bro.”

  Drake smiled and bowed hi
s head. “Love you too, Layton. Keep the faith. We’re gonna make it, ‘cause I’m marrying that woman come hell or high water.”

  “You’ll get both. Keep me advised.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Just past one a.m., Layton and his parents had stopped at the Gator’s Nest Marina and caught the host shutting the doors and heading inland. He confirmed Drake’s suspicions, and it tied him in knots. Twila had taken the Rebecca and headed south. Layton didn’t see her car. She must have left Lindy somewhere safe and walked on foot.

  It had been hell trying to find someone who was willing to loan him a chopper. Drake glanced at his watch. Zero-five-hundred hours. With a quick calculation, she wouldn’t be more than forty-five nautical miles down the coast unable to steam at full speed with the growing seas. They were enormous already. The Rebecca was a sturdy ship, but Twila would be taking the waves on her beam, and it would be hard going.

  “Let’s go, Drake,” Gabe yelled at him from the doorway.

  He tried her cell phone once more, but the voice he’d begun to hate said, “I’m sorry the cellular customer you’re trying to contact is unavailable.” He turned on the AIS in his office. “There she is.”

  “Ten miles off the coast,” Gabe said over his shoulder. “Where’s Wilma?”

  Drake brought up the NOAA tracking site.

  “Oh shit,” Gabe muttered.

  Drake swallowed, but there was no moisture in his throat to draw from.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Gabe asked.

  He nodded watching Wilma’s course. “How long will it take us?”

  “Hour and a half maybe.”

  They wouldn’t have much time, and by the looks of it, no hope of getting out of Wilma’s way.

  “Jesus, Drake, it’s suicide.”

  Twila was on a converging course with Wilma, she just didn’t know it.

  With eyes peeled and the rain already coming down like daggers, the force of the advancing hurricane winds had grown to sixty miles per hour. They flew at a low altitude. It would be easy to spot her because there wasn’t anyone else insane enough to be out on the water.

  An hour later, his heart exploded with relief seeing the Rebecca making her way ten miles offshore. She’d made good time, but not good enough.

 

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