After the Summer Rain

by Gerri Hill

  “You’re right. I was going to ask how my projects were going but, you’re right. I don’t really want to think about it. I’m sure Dad is handling them fine.”

  Joyce laughed. “My God. What have they done to you? I thought you’d browbeat me to get status reports on each and every one of them!”

  She realized she was still staring at the painting and she recognized how calm she felt, how peaceful. She really didn’t want to know about her projects. At this particular moment, if truth be told, she didn’t even care about them.

  “Don’t want to stress over them, as you said.”

  “Okay—so are they like some kind of a cult or something? Have you been brainwashed?”

  Erin laughed at the seriousness of Joyce’s words. “Yeah, I guess they are kind of a cult.”

  “Oh, my God. Erin, are you really okay out there? You sound kinda odd.”

  “I’m fine, sis. Got what? Six more weeks or so? I’ll see you then…Out at the grocery store, under the pines. Call a couple of days before so you can set up a time with Stella.”

  “Does this mean I won’t hear from you again?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Erin, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Quit worrying, Joyce. I’m fine. Great, actually. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  “Should I give Dad a message or anything?”

  “Tell him I’m fine.” She stood up. “I need to go. There’s some fresh-out-of-the-oven banana bread calling my name. See you in September.”

  She hung up without waiting for Joyce to reply. There wasn’t really anything else to say, was there? She’d have plenty of time on the ride back to Albuquerque to fill her in on…on what? Where she’d stayed? What she ate? Who she slept with?

  She smiled at the painting one more time, then turned, heading back to the kitchen where quiet conversation and the occasional chuckle of laughter was heard. Back to where “fresh-out-of-the-oven” banana bread was waiting for her.

  Back to where Melanie was waiting for her.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Melanie sighed contentedly as she ran her fingers around Erin’s breast, then down her stomach, drawing lazy circles on her skin before making the return trip.

  “I think I’m insatiable,” she admitted. “Whatever have you done to me?”

  She felt Erin’s quiet laughter under her hand. “What have you done to me? It’s not even noon and we’re out here sunbathing in the nude.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?”

  “Well, it’s what we’re doing now.” Erin leaned over and kissed her. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve never made love in the water before?”

  “You have a pool. Surely you and Sarah—”

  “Oh, there were some make-out sessions, sure, but we always took it inside.”

  “You live in the city. I guess you have to.”

  “I guess.” She reached her hand across the rock they were lying on and rustled the water. “I like this much better.”

  Melanie had no reference since she’d never had a pool before, but yes, she imagined this—the creek, the mountains, the birds—was much more of a treat to the senses than a backyard pool in the city.

  She should be calling an end to their playtime, anyway. They hadn’t had rain in two days, but the forecast called for torrential rains by late afternoon, lingering through the night and into tomorrow. The threat of thunderstorms was there, as usual, but it was the heavy rain that had her worried. This storm would be a true monsoon. There were a hundred things that could be done in the garden to get ready, yet here she lay, soaking up the sun, feeling a bit sluggish after their lovemaking. She finally sighed, the sound making Erin raise her eyebrows.

  “I must get to work. If it rains as much as they say, tomorrow will be a wasted day.”

  “Not really. We’ve got green beans that we need to can and squash to put up.” Then Erin grinned. “And you said you were going to teach me how to make fresh salsa from the tomatoes that are coming in.”

  “I did, didn’t I? Well, that means you’ll need to pick some peppers too.” She sat up and glanced to the sky, which was still clear and sunny. “Okay…chores.” She smiled at Erin, who had sat up too. “You’re getting very tan.”

  “I’m getting very fat.”

  “Honey, you’ve got a long way to go before we can use that word.”

  She stood and offered her hand, pulling Erin up too. She found herself engulfed in a hug. A very naked hug. She was smiling as her eyes closed, and she tilted her head, giving Erin room as her lips moved across her neck.

  “You make me want to be lazy,” she murmured.

  “I’m trying to make you aroused.” She felt Erin smile against her neck. “I see your mind is still on the garden.”

  “If there was a grocery store down on the corner, I might be inclined to blow it off.” She moved her mouth to Erin’s, then pulled away. “But, alas, my grocery store is my garden. You don’t want me suffering through a bare winter, do you?”

  Erin’s expression changed as their eyes met…as, she was sure, did hers. Erin would be leaving in five weeks and two days—yes, she’d looked at the calendar. The monthly dinner with the ladies was coming up this week, then it was downhill from there. The days were flying by faster and faster, it seemed. They didn’t talk about it—not really. They acknowledged it, mostly silently. She supposed at some point they would do more than gloss over it. Not yet, though. She wasn’t ready to have that hovering over them for the next five weeks.

  “Come on,” she said after kissing Erin’s cheek lightly. “We need to finish putting hay out between the rows or it’ll be a muddy mess for the next month.”

  * * *

  Erin was thankful when she saw the dark clouds inching closer and closer to the bluff behind the cabin. She surveyed her work, knowing she’d have time to finish out the last row before the rain came. Melanie had already finished her section, the hay laid out neatly between the rows and around some of the plants. She was turning the new compost pile they’d built, and Erin saw her glance to the sky, too, probably calculating how much time she had left.

  She was hot and sweaty and tired, and again, she was struck by how much work it was, struck by the fact that Melanie usually tended to all these chores alone. How had she managed? Well, obviously it was usually all work and no play. Taking time out to play in the creek—and while away an hour making love—wasn’t a part of Melanie’s normal routine. From what she’d learned, the only divergence from work was an occasional hike she’d allow herself once or twice a week.

  Of course, she had to remind herself that it wasn’t like this all the time for Mel. Summer was simply the busiest. After the fall harvest and during the winter months, Melanie probably had more time—lots more time. Then what would she do? What did she do to occupy her time? Did she sit alone, wishing for spring and summer? What did she do?

  “You daydreaming?”

  She blinked several times, finding Melanie striding toward her. She nodded. “Yeah.” She tilted her head. “What do you do during the winter?”

  Melanie stood before her, resting her hands on her hips, a smile trying to form. It was obvious Mel was struggling to hide it. Erin noted that her hair seemed a little lighter than it had been when she’d first met her—bleached from the sun, maybe. Today, with the clear blue skies swallowing them, Mel’s eyes seemed to be nearly cobalt.

  “Do?” she asked, finally giving in to the smile. “You mean, being a hermit and all, what do I do with my time when the garden isn’t active?”

  “Yeah. That.”

  Melanie took a step closer. “Are you worried about me?”

  “No. You’ve managed seven years without me. I don’t imagine you’ll miss me being around.”

  Melanie’s smile faded. “Well, you’d be wrong.” She stepped closer still, finally letting their bodies touch. The kiss Mel gave her was feather-soft. “I’ll miss you.” Their arms went around each other simultaneously
. “I’ll miss everything about you being here…from your fresh tortillas in the morning, to your singing to the twins, to your snuggling after making love. I’ll miss all of it.”

  Erin smiled. “I do not sing to the twins.”

  “Don’t lie. I caught you twice.” Melanie pulled back to meet her gaze. “You sing quite well too.”

  “Are you lonely during the winter?”

  “No more than any other times. I keep busy, Erin. It’s not like there’s nothing to do. The chickens still need tending, the goats. Meals still need to be cooked. But I have more leisure time.” She pulled out of her arms. “I watch TV, I’m on the Internet…things I normally don’t take time for during the summer.” She touched her cheek with a gentle hand, then leaned closer for another kiss. “Let’s don’t talk about you leaving. Okay? It’ll be here soon enough.”

  Chapter Forty

  Melanie gripped the sheet with both fists, her hips arching off the bed even as Erin tried to hold her down. The scream tore from her throat, but Erin didn’t relinquish her hold. Her head hit the pillow, her eyes squeezed closed as Erin’s mouth continued its glorious assault on her, finally slowing when she went limp on the bed.

  “No more,” she murmured, unable to open her eyes. “I’m going to pass out.”

  She heard Erin chuckle as her mouth nibbled against her hip, sending goose bumps down her legs. It had been so long since her affair with Courtney, she hardly remembered the act itself. She was fairly certain, though, that it had never been like this. And why would it? She’d been young, riddled with guilt even then, knowing what she was doing was wrong. She doubted she’d ever been able to fully relax when she was with Courtney. Now? She was a grown woman, single and unattached. She’d found she had no inhibitions and neither did Erin. Being together, like this, was effortless. She tugged Erin up to her, finding her mouth.

  “I must sleep,” she whispered after the kiss.

  Erin pulled the sheet and blanket over them, then lay down beside her, one arm curled protectively across her stomach. The window beside the bed was cracked open a bit, letting in cool, rain-soaked air. The persistent showers alternated between heavy and light—the wind calm, then fierce. Lightning flashed bright enough to light up the sky and thunder crashed across the bluffs and mountains, then tranquility followed and the only sound was the steady summer rain that she loved. Far away, over the hills, she could hear the low roar and knew another storm was coming. The calm rain would be displaced again soon. She’d slept through enough thunderstorms over the years to not be worried, but the rolling sound that was drifting down the mountain tonight seemed ferocious. Unconsciously, she tightened Erin’s arm around her.

  “Good night, Mel.”

  She opened her eyes at the whispered words, smiling in the darkness. “Good night, sweet Erin.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Erin woke with a start, finding Mel standing by the window, looking out. Loud thunder seemed to be still reverberating around them and she could hear the rain pounding against the glass.

  “Lightning hit the bluff behind the shed.”

  Erin rubbed her eyes. “Can’t believe I’ve been sleeping through this.”

  “It’s been off and on. Lots of rain.”

  Melanie had her sleep shirt on and a pair of shorts. “How long have you been up?”

  Mel glanced at the clock by her side of the bed. “Hour or so,” she said around a yawn.

  “Come back to bed.”

  “It’s nearly dawn.”

  “It’s storming. We won’t be going to let the chickens out anytime soon. Come back to bed.”

  Mel moved away from the window and removed her shorts before crawling under the covers. “I’m glad we put Bandito up.”

  “He wasn’t happy with us,” she reminded her.

  “I bet he is now,” she mumbled as she snuggled closer.

  Erin smiled and closed her eyes, listening to the rain as it splattered the glass. The piñon pine brushed the wall by their head, the wind tossing the branches forcefully against the cabin. They were safe and snug, though, and she relaxed as Mel burrowed against her, even as the storm continued to rage outside their window.

  Two hours later, they were woken by a horn blaring. They both sat up, looking around questioningly. Melanie was the first to move, tossing the covers off and hurrying out of the bedroom. Erin was still naked, and she looked about for her clothes before going out too.

  Stella was pounding on the door and Mel jerked it open.

  “Come quick! Those two giant ponderosas fell on Rachel’s house. We can’t get to her.” Stella touched her chest. “Lordy, we don’t even know if she’s okay. Her little house is nearly flattened.”

  “Oh, my God,” Melanie said in a rush. She turned to Erin, her eyes fearful. “We’ll need my chainsaw. Put on some jeans and boots.” She turned back to Stella. “Angela has a chainsaw too. Have you—”

  “Yes. I stopped by her house first. Please hurry, Mel. I’m so worried about Rachel.”

  “We’ll be right there, Stella.”

  Erin went into her old bedroom, finding a pair of jeans. By the time she was dressed, she heard Mel start up her truck. She hurried out, glad the rain had slowed to little more than a drizzle. Judging by the dark clouds, though, their rainstorms weren’t over with.

  The ground was wet and muddy and she followed Mel into the shed. It was still dark inside and when she turned the light on, the chickens started clucking from their roost. The goats were standing by the door, as if waiting for it to open.

  “Should I let them out?”

  “Better not. There’s more rain coming.” Mel handed her a jug. “Here, take the gas.”

  Erin took the red plastic jug from her, then watched as Mel lifted the chainsaw off a hook on the wall. She took a couple of tools from the pegboard and hurried out again, Erin following behind her.

  They didn’t talk as they bounced along the road, the many holes now filled with water. In one spot, she wasn’t even sure where the road was—it looked flooded—but Mel made it through without incident.

  The little driveway beside Rachel’s house was an array of colors as several of the ladies stood there with umbrellas open to ward off the drizzle. The house did indeed look flattened. Her breath caught as she stared at it. How in the world could Rachel have survived?

  “My God, you can’t even see the house.”

  Melanie slammed to a halt and was seemingly out the door before the truck even came to a stop. Angela was standing away from the others, her chainsaw resting on the ground by her feet.

  “I don’t even know where to start, Mel.”

  “Where’s her bedroom?”

  Stella pointed. “It’s on the back side. But there are so many branches, it’s just buried. I can’t even see if that part is standing or not. We’ve been calling out to her, but…”

  The giant trees, at their base, were at least five feet in diameter. She remembered them from her short stay here, guessing they were seventy or eighty feet tall. Rachel’s house was somewhere buried in the branches. Judging by the angle of the trees, the house had offered little resistance to their weight.

  “We’ll start cutting back there then.” Mel turned to the ladies who were standing by in hushed silence. “Whoever is able, start pulling the branches away as we cut.” Mel turned to her. “There should be some gloves behind my seat. If you could direct them. I’m not sure how much help they’ll be.”

  “I got it. Start cutting,” she said as she hurried back to the truck.

  “Hurry, Mel!” someone called.

  Soon, the sound of chainsaws buzzing filled the air and the sweet smell of freshly cut pine wafted about. It was slow going and some of the ladies were more in the way than helping. When Vivian tripped on a branch and tumbled to the ground, she went to help her up, then motioned them back.

  “Let me,” she said. “There’s too many of us. Once I get it away from Mel and Angela, you can drag it off. But we’re getting tangled
here. Someone could get hurt.” She looked to Stella for help.

  “She’s right. Let the young ones work. We’re just getting in the way.”

  Erin nodded her thanks as they moved away, some holding hands as they watched. Little by little, tree branches were removed, revealing more and more of the house. What was left of the house, she corrected herself. She tried not to think about poor Rachel, tried not to think about how mean she’d been to her at the beginning, how she’d run out on her, criticized her cooking, her coffee. Criticized everything, really.

  A loud rumble of thunder brought her head up. As she looked into the sky, it opened up, hard rain falling without concern for them or their plight. No, Mother Nature didn’t care, did she?

  The downpour sent some of the ladies scrambling for cover. She watched as Mel wiped the rain from her face before cutting another branch. As soon as it fell, Erin reached for it, tugging it along the ground away from Mel. It was a large, heavy branch and she struggled with it, moving it to the pile with the others. They were almost to the corner of the house now. Mel held her hand up, signaling to Angela to stop. They both killed their chainsaws, the silence now broken only by rumbling thunder.

  “Rachel! Can you hear me?” Mel yelled. “Rachel!”

  Everyone seemed to hold their breath at once, listening. There was no sound.

  “Rachel?” Angela tried. “Rachel?”

  Erin moved between them. “I think I can get to the house from here.”

  “No,” Mel said quickly, grabbing her arm. “It’s too dangerous. The more branches we cut away, the less support the tree has. It’s unstable as it is.”

  Yes, several large branches—stabbed firmly in the ground—seemed to be the only thing keeping the tree from flattening the house completely. Even as they watched she could see it shifting. She imagined she could hear the branches groaning against the weight of the tree. She met Mel’s gaze as the rain fell harder. The dark clouds seemed to swallow them and it was as if dusk had descended upon them already. A lightning bolt sizzled over their heads and in unison, they all ducked instinctively. The loud boom of thunder made the earth shake beneath her feet. She looked at Rachel’s house again. It was only going to get worse.