She leveled him a doubtful scowl that suggested he curb his tongue for good.
A flash of understanding pierced his conscience. Dave recalled every syllable of the conversation with Calvin. When he spotted Eddi, she had been standing just around the porch corner. No telling how long she’d been there, he thought, and he wondered if she overheard his negative comments.
Guilt stabbed his gut. Dave had been scrambling like a trapped calf to come up with a list of reasons why he shouldn’t ask out Eddi Boswick. He’d been shocked that Calvin hadn’t laughed him to scorn when he said she was too short, too prissy, and classless.
She struggled to her knees and attempted to stand. Dave grabbed the side of an overturned table and gained his footing, even though his aching back suggested he not stand straight. He rubbed at his stinging arms and face, and his palms came away lined with grit.
“I guess I’m covered in dirt,” he said, his voice unsteady.
Eddi staggered across the porch like a one-legged sailor and stopped beside a high-heeled sandal, imbedded in the edge of the limb. Dave glanced down at her feet; one was without its shoe.
“Yes, you’re covered,” she said. Her lips tight, she struggled into the other shoe and stared at him as if he were about as interesting as a fence post. “You look like you’ve been slimed or something, actually,” she added, no smile in sight.
“Oh, wow, thanks,” Dave said with a grin as wobbly as his legs. “You do know how to flatter, don’t you?”
“You should feel like you’re in good company, then.” She marched toward the parlor door.
Dave winced and stopped wondering if she’d heard what he said to Calvin. Oh well, he thought, might be for the best. He rubbed his gritty neck and relished the fact that no woman’s noose rested there. Dave Davidson was still a free man.
“I’m going in to see if anybody was hurt,” Eddi said and snapped open the parlor door.
“My guess is if we weren’t, they couldn’t have been. We came close to kissing that baby.”
Rapid footsteps from the backyard preceded Calvin’s voice. “Dave?” he bellowed.
“We’re right here,” Dave responded and attempted to peer through the branch that had ruptured the porch railing. He caught glimpses of his friend’s blue shirt through the leaves as Calvin rounded the porch.
“Oh, my dear!” Mrs. DeBloom’s aghast exclamation floated from the parlor. “You look absolutely wretched.”
“I feel it,” Eddi said as she slumped against the doorjamb.
Dave stifled the urge to rush to Eddi’s side and hold her up. Despite his calm facade, his legs were weakening. He began doubting his ability to hold himself up—let alone her.
“And what about Dave?” Mrs. DeBloom’s urgent inquiry brought on Dave’s response.
“I’m fine, Aunt Maddy,” he called.
She appeared in the doorway, next to Eddi, her hair like tufts of cotton candy around her smudged cheeks. Her moist eyes brightened like bits of blue sky in a lined face drawn with anxiety.
“I am so relieved.” She covered her lips with her fingertips. Mrs. DeBloom stepped toward Dave and then turned to Eddi. She looked back at Dave and posed a silent question.
“I’ll be okay,” he said. “Calvin’s coming for me.”
His aunt grasped Eddi’s arm and walked into the parlor.
Calvin took the porch steps two at a time, all the while watching Dave as if he were a space alien. “Are you okay, man?” Calvin asked and gripped Dave’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Dave grunted. He noticed a nasty gash along Calvin’s jaw that oozed beads of blood. “Yow!” Dave winced. “Looks like you didn’t come out without a fight.”
His friend ran a finger along his injury and flinched. “We left the storm cellar door open as long as we could waiting on you two. But when we finally decided we had to shut the door, I jumped to it. I’d love to say this was some sort of hero’s wound, but I actually tripped and scraped my chin on the steps. Really, I was so worried about you and Eddi, I was hardly thinking.” Calvin’s ginger-brown eyes rounded in candid certainty.
“We survived okay, I guess,” Dave said. He glanced toward the parlor and noticed Eddi slumped on the sofa near the doorway. Dave’s legs wobbled, and he decided he’d better join her. He rubbed the small of his back where that planter had landed and stumbled forward. “Sounds like everybody made it in the cellar okay.”
“Yep, everybody but you two.” Calvin moved closer and placed an arm around Dave’s body.
The increasing tremors suggested he not reject his friend’s assistance.
“What happened?” Calvin asked.
“Eddi was trying to get into the house to warn Aunt Maddy and the rest. I wound up dragging her away from the door. We were trying to make it off the porch and around to the storm cellar. But by that time, the tornado was nearly on top of us.”
“You saw it?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. Closing his eyes, he leaned against Calvin and reflected upon his own mortality. Raw horror blazed through him as if he were seeing the tornado all over again. “We watched it go down the hill. It took the roof off the theater and tore up some housetops. I hope nobody was killed.”
“Let’s just get you inside,” Calvin urged. “You’re going pale on me. I don’t want you to go into shock or anything.”
Dave attempted to wave aside his friend. “I’m going to be okay,” he protested with a gruff edge. “You’ve seen one tornado, you’ve seen ’em all.”
“Not when they’re sucking at your collar,” Calvin said.
Dave stumbled into the parlor, and glass crunched under his boots. Nearing the sofa, he perused the shattered row of windows at the front of the parlor and frowned. Not only were the windows sucked out, the large mirror on the south wall was shattered across the floor.
“Everybody okay in here?” Cheri Locaste, a high school English teacher, stepped into the parlor as the rest of the group tumbled out the front door.
“Yes, I believe so,” Madelynne DeBloom said. “You people go on and make sure none of your houses were damaged. Tell everyone I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay, I will.” Cheri eyed Eddi and Dave while attempting to untangle her waist-length ponytail. “Someone said they think the theater took a hit.”
Mrs. DeBloom’s eyes rounded, and she pivoted to face Cheri. “Oh no.”
“Yes, it did,” Dave affirmed. “Eddi and I saw it take the roof off.”
“Oh no,” Mrs. DeBloom repeated. “Whatever will we do about the play?” She waved her hand and shook her head. “Oh well, we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now . . .” She turned back toward her nephew. “Here, Calvin,” Mrs. DeBloom adjusted a pillow, “let him sit by Eddi,” she suggested as if Dave were a five-year-old.
Dave lowered himself onto the couch near Eddi and rested his head on the back. His ears ached; the tornado’s roar echoed in his memory. He closed his eyes but all he could see was a white-tailed demon dancing a hundred yards away. All he could feel was the funnel’s suction and the panic that he and Eddi were history. Dave covered his gritty face with both hands and commanded himself to get a grip. He pressed his fingers against his eyes and shook his head.
“Okay, that’s it,” he mumbled and made a determined effort to clear his mind. The time had come to start acting like a man. “I need to get out to the ranch and see if there was any damage there.” He opened his eyes and stared through the glassless windows.
“I wonder if my truck is okay,” he added, and couldn’t stop the tremors that assaulted his hands, no matter how much mind control he asserted.
“Oh, and my car,” Eddi groaned and struggled against the sofa’s cozy folds. “I just got it out of the body shop last week after a drunk woman ran into it in the Walmart parking lot.” She stood and wobbled in her high heels.
Dave glowered at her feet. “Why don’t you take those heels off, woman?” he growled and stood.
“For the same reason you aren’t taking off
your boots,” she snapped. “There’s glass all over the floor. Or haven’t you noticed?”
Calvin chuckled, and Dave issued him a silent dare.
“I’m not so sure you two need to be walking around right now.” Mrs. DeBloom fussed as she flitted from Dave to Eddi and back again.
“I’m going to be fine,” Dave asserted. “I’m just a little shook up. That’s all. We just got the living daylights scared out of us.”
“We all did,” Madelynne agreed as Eddi moved toward the entryway. “I was scared to death the tornado got you.” Her voice wavered, and she released a garbled hiccough.
Dave turned toward the woman who had been a mother to him for the last sixteen years. “I’m not going to check out on you, Aunt Maddy,” he said with a weak smile. He hugged his aunt and held her for a tight squeeze. Her ever-present Tea Rose perfume convinced him that nothing had really changed. “Don’t you know I’m too ornery for any tornado?”
She clung to him and trembled. A decisive sniffle attested to her gaining control of her emotions. “I guess I need to go outside with everybody and see what’s happened to the house.”
“Yes. Let’s go,” Dave said.
“Oh, dear,” Madelynne fussed, “if the theater roof is gone, where will we have the first practice?”
“We can have it at my house as long as you need to,” Dave said before he thought through his offer. That would mean he’d be forced to put up with these literary types for weeks—including Eddi Boswick. And he’d be giving his aunt ample opportunity to squeeze him into the part as Darby or Darcy or whatever the guy’s name was.
Eddi steadied herself against the side of the arched doorway that led into the entry. Calvin neared from behind and placed a hand along her waist. He spoke something that resembled an inquiry about her equilibrium. Eddi shook her head and moved from his clasp. As Calvin trailed her into the entryway, Dave recalled the feel of Eddi in his arms. He clenched his teeth and wondered how long it would take him to forget her crying against him.
“I guess what I need to do now,” he said, “is see if my truck is okay and then head on home. Here I am offering my house as a place to practice, and for all I know the whole thing might be blown away.” His sprawling ranch house and four hundres acres rested just on the other side of the peach orchard. There were no guarantees that the twister hadn’t bounced around awhile before they spotted it.
“I pray it’s not.” Mrs. DeBloom eyed her shattered windows. “Have you noticed the dining room?” She pointed to the place where they all had filled their plates minutes before. Like the parlor, the windows had been sucked out. The carpet was soggy. And the chicken sandwiches along with the rest of brunch were plastered against the north wall like a mixed-up smorgasbord. A sweet and sour odor testified to the wide array of cuisine.
“Holy toledo,” Dave mumbled.
“I know,” Madelynne agreed. “I’m going to need a place to stay until I can get the house repaired. “I hope your place wasn’t hit. What will we do if we don’t have a place to go?”
Dave rested an arm around his aunt’s rigid shoulders and leaned toward her ear. “Aunt Maddy, don’t worry,” he whispered. “You know I’ll cover it. Either you can stay at my house or I’ll put you up in a hotel.” With every minute that passed, Dave’s heart pumped new strength into his body. He gave his aunt’s shoulders a squeeze. The regal woman felt small and frail in his grasp, even though she nearly matched his six-foot frame.
Mrs. DeBloom gripped Dave’s free hand and nodded. “I know, but sometimes I forget. I guess I just needed to be reminded.” She smiled into her nephew’s eyes. “You’ve been better to me than a dozen sons.”
“And you deserve it all and more,” Dave affirmed, glad to be the one who kept his aunt in the lifestyle she enjoyed her entire married life. No shock had been greater for her than examining her late husband’s portfolio and discovering he had amassed as much debt as he had assets. All Madelynne had left was her air of status—until Dave made his fortune.
In companionable silence, the two followed Eddi and Calvin onto the front porch. The rain had stopped and white tuffs of harmless clouds lazed across the sky. The air smelled as if only the gentlest of spring rains had fallen. At the base of the hill, the whole town milled about the debris-ridden streets and assessed the damage. Dave paused long enough to peer toward the theater. A group of men neared a crumble of shingles and wood that blocked Main Street. Nearby, the Lone Star Theater stood decapitated.
Mrs. DeBloom’s tremorous sigh preceded her claim. “I can’t look at it. I just can’t!”
Dave steered her off the porch and picked his way across the front yard cluttered with leaves and shingles. When they rounded the house, they nearly ran into Eddi Boswick and Calvin beside the parked vehicles.
“This is too weird for words,” Eddi was saying as she examined her shiny red Mustang. “I don’t think there’s a scratch on it.”
Dave scrutinized his Chevy pickup twenty feet away. “Would that we were all so lucky,” he grunted as he took in the monster-of-a-limb embedded in his windshield. He stepped around Eddi’s Mustang toward his truck.
“Which one’s your vehicle?” Eddi asked.
“The blue Chevy pickup,” Dave said grimly. “The one with the limb shoved through the windshield.” He looked toward the pine tree about ten feet away. Several low limbs had been twisted off as if the massive trunk were a mere flower stem. A quick survey of the unharmed parked cars revealed that he was the lucky guy who was blessed with one of the limbs.
“Ooo, that looks awful,” Eddi said. Her high heels crunched into the gravel as she neared from behind.
Dave placed his hands on his hips and walked the remaining steps toward his beloved vehicle. While he could buy a whole fleet of the things, he liked this truck. It had served him well for three years, and he held no plans of replacing it.
“Looks like it’s just the windshield,” Dave admitted and rounded the cab to the driver’s side. He gripped the offending limb with both hands, ground his teeth, and hauled it out. Bits of glass toppled inside the cab and scattered across the hood with a series of clinks. As Dave shoved the sizable limb to the ground, a stab of pain erupted from his spine. He bit back a groan, hung his head, and grabbed the small of his back.
“Are you going to be okay?” Eddi neared and placed her hand on his arm.
Dave stepped away. “I’m fine,” he groused.
“Uh, do you . . . need a ride anywhere?” Eddi asked. “Do you think you ought to go to the doctor?”
The pain subsided, and Dave barely looked at her. He didn’t miss the impact of damp hair and gray eyes as large as a traumatized child’s. An unexpected masculine instinct urged him nearer to this lovely lady he’d felt such a strong desire to protect.
“No thanks,” he bit out and decided his better option was to run in the opposite direction. “No doctor for me—not right now, anyway. Aunt Maddy and I are just going to drive out to my ranch to check and see if it was hit. We’ll take her Cadillac. It’s in the garage.”
“Oh, well then, all right,” Eddi answered.
Dave busied himself unlocking his door but noticed that she had yet to leave. Once he opened the truck, he pointed a direct stare at her and raised his brows in silent query.
All traces of resentment had vanished from Eddi Boswick. Only gratitude and a hint of repentance crossed her face. “I just realized I never thanked you for protecting me,” she offered. “I’m afraid your back injury was a direct result. Didn’t that pot of elephant ears fall on you?”
“I’ve been hit by worse than a pot of elephant ears. Last week, one of my longhorns gave me a shove. That bull made the pot seem like a flea.”
“Okay, then,” Eddi answered as if she didn’t quite know what else to say.
Dave eyed her red toenails peeking out from the ends of those strappy sandals that hugged her arched feet. Right now even her toenails looked good. Everything about her looked good, down to her messy hair a
nd smeared lipstick. All he could think about was the way her hair smelled when he buried his face next to her neck . . . and her warmth . . . and the fact that he’d really wanted to kiss her once that tornado disappeared.
Then he’d acted like a teenager and made that flippant remark about the tornado possibly returning. No telling what impression he’d made. Maybe she thought he was hinting about starting a relationship. His throat tightened, and Dave rubbed the front of his dirt-splattered shirt. He needed to put an end to any hopes Eddi Boswick had about the future.
“Besides,” he finally said and kicked at a spattering of glass along the running board, “any decent guy would have protected you.” He allowed his gaze to trail up to her mud-streaked face. Dave looked into those gentle gray eyes and forced himself to be tough.
“So don’t get your hopes up,” he added with cold resolve.
She gasped. Her eyes sparked with mute fury. The results were exactly what Dave hoped for—despite the softness a woman like Eddi Boswick could offer. The tempting thought ushered in Calvin’s prediction that Dave would be begging for Eddi’s attention by summer’s end. Calvin’s assertion couldn’t be ignored. The last thing Dave needed was allowing this lawyer to make him go soft.
Some men aren’t meant to be tamed, he added to himself, and I’m one of them . . . no matter how good-lookin’ the tamer is. He peered past Eddi to observe the east side of Huntington House, where the chimney top was now a crumpled mass of brick on the ground.
“Have you said all you wanted to say?” Dave looked down at his driver’s seat, covered in shards of glass. “I’ve got a lot to do, and Aunt Maddy is upset.”
When he looked up, Eddi was stomping toward her car, her back stiff. By the time he shut his cab door, she was backing out of the driveway. She didn’t even look at him when she sped by.
“More power to her,” he mumbled and could only imagine what the summer was going to be like, especially if they started play practices at his house.
Was I out of my mind when I offered? he thought.
Dave watched his sixty-five-year-old aunt standing near Calvin. Her fingertips pressed against her lips, she observed the flurry of activity at the bottom of the hill. The community was wasting no time restoring order from chaos. Dave’s heart softened. He’d do anything in the world for the woman who took in him and his kid brother when their parents were killed—even if it meant suffering literary torture in his own home . . . or facing the threat and lure of a sassy lawyer.
First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice Page 3