Authors: Trish Milburn
After explaining the origin of the Jack-in-the-pulpit’s name to the group, she looked up from her stooped position next to one of the hooded plants to find Reed watching her with a strange expression on his face, as if he were seeing her for the first time. She looked away, disconcerted by his gaze among a group of virtual strangers.
At the end of the hike, six of the eight guests signed up for her talk on Cade’s Cove scheduled for early the next day so they could hear some of the community’s background before heading to the park to tour it on their own. By the time she finished with her guests, she found Reed had drifted to the opposite end of the clearing, where he helped Chris move several wooden benches and logs into a circle around a fire ring where guests could roast hot dogs and marshmallows in the evenings.
The portable phone Chris had taken from the office interrupted their conversation. While Chris handled the phone call, Reed scanned the woods but didn’t look her direction.
A bit of her euphoria at being able to teach again dissipated. She had hoped he’d explain that look on his face back during the hike once the last of the guests left. With him obviously not ready to face her yet, she entered the office and after a call to check up on her dad she attempted to fill the rest of her day with mindless tasks. Even that proved frustrating when she sat down at her desk to find her computer wouldn’t start.
"Oh, don’t quit on me now." With her father’s medical bills mounting, the last thing she needed was to have to buy a new computer. She checked the cables in the back and followed the power cord to the outlet. Unplugged. Had Chris unplugged it because of the storm the afternoon was supposed to bring? She shook her head. He’d never done that before.
She figured she must have accidentally unplugged it with her foot at some point. But when she found some folders out of place, a cold ball of fear began growing in her stomach. Eddie. Had he been this close, in her office?
She thought back to the night before and shook with a sudden chill. Had Eddie been out in the woods watching them? It sickened her that he might have seen her and Reed kiss.
She walked to the front door and scanned the forest. Nothing looked out of place, but did that mean he wasn’t there, blending in like a chameleon? Shelly spotted Reed and Chris, safe and chatting like the oldest of friends as they worked. Thunder rumbled in the distance. When the rain came was soon enough to tell Reed about the oddities in the office, to let him decide if they were evidence that they were in immediate danger or if she was losing her grip.
After checking the locks on all the windows and the back door and finding them secure, she began to doubt her suspicions. No sign of forced entry. Had she simply bumped the power cord and forgot she moved the files? She sank into her chair, hating all the uncertainty weighing her down.
By mid-afternoon, thick, dark clouds began rolling in from the west, heralding the storms predicted that morning. Shelly stepped outside to tie up the bicycles. The wind, stronger than she anticipated, whipped the end of her ponytail around so that the ends stung her cheek. She pushed the hair out of her face only to have it fly back.
"Looks like it’s going to be a doozy," Chris said as he and Reed walked up.
"So it appears. You go on home. Nobody’s going to want to go out in this."
"You’re probably right. Let’s batten down the hatches."
"We’ll get it," she said.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Hurry before the storm hits."
"Okay," Chris said. "See you in the morning."
After Chris crossed the parking lot to his car, Reed asked, "What do you need me to do?"
"Tie up the rafts and tubes on the other side like I’m tying these bikes. Run the rope through them all, then tie it tight to the porch post. I don’t want them flying into the woods or off the cliff."
By the time they’d secured everything, the sky had darkened to a dangerous deep gray only a shade lighter than black, making it look much later than the actual hour.
"You have twisters up here?" Reed asked as he stared at the ominous sky.
"Rarely, but I remember a couple hitting nearby, though never in Bobcat Ridge."
Reed’s eyebrows bunched. "How do you see them coming?"
"We don’t. We depend on radar at the TV stations and the National Weather Service."
The first fat, hard drops of rain sent Shelly hurrying to make sure the few guests who weren’t out touring knew how to protect themselves if a tornado hit. After finishing their tasks, Shelly and Reed barely made it inside her cabin before the sky opened up, pounding her roof so hard conversation required raised voices.
Shelly clicked on the television and pointed out their location to Reed on the weather map. The meteorologist paced back and forth, face serious, as he indicated two strong lines of storms. Worry twisted Shelly’s stomach. The storm battering her cabin didn’t appear half as bad as those to come.
She increased the volume so she could hear the meteorologist’s words as he pointed to adjacent patches of green and red.
"We have at least two areas of potential rotation," he said.
"Either of those places near here?" Reed asked.
She jumped, not realizing he’d propped himself against the couch behind her. He’d leaned forward to speak close to her ear. The shiver that raced down her spine had nothing to do with potential tornadoes.
"One’s north, the other to the west," she said. "The first one will likely pass by. It’s the second one I’m worried about."
"I think I prefer being able to see it coming with my own eyes," he said.
At the moment, she had to agree.
The storm continued in waves, roaring like the devil himself one minute, quieting to gentler rain the next. Shelly busied herself with making an early dinner of pork chops, baked potatoes and fruit salad. Reed paced from the TV to the window and back. Even without psychic abilities, she knew what he was feeling. Troy had been the same way, uncomfortable in situations he couldn’t control. Reed couldn’t pull out a gun and demand the storm settle down.
The storm swelled again as Shelly placed the meal on the table. Just as she and Reed sat down, a loud boom and a bright flash heralded the immediate blackout.
"Good thing I went ahead and cooked," she said. "Otherwise, we’d be eating a chunk of Cheddar cheese and some sandwich bread for dinner."
"I’ve had worse," Reed said.
"No doubt your own cooking or those horrid drive-thru burgers you guys eat at three in the morning."
Her eyes growing accustomed to the dark, Shelly thought she caught a glimpse of a smile from Reed’s side of the table. Maybe the darkness was what he needed to talk to her. She certainly hoped he would—if they didn’t get blown away first.
The wind howled like an injured ogre, squalling around the corners of the cabin. Shelly noticed a flash of light out the corner of her eye and rose to go to the window.
"What is it?" Reed asked, his voice instantly wary.
"I saw something."
Before she could reach the window, he pushed her aside. He pulled his gun from his waistband and moved to the side of the window. She sensed the easing of his stance almost as soon as he took up the post.
"What?" she asked.
"Looks like we’ll be in the dark for a while," he said. "There are sparks falling from the transformer."
"Lightning must have hit it."
With no television to divert them, the prospect of spending hours in the dark with Reed made Shelly’s nerves spark like the transformer and her palms sweat. At least eating would take up part of the time. She fumbled in a kitchen drawer until she found a candle and matches. Positioned in the middle of the table, the candle bathed the cabin in a warm, wavering glow.
Shelly avoided sitting down to the unexpected candlelight dinner a little longer by calling the electric company to report the outage and turning on the battery-powered radio so they could monitor weather reports. Those tasks complete, she found herself out of excuses to avoid her meal and sat down to eat.
"Guess this must be how the mountain people had their dinner," she said, feeling a bit stupid that she couldn’t come up with anything better to say.
"Yeah, sure am glad the Edisons had a smart kid."
She smiled, thankful for the tension breaker. For a bit, they ate in silence.
"I was talking to some of the guests today," Reed said. "They mentioned Cades Cove. That’s the community you’re doing the program on tomorrow, right?"
Shelly relaxed more, armed with knowledge of a familiar topic. Had Reed brought it up to help alleviate the tension further? She nodded in answer to his question as she swallowed a bite of potato.
"It was a community until the Park Service acquired the land. No one lives there anymore, but it’s one of the most popular and beautiful places in the park."
As close as she was to the Cove, she hadn’t taken the scenic drive nor hiked there in months. The thought of sharing it with Reed sent a spurt of excitement through her.
Reed leaned back. "You enjoyed your hike today, didn’t you?"
"Yes. Thanks for suggesting it." She hesitated for a moment, then pressed on before she chickened out. "What was that look you gave me when I was stooped down there at the end?"
He shrugged. "I knew you liked all the nature stuff, but I never realized how much until I saw you today."
"How so?" Shelly leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table.
"The way your face lit up and how excited you got every time someone asked a question. You would have made a good teacher."
She shook her head. "Afraid not. I’d be worse than the kids about being stir crazy to go outside."
Reed smiled, the slight upturn of lips in the soft light enough to make Shelly’s heart pause a moment, as if to admire it.
"I can relate to that. I hate that more than half my time is spent behind a desk writing one damn report after another."
The mention of his job reminded Shelly about her concerns about the office. "Uh, Reed. I noticed a couple of things earlier that might be nothing, but I thought I’d mention them."
He sat forward, all seriousness. "What?"
She told him about the cord and the files. "It might have been Chris. I didn’t get to ask him earlier. Knowing me lately, I did it and don’t remember."
Reed didn’t look convinced. "I’ll check out the office just to make sure."
A loud crash of thunder shook the cabin. A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the swaying trees outside, making her wish the cabin had shutters.
"It’s getting really rough," Shelly said, apprehension rising with the wind. "I can’t remember the last time we had a storm this bad."
On the radio, an emergency announcement broke in to report a tornado warning. Another bone-jarring crash made Shelly jump as if a bomb had exploded right behind her. "I think that was something hitting the cabin."
Reed stood and started across the living area. Before he reached the window, however, a large tree limb shot through the glass.
Shelly screamed, then rushed to Reed’s side. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It missed," he said, looking down at the severed arm of a maple.
"Come on," she said as she dragged him toward her bedroom, pausing only long enough to blow out the candle so it wouldn’t catch her cabin on fire. Once in her bedroom, she sank to her knees in front of her closet and started tossing out shoes.
Having grown up in Tornado Alley, Reed didn’t question her. Instead, he grabbed the flashlight from her nightstand and followed her into the cramped quarters.
"If this is what you bring me when you visit, you can just stay home next time." Shelly punched Reed playfully in the arm.
"You know, I could say something about the type of weather you provide your guests."
Before she had time to respond, a vicious howl of wind and more banging stilled her. She strained to determine if the rest of the cabin was being ripped away. Would they step out after the storm to find the closet the only part of her home standing? Would the storm do Eddie’s work for him? She prayed none of the guests were injured, or worse.
"Oh, God," she murmured.
Reed reached out in the dark and pulled her to him. "It’s okay. It’ll be over soon."
Thankful she couldn’t see his face, nor he hers, she snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her heart filled nearly to bursting, grateful she didn’t have to wait out the storm alone, glad for Reed’s solid body next to hers. She pulled slightly away, looking up to where she thought Reed’s face should be. He stiffened in response to her movement.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice cautious.
"Other than the wind howling like a scalded banshee, no. I’m just...glad you’re here."
For a moment, Shelly wished she could see Reed’s face. It was impossible to read him in the pitch black of her closet floor. But she didn’t have to see him to know he was feeling trapped, even more so than he had in the outer room.
"I want to apologize," he said suddenly, a little louder than he probably intended.
"For what?"
"For how I acted last night, for what I said. I would never hurt you, you know that."
"Yes, I do."
"It’s just that I felt...well..."
"Guilty." She knew the feeling all too well. That guilty demon had been her constant companion when she’d tried to find some happiness in her life again.
"Yeah," he said, sounding resigned and very tired.
Shelly reached out in the dark and found his cheek, cupped the strong jaw with her palm. "You don’t have to feel guilty."
He tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip with the arm still around his waist. "No, don’t."
"It’s not right, Shelly. Troy was my best friend."
"And he was my husband. I loved him, but I don’t think he’d want me to be a nun the rest of my life. You knew him longer than I did. Do you honestly think he’d want this, you still mourning him two years after his death? Troy loved life, and you did too once upon a time."
"I want that, I really do, but I don’t know how to find it again."
"You just grab it when you have the chance." She stroked his cheek with her fingertips and was surprised to find moisture. Reed Tanner wasn’t a crying man. That tears had escaped revealed the depth of his pain.