Authors: Beth Cornelison
"Seems ole Clyde's knee was right," she muttered, tossing back her covers and heading out to join her landlady. By the sound of the wind and rain, this storm wouldn't let her get back to sleep anytime soon.
Claire rubbed her eyes, which still felt swollen and gritty from all the crying she'd indulged in over the past couple days. With the reminder of her heartache, a fresh bolt of pain streaked through her like lightning.
She'd fallen asleep puzzling over the incongruity of Kevin taking her father's money. She supposed she could understand how tempting a large check would be. Kevin had struggled to make ends meet his whole life. Why shouldn't he take the offer of easy money when he had the chance?
Maybe she'd been foolish to think Kevin had deeper feelings than basic friendship and a sexual itch that she'd managed to scratch for him Friday night. Yet that argument didn't sit well either. The warmth in his eyes when they'd made love reflected deep feelings, genuine affection. But was it love?
Claire swallowed the lump that tightened her throat. She refused to cry again. Kevin had made his decision, and it was time to move on. She'd survive. She had no other choice.
Mrs. Proctor had her television on in the kitchen as she shuffled about, filling a kettle to put on the stove.
"Wide band of severe storms passing through the area..." the grim-faced blonde woman on the screen was saying.
"No kidding," Mrs. Proctor told the TV with a snort.
"Are you heating enough water for two?" Claire asked.
"Oh, Claire. I didn't hear you come in. 'Course, a body can't hear herself think what with all the racket outside. Sit down, honey. I'll have us both some tea in a minute."
Claire took Mrs. Proctor's arm. "You sit down. I'll get the tea."
"I can—" Mrs. Proctor started in her typically defensive tone.
Claire smiled and cut in, "I know you can. But this time, let me wait on you."
Quirking a lopsided grin, Mrs. Proctor nodded and hobbled over to the kitchen chair. "I'd like lemon and honey in mine, please."
"Consider it done." Claire opened the refrigerator, welcoming the task that kept her hands busy if not her mind. Her thoughts strayed relentlessly back to Kevin and the empty place his absence left in her soul.
"We have a report of a funnel cloud in the southern part of the county. Residents in this area are urged to take shelter immediately."
Claire turned her attention to the television, then sent a concerned glance to Mrs. Proctor. "Looks like we haven’t seen the worst of this storm. Do you have a place in mind to go in case we have to take cover?"
"My Ernest always said the bathtub was the best place in this house."
"...away from windows," droned the weather announcer. "People living in mobile homes should move to a ditch outside or take cover in designated emergency shelters."
Claire's breath caught.
Mobile homes...
"Kevin," she breathed.
Either Mrs. Proctor heard her or her elderly friend's thoughts followed her train of thought. The older woman's gaze clouded, and she pursed her lips. "I'm...sure he'll be all right." But the woman's tone said otherwise.
A coil of tension wound through Claire's chest, and her heart tapped like a warning signal in Morse code. For what felt like several minutes, she stared blankly at the weather report, listening to the advisories grow more ominous while her concern for Kevin's safety mounted.
"His television only gets one station, and it's not a local channel." She bit her fingernail, while her thoughts raced. "And he doesn’t have a phone, so we can’t call to check on him."
"All he has to do is look out the window, and he'll know how bad the storm is," Mrs. Proctor countered.
The kettle shrieked as its contents reach a boil, jarring her already taut nerves. Claire moved it off the stove. She shouldn't worry about Kevin. Hadn't he survived plenty of storms before she'd hit town? Besides, the worst of the storm was still far south of them.
"Driving out in this weather would be crazy," she muttered, thinking aloud. "So why am I even considering going after him?"
Mrs. Proctor gave her a smug grin. "Because you love him."
C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN
Rain slashed against her windows, and powerful winds pushed Claire's little Bug all over the road as she squinted to see the highway in the darkness.
"This is nuts," she grumbled, squeezing the steering wheel the same way nervous tension gripped her chest.
"Could you live with yourself if you didn't go?"
Mrs. Proctor had asked her when Claire mounted a feeble protest against the idea of going after Kevin.
The short answer had been a resounding
no
.
No matter what had happened with her father, no matter how Kevin had hurt her, no matter how dangerous it would be to drive out in the raging storm, she loved Kevin. She had to know he was safe, and she would do what she had to for his sake.
Jagged streaks of lightning sliced through the sky, and thunder growled in answer as Claire scanned the side of the road for Kevin's trailer.
When she spotted it at last, she parked near his motorcycle and, leaving her engine running, made a run for the steps. In seconds, she was drenched.
"Kevin!" She pounded on the door while rain dripped in her eyes and the howling wind sent a chill to her bones. "Kevin, open up!"
What felt like eons passed before Kevin appeared at his door, rubbing his face and blinking at her with drowsy eyes.
"Claire?" He looked past her to the snarling weather and frowned. "God, it's pouring. What are you—?"
"Get dressed," she interrupted and pushed her way inside.
He arched an eyebrow and looked down at the jeans he was wearing. His casual manner irritated her. He'd obviously been asleep, unaware of the storm or unconcerned about the danger. Seeing him for the first time since overhearing his conversation with her father sent a fresh wave of fury through her. Especially when he seemed so unaffected by either the weather or recent events.
"Are we going somewhere? In this?" He waved a hand toward the downpour.
"I didn't drive over here for my health." She pointed toward his bedroom with a huff. "Hurry up. The storm is making me jumpy, and I want to get back to Mrs. Proctor's as soon as we can."
He gave her a lopsided grin that grated her raw nerves.
"The
storm's
making you jumpy? That's a relief. For a minute, I thought you were mad at me about something. So..." He dragged a hand through his rumpled hair. "Tell me again why we're heading out in this monsoon?"
She balled her hands. The ingrate. "I
am
mad at you, but we'll save that discussion for later. Meantime, there are tornados south of here, and every indication has the worst stuff heading our way. So get moving, will you?"
He furrowed his brow. "You're mad at me? Why?"
"Later, Kevin!" She swiped at the rain that dripped from her hair into her face. "Right now we gotta get you out of this...this tornado magnet!"
His face hardened. "I see."
"We're going back to Mrs. Proctor's where it's safe."
"I'll be fine here. Thanks anyway." His tone was clipped, cool.
A bolt of lightning crashed close enough to make the hair on her nape rise. She yelped, and a shiver chased through her. The added jolt of adrenaline fueled her impatience.
"Damn it, Kevin. Come on!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him outside with a strength fed by fear. "I'm wet and scared, and I'm not going to debate this with you. Get your butt in my car!"
"Hey! I don't even have shoes on!"
"You had your chance to get dressed. You wasted it arguing with me." Something harder than rain hit her on the head. "Ow! What–"
"Hail," Kevin said, now pushing her along and into the Bug.
He circled the front fender and climbed in the passenger side. "Geez, it
is
nasty out here. Isn't it?"
She glared at him. "No kidding!"
She heard the sarcasm in her tone but didn't care. He'd hurt her and deserved to know it. She twisted in her seat to look out the back window as she negotiated out of his driveway.
"Want to tell me why I'm on your hit list?"
"Like you don't know." The hail picked up and hammered the roof of her Bug. "My car! Dang it, the hail's denting it all up!" She sent him another dark look. "How could you sleep through this?"
He shrugged and held a puzzled gaze on her. "I was tired. I'd had a long day at the store."
She only grunted in response then focused her efforts on keeping the car on the road.
"If you're so mad at me, then why'd you drive out in this mess to save me from my...
tornado magnet
?"
She spared him a glance, then gritted her teeth. "Can we talk about it sometime when I'm not trying to keep us from running off in a ditch?"
He sighed. "Sure. Whatever."
The rumble of thunder and drumming of hail and rain filled the tense silence that fell between them. Claire wanted to scream simply for the lost camaraderie they'd shared. Kevin had been her friend when she needed one most. When the silence became unbearable, she snapped, "Didn't Friday night mean anything to you? How could you—"
"Quiet!"
"What!" His rudeness heaped outrage on her simmering anger. "Don't tell me to—"
"Will you hush a minute?" Kevin clapped a hand over her mouth and sat up straighter in the passenger seat. A strange wary look crossed his face. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
He jerked his head toward the rear window and bit out an uncharacteristically harsh obscenity. "Pull over!"
Fear flooded her gut. "Wh—What—"
He grabbed the wheel and yanked it. Knocking her foot aside with his, he stomped the brake. The car skidded to a halt in the grass on the side of the road.
"Get out and get down!" His tone brooked no arguments.
As she scrambled out of the car, a roaring unlike anything she'd ever heard shook the ground. When she looked down the road, stunned by the horrible noise, a flash of lightning illuminated the turbulent sky.
And the tornado bearing down on them.
***
Kevin lassoed Claire around the waist and pulled her toward the ditch at the side of the road. "Get down and cover your head!"
The raging wind whipped debris and leaves around their heads. Kevin turned with a jerk when a loud crack reverberated through the darkness. With a
boom
, a large tree fell across the road a few yards from them. The roar of the wind carried away Claire's scream. When she hesitated, he shoved her to her knees and followed her down, covering her with his body. Icy needles of rain pelted them, drove the chill of dread deep into his skin.
This could be bad.
"Kevin!" The fear he heard in Claire's cry wrenched inside him.
"We'll be all right," he shouted in her ear. "Just stay down! Hold onto me!"
She grabbed his arms while he held an exposed root. He hunkered down and prayed hard.
The next minutes passed in slow motion. In double-time. In a chaotic blur of sound and fury. The din of the storm increased to a deafening level, and the wind's wrath sucked the breath from him. Debris rained down on them like shrapnel, and the earth trembled beneath them.
It was the longest two minutes of Kevin's life.
When the wind died down and the terrible rumbling faded, Kevin rolled off Claire and sat up to survey the damage. Trees, snapped in half like toothpicks, littered the field across from them. Scraps of paper and splintered wood covered the ground as if a tickertape parade had passed through instead of a malevolent twister.
Claire raised her head, her breathing shallow and choppy, terrified. "Kevin?"
"It's okay. It's over." He pulled her into his arms and clung to her. He didn't want to think what could have happened if she'd been even a minute later heading down this rural road to come after him. She'd risked life and limb to see that he was safe. Knowing that both filled his heart to bursting and scared the hell out of him.
She peeked up at him and gasped. "You're bleeding!"
When she touched a tender spot on his forehead, he winced and grabbed her hand. "It's just a cut. Something must have hit me." Her eyes brimmed with tears, and stroking her cheek, he gave her his best smile. "It's nothing, Claire. I'm okay."
His hands continued a restless search of her face and arms as he assured himself she, too, was unharmed.
When she turned in his arms to scan the area, she drew another sharp breath then moaned. "My car!"
He followed her gaze and spotted her Bug, upside down, a good distance from where they’d abandoned it.
"Can you believe the power of the wind to..." Claire shuddered. "Oh, God." She wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at him, her eyes wide with horror and shock.
They stared at each other for a minute, communicating their common disbelief of what had just happened to them. A light rain continued falling, though in the wake of the tornado, the wind had eerily calmed.
"N-now what do we do?" she asked.
"Well, your car's not going anywhere tonight. So I guess we walk." He pushed to his feet and offered her a hand up.
While she found her balance on clearly unsteady legs, he peered down the road through the dim night in the direction of his home. A dark apprehension settled over him. Barefooted, he started jogging down the highway without waiting for Claire. Within half a mile, he rounded a curve, passed a mangled copse of trees and had his worst fear confirmed.
In the flicker of the distant lightning, he surveyed the wreckage that used to be his trailer. A sick finality settled over him, a feeling more ominous and devastating than the storm that had just blown through. He heard the slap of Claire's sandals on the pavement and glanced back at her as she approached.
With a harsh laugh, one with no humor, he swiped rain-soaked hair back from his eyes. "Well, I guess it's official. I now have nothing but the shirt on my back. No, wait...I'm not wearing a shirt. Or shoes. My mistake."