The thunder was just starting to grumble when the last bale was rolled. James and John Orrick took off their caps and wiped their foreheads, looking up at the sky. The sun still beat down relentlessly but it was coming. There was no sense denying it. “Just in time,” James commented, putting his cap back on his head.
Luke scanned the field. The surface of the huge round bales would protect the hay on the inside. Nothing would be lost today. As long as it was just a thundershower. Tornadoes weren’t common, but they happened now and again. And if he’d learned anything over the last nine years, it was that you simply had to accept the weather and roll with the punches. He thought of Emily and Sam again. They would be safe in the house. But he wanted to be home with them. To know they were there—warm and dry and safe. No matter how much he hadn’t wanted the responsibility of them, he felt it anyway. It would have been easier if it felt like a burden, but it didn’t. It felt right, and that was what had kept him up at night.
“Might as well head in, boys. Go home and shut your windows.”
Everyone laughed, but it was a tight sound. The air had changed, bringing a shushing sound with it. It was a restless sound, like the wind holding its breath.
They made their way back to the farmyard. The hanging baskets were off the hooks and tucked under the porch roof, their leaves limp in the midday heat. So Emily was aware of the impending storm. Luke’s stomach growled since he’d missed lunch, but at the same time a whicker sounded from the corral; Bunny and Fred and Caribou were still outside, nervous just like anyone else at the change in the air. Luke thought about letting them out into the pasture, but then scanned the clouds. If there was hail, he wanted them to be indoors. He forgot about lunch and went to put them in the barn, secured them in their stalls and soothed them with pats and fresh water. Back at the house, all was quiet. Sam was sitting at the table with a coloring book, scribbling busily at a picture of one of the latest superheroes.
Emily appeared at the dining-room door, smiling but he could see she was nervous underneath the cheerful exterior. “You’re back. Did you finish?”
“Just.” He turned his head towards the door. “You took down the baskets.”
“Hard to miss that change in the air. I hope it’s not bad. I’d hate for hail to take out the garden. Everything’s just starting to come along. Not to mention crops. Do you think it’ll be bad, Luke?”
He shrugged. “I hope not, but it’s out of my hands. The hay’s baled and the horses are in. That’s about all I can do. Maybe it’ll miss us altogether.”
The tension left her face at his reassurances. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be in. I made you a sandwich and put it in the fridge.”
Luke knew Emily had never been a farm wife, so how was it she seemed to know exactly what he needed and when? He washed his hands and sank into a chair as exhaustion finally crept in now that he’d stopped. He’d been going flat-out for days now and not sleeping well at night. He hadn’t visited his father in two weeks and felt guilty about it. He thought of Emily far too often and felt guilty about that as well. There was nothing to do right at this moment, though, and it all seemed to catch up with him. He drank a full glass of cool, reviving water before biting into the thick sandwich of sliced ham and cheese. As he swallowed the last bite, she quietly put a slice of rhubarb pie at his elbow.
“Thank you, Emily.”
“You’re welcome.”
There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance, and the leaves of the poplars twisted in the breeze. He took his dirty dishes to the sink. The hot breeze from the open window hit him in the face. He closed his eyes.
“Hey, Em? I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”
She came to the door, holding a red crayon in her hand. “Are you feeling all right?”
He smiled. “Just tired. It’s this heat. It just saps you.”
“Okay.”
He went to the living room and sank on to the plush cushions of the sofa, hanging his stocking feet over the arm. He closed his eyes. He’d get up in a few minutes, a short break was all he needed. His breaths deepened as he thought of all the little things Emily did, lifting his burdens and doing it with a smile. She had made the house like a home again, with voices and laughter and delicious smells.
It was just like it used to be, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Like when Dad came in from a tough day and Mom met him with a kiss and a cup of coffee…
Emily heard the deep breaths coming from the living room and her hand paused, the crayon a few inches from the paper. Luke was plain worn out. She’d seen it in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the tired way he’d sunk into his chair in the kitchen. She watched Sam color a comic-book character in his coloring book and exhaled, wishing the sultry air would clear. It was close, suffocating. The leaves on the trees tossed and turned now, restless in the wind coming before the storm. The weather was as unsettled as she was. Calm on the surface but churning inside.
Emily paced a few minutes, coming to stop at the door to the living room. She looked down at Luke’s face, relaxed in sleep. The scowl he wore so often was gone and his lips were open just the tiniest bit. He had long eyelashes for a man. She hadn’t realized it before, but watching him sleep gave her the chance to really examine his face. He snuffled and turned his head, revealing a tiny scar just behind his left ear.
How could she make it through two more months of this if she already felt the tugs of attraction after a handful of days? There had been no repeats of the kissing scene. Not even a glance or small touch. And still he was on her mind constantly. When she lay in bed listening to the frogs or when she was mixing up batter or taking clothes off the line. She replayed the kiss over and over in her head, remembering what it was like to feel desirable. To feel her own longings, emotions she’d thought quite dead and buried. She was starting to trust Luke. The world was not full of Robs. Deep down she’d always known it, but it was easier to think that than to face the truth.
Emily swallowed. A cold puff of air came through the windows, the chill surprising her. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. She hadn’t been enough to make Rob happy, and she wasn’t sure she could survive failing again. She was tired of apologizing for it. He had been selfish leaving when they might have worked it out. He hadn’t appreciated what he had…and now she looked down at Luke. Luke, who was so handsome he took her breath away. Luke, who had kissed her in the kitchen with his wide, strong hands framing her face and who said thank you for everything.
She turned away from Luke’s sleeping form. It was impossible she was even thinking such a thing. She shook her head. Didn’t she need to get Sam settled and her life in order first? Of course she did. She couldn’t lose sight of the goal. Self-reliance came first. She’d made a promise to herself and she meant to keep it. And a promise to Sam. To even think of indulging herself in what—an affair? Luke wasn’t interested in a relationship. In kids. He’d made it clear when he’d talked to her about what she was going to do when she left the ranch. Even entertaining the idea was selfish—thinking of herself rather than of what was best for Sam in the long run.
Emily had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the room growing dark. What had been distant rumbling was now persistent, grumbling rolls of thunder. A flash went through the room, like a distant camera flash, and seconds later the thunder followed. She hurried to check on Sam, who had put down his crayons and stared at her with wide eyes.
“Boomers comin’?”
“I think so, honey.”
Sam’s dark eyes clouded with uncertainty. Her boy tried to be brave and strong, but she knew he hated thunderstorms. “Don’t worry, okay? We’re snug as a bug here.”
Sam slid from his chair as another flash of lightning speared the sky. “I need to close the windows, Sam. It’s starting to rain and I don’t want things to get wet. You can come with me if you want.”