Amy knew what she was thinking. Rachel had their day’s take tucked in her leather case. It was a lot to lose, had the men been interested in money only.
“You ladies want me to call the sheriff?” The loner kept his stance and his distance like a protective wolf standing on the edge of a forest, ready to slip back in.
“No, it looks like the phone lines are down, too. I’ll stop by and see the deputy. I drive right by his place on my way home—”
Lightning flashed like stadium floodlights, eerily illuminating the parking lot and the three of them drenched with rain. Thunder exploded instantly and a tree limb on the other side of the alley crashed to the ground, smoking.
The rain increased so she had to shout to be heard. “This is dangerous. Get inside. I’ll—”
She didn’t get to finish her invitation for breakfast in the diner. The lightning returned and made every surface of her skin prickle. Here she was, standing up in the parking lot, and how dangerous was that? She yanked her car door open and dove into the seat, grateful for the shelter. Through the rain-streaked windshield, she could see her loner in the parking lot, a dark silhouette the storm seemed to revolve around.
Rain hammered harder, sluicing so fast down the glass she lost sight of him. When the water thinned for a second, he was gone. There was only wind and rain where he’d stood.
Good. He’d returned to his motel room, where he’d be safe. The car windows began fogging and she realized her fingers were like ice, so she started the engine and flipped the defroster on high.
In the parking spot beside her, Rachel’s old sedan came to life, too, the high beams bright as she put the car in gear, creeping forward as if to make sure Amy was okay.
Amy wasn’t okay, but she knew her sister wasn’t going to drive off and leave her sitting here. So she buckled up and put the car in gear. She ignored the groan of the clutch because it needed to be replaced and, after creeping forward, realized she needed both the wipers and the lights on.
Rachel’s car moved away and Amy followed her, steering through the downpour that came ever harder. But her gaze drifted to the rearview, where the motel ought to be. She couldn’t see it; there was only darkness. Remembering the loner and the way he’d stood as if he were already not a part of this world, she wished…she didn’t know what she wished. That he would find rest for whatever troubled him.
She would always be grateful he’d stepped between her and possible danger twice. Lord knew there had been times when that wasn’t always the case.
The rain pummeled so hard overhead, she couldn’t hear the melody of the Christian country station or the beat of the wipers on high as she let the storm blow her home.
“Mom!”
The instant Amy had stumbled through the front door, she’d been caught by her son. His arms vised her waist, and he held on tight, clinging for moments longer than his usual welcome-home hug as thunder cannoned over the roof and shook the entire trailer.
Oh, her sweet little boy, the shampoo scent of him, fresh from his bath, and the fabric softener in his astronaut pjs just made her melt. She feathered her fingers through his rich brown hair the color of milk chocolate and when he let go, he didn’t look scared. But his chin was up and his little hands balled tight. Westin was great at hiding everything, true to his gender.
Only she knew how storms scared him. The hitch in his breathing told her his asthma medicine was working. The image from earlier today of the needle pricking along his spine tore at her. Her little one had had a rough day, and she remembered how he’d set his jaw tight and not made a sound. Tears had welled in his eyes but he hadn’t let them fall.
Her tough little guy.
She knelt to draw him against her. “I figured you’d be sound asleep by now and I wouldn’t get to read you another chapter in your story like I promised.”
“The thunder kept wakin’ me up. It’s loud. So I just stayed awake.”
That was his excuse. Tough as nails, just like her dad had been. Every time she looked at him, she saw it, the image of her father, a hint that always made her remember the man who’d been twenty feet tall for her. Who could do anything.
There were the little things Westin did that would twist like a knife carved deep. In the innocent gestures, as he was doing now, chin up, arms crossed in front of his chest, all warrior. Tough on the outside, soft as butter on the inside. Yeah, he was just like her dad.
“Okay, tiger, it’s way past your bedtime. Get to your room and under your covers. I’ll be back in half a second.”
His big brown eyes stared up at her. She caught the flash of fear when it sounded as if golf balls were hitting the roof with the force of a hurricane, but she nodded, letting him know without words that she was here now. He might be cowboy-tough, but he was a little boy who needed his mother. She wouldn’t let anything hurt her little one.
“’Kay,” he agreed, “but hurry up! We got a light all set up and everything. Bye, Kelly!” he called to the woman in the shadows of the tiny kitchen.
“G’night, don’t let the bedbugs bite!” came the answer and then her cousin by marriage emerged from the dark with her coat in hand. Kelly slipped one arm into the raincoat’s sleeve and then the other. “Hi, Amy. I got the dishes put away, too, just to help out. If you want me tomorrow night, just give me a call. You know I can use the extra cash.”
“Sure.” Amy dug through her apron pocket and counted out a small stack of ones. Tips had been sparse with the state economy the way it was and they’d been even worse tonight.
She regretted that three-quarters of her tip money was already gone, but there were other places to cut corners. Her son’s care was not one of them. “Rachel wants to come over and spend time with him tomorrow, but if I have to work at night, I’ll give you a call. We’re still short-handed. Are you sure you don’t want a job at the diner?”
“It’s harder to do my school work and wait tables at the same time. I have a test Monday.” Kelly settled her backpack on one shoulder. It was heavy with college texts and notebooks.
Amy had wanted to attend college, too, like so many of her friends and cousins had. Sparkling-eyed freshmen going to classes and chatting over coffee and learning exciting new things. There were a lot of reasons that had kept her from that path, mostly her own choices and the fact that a college education took money neither she nor her family had.
She admired Kelly for sticking to the hard course. It couldn’t be easy working several jobs and studying, too. “Drive safe out there. The roads are slick.”
“I will. Heavens!” Kelly opened the door and the racket was deafening.
Hail punched the pavement and hammered off the row of trailers lined up in neat order along the dark street. Ice gleamed black as it hid lawns and driveways and flowerbeds starting to bloom.
The wind gusted and Amy wrestled the door closed. She pulled the little curtain aside and watched through the window in the door, making sure Kelly got to her car safely and it started all right. In a town where few people ever bothered to lock anything, Amy turned the dead bolt and made sure Kelly made it safely down the lane.
It’s just the storm, she told herself. That’s why she felt unsettled. But she knew that wasn’t the truth.
The hail echoed like continual gunshots through the single wide, and she circled the living room, dodging the couch. A thick candle, one she’d gotten for Christmas, sat in the center of the coffee table and shed enough light for her to see her way around an array of toy astronauts and space ships arranged in the middle of a battle. The windows were cold, streaked with ice and rain and locked up tight.
Amy knew it wasn’t the storm that bothered her. It was those two men tonight. The harsh, brash way they’d laughed over their