Still, as Rivers watched Paxton hitch the team, she hoped this would be the day Jolee tasted of Weston’s kiss. Her own heart leapt with excitement in anticipation for her dear friend.
“What’re ya grinnin’ about?” Paxton asked as he helped Rivers onto the buckboard.
“Nothing,” she said.
Paxton clicked his tongue, and the team lurched forward. “She’s lookin’ better,” he commented.
“Yes. At last,” Rivers sighed, feeling the familiar pangs of guilt in her bosom.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Paxton said. She didn’t respond. “Jolee should’ve known better. I’ve been bit a couple a times myself, and I’ve warned her over and over again. It ain’t a fun thing to go through. But it sure ain’t the worst.”
Rivers didn’t want to discuss Jolee’s misery any longer, so without thinking, she blurted out the first question that came to mind.
“Why haven’t you ever courted anybody since Ruby, Paxton?” Immediately, she regretted her thoughtless question. She looked over at the man driving the team, but there seemed to be no expression of any emotion on his face.
“That’s a heck of a question to be comin’ from you,” he growled finally. “Bein’ you won’t let any of the men ’round here come courtin’ you.”
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” Rivers replied, attempting to smooth things over.
“Ruby’s mother scared me off,” he said, answering her question all the same. “Why is it you won’t give a nod to any of the fellers I know?” he asked.
“I…I…they don’t interest me,” Rivers stammered.
“Well, there ya have it. That’s my own answer, too.”
“But it’s different with you. You’re so…I mean, you know people around these parts. The women around here fawn over you something awful! It seems to me that…”
“It seems to me that this ain’t none of your concern, Rivers. Don’t you be sidin’ up with my sister in tryin’ to marry me off to some silly…”
“I’m not! I was just curious as to why you…don’t seem interested in…”
“I never said I wasn’t interested in women, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at. I’m all man, through and through, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he chuckled.
“I wasn’t doubting that,” Rivers sighed.
“Dang right! You, of all people, should have reason enough not to doubt me there,” he muttered, a sly grin spreading across his handsome face.
“It is impossible to hold a civil conversation with you, Paxton Gray!” Rivers exclaimed as she blushed. She couldn’t believe he’d referred to their kisses. She was delighted by his referring to it, but shy in the same moment.
“You ever take it to mind maybe that’s the way I want it?” he said, his smile fading.
Rivers tried to change the course of the conversation. “My, my. It is dry out here today. The very air feels…dry.”
Paxton looked up at the sky beginning to cloud a bit. “Yep.”
Rivers sighed again. He muddled her thoughts so when he was this near to her. She felt like confessing, I love you, Paxton! I can love you like Ruby never could! But she knew it would be futile. He would never see her as anything but a friend of Jolee’s—a girl who had hopped off a train from somewhere. He hadn’t wanted Ruby Dupree. Why ever would he want her?
“You drive ’em,” Paxton said abruptly, handing her the lines to the team. Taking his harmonica from his pocket, he tapped it in the palm of his hand. “What’ll it be?” he asked her.
Rivers loved when he played. Often she would hear him out in the barn at night playing mournful tunes. But it was rare he played in front of anyone, even Jolee.
He played for some time then, tunes Rivers knew and tunes she didn’t recognize. It was peaceful and yet—somehow haunting. Still, it relaxed her, made her appreciate the beauty of the day even more.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once in town, Paxton left Rivers in the general store and went on toward the blacksmith. Rivers purchased the brown sugar Jolee had requested and then sat down on a bench on the front porch of the general store to wait for Paxton’s return. She looked up, watching the clouds changing shape and color. It was a beautiful day—warm, bright, filled with sunshine.
Suddenly, she sensed someone stood near to her. Turning, Rivers saw an uncommonly attractive young woman standing over her. The woman stared at her, glared at her somewhat rudely.
“Are you the girl who’s staying with the Grays?” the young woman asked.
Rivers’s heart began to pound furiously as she knew at once who the woman was. “Yes,” she gasped. “I’m Rivers Brighton.” She offered her hand to the young woman, who took it and gently squeezed it in greeting.
“I’m Ruby Dupree. My family just returned to town,” the girl explained. Rivers noted the perfect spun-straw sunshine hue of the woman’s hair—the blue of her eyes so closely colored with Paxton’s. “How are Paxton and Jolee?” Ruby inquired.
“Fine. Jolee’s been ill, but she’s recovered fully, I believe,” Rivers answered.
“And…and Pax?”
“He’s fine. Working hard as always.”
“Yes, of course. He would be.” Ruby’s attention seemed to be captured by something behind and beyond Rivers. “Here he is now!” she exclaimed, waving frantically.
Rivers turned and watched Paxton approach.
“Paxton!” Ruby greeted as she hugged him tightly for a moment. “My, don’t you look as handsome as ever?” She almost sighed the remark. Rivers could see the life Paxton’s presence put into the blue of Ruby’s eyes. Her own heart seemed to sink to the pit of her stomach.
“If you’ll excuse me…I’ll let you two visit for a moment,” Rivers said, rising from her seat on the bench. She forced a smile and turned to leave. Paxton’s firm grip on the back of her neck stopped her.
“We’ve got to be gettin’ home to Jolee,” he said to Rivers. Then he smiled at Ruby and said, “It’s nice to see ya, Ruby. Tell your daddy I said ‘hello’.”
Ruby nodded and smiled. Paxton tipped his hat to her as he directed Rivers toward the wagon, his hand still at the back of her neck.
“You can quit directing me by the scruff of the neck like a bad puppy, Paxton,” Rivers snapped once they reached the wagon. She pushed his hand from her neck and climbed into the wagon unassisted.
“What’s got your tail in a fuzz, girl?” he asked. Then he chuckled and added, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“Well, you do know better,” Rivers assured him. “Now, let’s get home. I’m worried about Jolee.”
“I hope Weston don’t drag her off too far. She’ll be a might weak for awhile yet,” Paxton thought out loud.
“I’m sure he won’t. A nice long ride with him will do her a world of good,” Rivers said. “Miss Dupree is very beautiful,” she added. She grimaced, irritated by the snap in her voice.
“She’s a purty enough girl,” Paxton admitted. “I feel bad for her, saddled with a mother like that.”
Rivers’s rising anger softened at the memory of Paxton’s experience. He was a good man. He’d done the right thing on both counts, and she admired him for it. Still, she resented the fact he had been so closely involved with another girl, even if it was in the past.
“This sudden breeze is nice,” she said. “So refreshing.”
Paxton looked up into the sky. The clouds hung in low, green-gray clusters.
“I don’t like the look of them clouds,” he muttered.
“I think they’re nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like them before,” Rivers said, inhaling deeply. “Smells like rain maybe.”
Paxton looked up at the ominous clouds once again. “I think we better be gettin’ on home.”
Rivers began to feel uneasy at the speed with which Paxton was driving the team toward home. There was a deep, worried frown across his face, and he’d said very little since leaving town.
; “What is it?” Rivers asked finally.
“Those clouds,” he stated.
“What about them?”
“They’re strange. I heard tell of them before. Come right along with twisters.”
“Twisters?” Rivers asked. “You mean tornadoes?” she gasped.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. See the way they’re movin’. I don’t like the look of it. And the wind is pickin’ up too.”
The wind had indeed picked up. The sweet breeze of a few minutes before was almost an unpleasant, full-blown wind now.
“Paxton?” Rivers said nervously.
“It’s all right. We’ll get home and let the stock loose, just in case.”
“In case?”
“Well, it don’t look like the clouds stop just here. I reckon this storm’s headin’ for our place as well.”
Rivers was silent the rest of the way home. By the time they reached the farm, the wind was so strong it was almost impossible to stand straight. Anxiety had driven her jealousy from her. The weather was turning evil.
Paxton lifted Rivers down from the wagon. “Make sure Jo’s not in the house. Then you get your little fanny down in the root cellar. You hear me?” he hollered over the rushing air.
Rivers could hardly hear him above the roaring wind, but she nodded. She watched as he frantically unhitched the team and slapped one of the horses on the flank. Then she headed for the house.
“Jolee! Jolee, are you in here?” she called. There came no answer, so she checked all the rooms. Maybe she and Weston had sheltered somewhere else.
As quickly as she could, Rivers worked her way down the front steps and toward the cellar. The wind was a torrent of fury, sending leaves, twigs, and other debris pelting her face and body. She heard a horrible crackling sound and turned to see a nearby fence post break in two. It made a morbid noise as it flew up in the air, ripping the barbed wire off the post next to it.
Rivers screamed and ducked as the post and wire hurled through the dirt toward her! She felt herself hit the ground hard as the wire caught in the skirt of her dress. Frantically, she tried to stand up, but the gusty winds kept her down, and she became entangled even more severely in the wire. It cinched about her calves, the barbs biting through her stockings and into her flesh.
An ear-shattering roaring commenced. Rivers looked up, horrified at the sight of the forming funnel arching down from the sky into the pasture. The barbs of the wire rooted in her skirt and petticoats were tearing at the flesh of her legs. Reaching down, she struggled with the wire, trying to pull herself free.
“Strip your dress off!” came Paxton’s shouting. A moment later, he was there, kneeling down in front of her and ripping open the bodice of her dress. “Get out of it! Shoes, too! Now!” he repeated.
Rivers quickly peeled her arms out of her dress as Paxton pulled a knife from his boot and cut the laces of her shoes. Tossing her shoes aside, Paxton tugged at the fabric of the skirt and petticoats until, at last, he was able to slip them down and over her feet.
Paxton pulled Rivers to her feet and pushed her ahead of him. “Run! Get in the cellar!” he shouted.
The dirt and debris blowing madly about made it almost impossible to see. At last, Rivers dropped to the ground and fumbled with the latch to the cellar door. She could hear a thunderous roar. She turned to see the devastating tornado touching down in the north pasture. The sound was deafening! It hurt her ears! But there was no time to pause and cover them.
Suddenly, she was shoved from behind and went tumbling down into the cellar. Then there was only the roaring of angry tempestuous wind above ground and complete darkness below.
Rivers breathed a sigh when at last she saw the flicker of a lantern as Paxton lit it. He came forward and knelt before her. He said something, but the roaring was so loud she couldn’t hear him.
The horrible sound grew louder and louder, accompanied by the pounding vibrations of objects crashing about outside. Rivers put her hands to her ears and tried to block it all out. It was terrible! Never in her life had she experienced such a deep, foreboding anxiety as she did now. Her ears felt as if they might swell and burst from the racket. She could taste dirt in her mouth, and her legs throbbed with the ache of the barb wounds. The darkness of the enclosed cellar seemed like a tomb, and she felt fear being replaced by panic and heightening within her.
Rivers watched as Paxton sat down next to her on the cold, hard earth. His chest, neck, and face were bleeding. As she looked close, she realized a piece of barbed wire must have struck him, for the wounds appeared to be about three to four inches apart. Reaching up she touched his face. He winced and pushed her hand away.
Setting the lantern on the ground in front of him, Paxton rested his arms on his knees, enfolding the powerful limbs and letting his head rest on them.
Deafening, wrenching, cracking, popping, snapping noises commenced. Rivers shivered and waited as Paxton looked up and strained his ears.
He looked to Rivers and, though she heard no sound, she read his lips as he said, “The barn.”
The roaring seemed to lessen a little, and Rivers looked up as if she might be able to see something through the wooden doors above them. There was little light sifting through the cracks between the wooden planks.
She looked back at Paxton and found him blankly staring at her. She thought how handsome he was, his face smudged with blood and dirt, his hair windblown. Then, as his eyes moved the length of her and back, she was awash with humiliation, as she realized she sat clad solely in her camisole, corset, and pantalets. She crossed her arms over her bosom, hugging herself and hoping his attention would soon be diverted. But by what?
Suddenly, the wind seemed to lose some of its strength. Although it still roared, sounding thunderous and violent, Rivers thought the tornado must be moving on—on to spread further fear and destruction.
They sat in silence for a few minutes more. Then Paxton spoke. “It’s a bit breezy out this afternoon, ain’t it?”
Rivers began to laugh and cry at the same time, fatigue and emotional distress weakening and confusing her emotions.
Instantaneously, the wind picked up again. Paxton stood, opening the cellar door just a crack. Slamming it shut, he shouted, “It’s another one!” just before the wind resumed its ear-splitting roar.
Rivers doubled over and tried to block out the sound. She covered her ears, sobbing bitterly. She felt Paxton’s hands on her shoulders and looked up at him as he hunkered down before her.
“It will pass,” he mouthed to her. Rivers shook her head. The noise, the fear was driving her mad. She felt the need to scream—scream until her lungs burst!
Paxton took her face in his powerful hands, forcing her to look at him.
“We’ll be fine,” his lips said, and suddenly she felt lost in the blue of his eyes. She trusted him. If Paxton Gray said they would be all right, then she knew they would be. In those moments, gazing into the handsome strength of his face, Rivers knew he would keep her safe—Paxton would prevent harm from finding them there in the cellar.
Tenderly, Paxton held Rivers’s lovely, frightened face in his hands. Tears streaked her dust-covered cheeks. He held his breath a moment then, astonished as he saw the fear in her eyes changed to trust. In those moments, Rivers placed her life in his hands, and somehow it both pleased and frightened him.
He released her, sitting down and leaning back against the earthen wall of the cellar. Propping his arms on his knees, he motioned for her to come and sit with him. She hesitated for only a moment and then, much to his surprise, actually nestled herself safely against him. She leaned her back against his chest, astounding him next by taking his hands and wrapping herself snugly in his arms.
Paxton let his chin rest on the top of her head, and, for all the swirling dust, he could still smell the sweet scent of her hair. To have her there in his arms, against his body…it was pure pleasure. Small and slight she may be, but he knew she was strong and capable as well. Still, she
needed his comfort. He knew she needed him, only him. And, for those next few moments, he decided to let her need him.
Rivers felt secure in Paxton’s arms. He was warm and strong. His breath in her hair sent goose bumps erupting along her arms and legs. The feel of his powerful hands on her arms both calmed and excited her. She felt she could breathe easier, yet was more breathless than before.
Outside, the wind began to diminish once again. Yet in its place there was a new sound—the sound of heavy rain hitting the earth and cellar door. Quickly, however, the wind became a gentle breeze, and the rain fell softly.
“Is it over?” Rivers asked quietly. Her own voice sounded strange to her ears, which were still ringing with the wicked roar of the wind.
“Probably,” Paxton answered. “But we’ll sit here awhile, just in case.”
Rivers couldn’t have asked for anything more blissful than to sit in Paxton’s arms forever. But she turned to look at him, and he released her, though he made no move to stand.
“Your face!” she exclaimed, upon seeing the wounds there once more.
He reached up and touched one of the wounds, looking at the blood it left on his fingers. “I think a piece of that barbed wire flew up at me when we were gettin’ ya untangled.”
Rivers reached up and caressed his cheek, being careful of the wounds. “I’m sorry, Paxton,” she said.
Sudden Storms Page 8
