Taking the Reins

by Carolyn McSparren

  If they were lucky, the tornado was a category one or two and would stay up in the clouds—airborne until it passed them.

  She dragged him down beside her. He slid under the tree, shoved her farther back against the trunk and covered her with his body. He felt the hail pound through the canopy above them and hoped the leaves would stop the worst of it.

  The wind redoubled as it bore down on them. Then came a single scream and the thud of hooves. A second later the stallion vaulted through the branches over their heads and thundered off toward the back pasture.

  Charlie buried her face against Jake’s shoulder. He pulled her body farther beneath his and shoved them both deeper into the mud.

  “I’m so scared,” she whispered.

  “Me, too.” He wanted to live, to love Charlie for a lifetime. Life had never been so precious as it was this minute with Charlie in his arms. He wouldn’t let it go...wouldn’t let her go. Was this the reason he’d been saved before?

  Any second they could be ripped away from each other, or impaled by a branch or chopped in two by a piece of flying metal roof. The tree that protected them could roll and crush them. He offered a silent prayer. Save Charlie. Take me if you have to. I can’t live without her.

  If we survive this, he thought, I’ll embrace the heck out of the rest of my life. And it better be with Charlie.

  “I love you,” he shouted at her.

  “You wait to tell me until we’re going to die?”

  “We’re not going to die. Do you love me?”

  She hit him in the chest with the flat of her hand. “Of course I love you. Don’t you dare die on me.”

  “I love you too much to lose you. Trust me.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her.

  He’d always heard a tornado sounded like a freight train. This one sounded like a dozen locomotives pulling a thousand freight cars straight for them.

  “I trust you. I love you, Jake, hold me.”

  He held her face against his shoulder. Around them the world seethed. Branches scraped his back, one hit his head so hard he saw stars.

  In seconds it was over. The locomotives lifted toward the clouds, taking the dirt and debris with them.

  They clung together and listened to the retreating wind. “That was too darned close,” Charlie said. “You can let me go now.”

  She turned her face away from him. She was trying to sound casual, but her voice shook. “You can take it back if you want to. Nobody’s responsible for anything they say in the middle of a tornado.”

  “I can’t take it back. I’m stuck with it. Unfortunately, so are you. Being loved by me has never worked out well for the lovee,” he warned.

  “I’m willing to take the risk,” she said. The rain and mud cut swaths down her cheeks. “My lovers haven’t been all that fortunate, either.”

  “This particular love is not a risk,” he said. “I get to love you forever whether you love me or not.”

  “You know I do. I’ve loved you since I found you crooning to the stallion. I knew you were special.”

  “Specially screwed up.”

  “That, too. I’m sorry I blamed you about Sarah.”

  “I shouldn’t have let her con me. I don’t know much about teenage girls, but she knows I care about her.”

  Charlie chuckled. “Too right she knows. She played you good. Jake, Sarah and I are a package deal.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “It doesn’t put you off?”

  “Off loving you?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be put off if you came with a pride of lions.”

  “Sometimes I think Sarah’s worse. You are a good man, Jake Thompson.” She caressed his cheek and left a streak of mud. Her eyes widened. “Oh, heaven! The others! The horses! The stallion!”

  “Come on.” He slithered backward in the mud beneath the tree.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said.

  “You’re muddy.”

  They managed to scramble out from under the branches. He lifted her dirt-covered chin and kissed her softly.

  “Not like that,” Charlie said, “Like this.” Nothing soft about her kiss. It was deep and open and painted with the heat of their bodies and their hearts.

  “Okay,” he said when they broke apart. “You want me, you got me.”

  “For how long?”

  “Forever,” he said.

  “No doubts about your decision?”

  “This is one decision my heart’s making for me. I love you, Charlie. I have nothing to offer you except that heart. It’s too soon, I know, but at some point, maybe you’d consider marrying me.”

  “Who says it’s too soon? Yes, yes, yes.”

  In the aftermath of the tornado the world had taken on a yellow-green glow. All that remained of the storm was a gentle rain that shimmered in the late-afternoon sky. In the west, the sun peeked out, promising a spectacular sunset.

  “Look,” he said, and pointed to the east. On the horizon, a double rainbow arched across the sky.

  With their arms around each other, they turned in a slow circle. The other large trees seemed to have survived, only the giant oak—their savior—had fallen.

  “From the back the stable looks okay,” Jake said.

  “The equipment shed doesn’t.” She slipped out of Jake’s arms and ran toward the remains of what had been a large metal building only seconds before.

  The roof and two walls had collapsed.

  They picked their way carefully over the twisted metal.

  “Hey, anybody!” Sean’s voice. “Hey! Remember we’re down here.”

  Charlie made her way to the lip of the grease pit and peered between the wheels of the tractor. “Is everyone all right? Sarah?”

  “We’re okay, Mom. Where were you? I was so scared.”

  “I’m fine, baby.”

  “Drive the tractor out of the way so we can climb out,” Hank said. “Got a little claustrophobia working here.”

  “I don’t think I can move it,” Charlie said. “Jake and I will have to pull you over the edge.”

  “Is Jake up there?” Sean asked. “Jake, my man, you came back.”

  “Where’s my wheelchair?” Mickey asked.

  “Where was it?” Jake asked.

  “By the tractor. We couldn’t get it down here, so I’m sitting on my rear in the grease.”

  “It’s probably been blown to Bolivar,” Charlie said.

  “Hey, crip, now you’ll have to walk,” Hank said.

  “That wheelchair cost twenty-five-thousand dollars, jerk.”

  “Mary Anne?” Charlie asked.

  “I’m okay,” Mary Anne said. “I don’t ever want to do that again.”

  “Is that a horse up there?” Sean asked.

  Charlie jumped as she felt warm breath on her neck. “Well, hello there, Picard.” She locked her fingers through the stallion’s halter. “That was some jump you made for a big ol’ fat draft horse.”

  He snorted softly.

  “Anybody got a belt I can borrow to use as a lead line?” she asked.

  “Here,” Sean said, and handed up his leather belt. “If my jeans fall down, cover your eyes.”

  Five minutes later everyone stood on the concrete floor of the garage amidst the debris.

  “What a mess,” Charlie said. “It’ll take weeks to clear out and rebuild. In the meantime, we need to get tarpaulins to cover the equipment.”

  “You’re insured, aren’t you?” Sean asked.

  “The structure is. I’m not sure it’ll cover all the work that’ll have to be done.”

  “Could have been the carriages,” Mickey said. “Hey, is my carriage okay?”

  “Didn’t hit the carriage barn,” Charlie said. “Th
ey should be all right. So’s the stable.”

  The weather sirens still keened in the distance. “Is that another one?” Mary Anne whispered.

  Charlie shook her head. “They’ll go on for half an hour at least. Look at the sky. The worst is past.”

  While Jake led the stallion back into his paddock, Charlie searched inside the barn for Molly and the twins, only to find they’d never left the foaling stall. Both foals were suckling while Molly munched from her hay net. She gave Charlie a casual glance as if to say, Tornado? What tornado?

  Charlie shut the door to the stallion’s stall and went back to hand Sean his belt. “The stallion got a few little nicks and scrapes,” she said. “Nothing we can’t handle later. We need to check the others.”

  Sensing that the storm was past, all the horses gathered by the pasture gate.

  “We really lucked out,” Sean said from the common room door. “Mickey’s wheelchair needs a good scrub, and it may not start without a new battery, but it slid under the front end loader where the wind couldn’t blow it away. We probably lost a bunch of wrenches and tools in the pond or the back pasture, but that stuff can be replaced.”

  “Uh, Charlie.”

  Charlie’s head whipped around to stare at Mickey, who leaned against the wall using both his canes. “Not all that lucky.” He pointed out the front door.

  A mature maple tree had fallen straight across the road in front of the farm.

  “We have to move it,” Jake said. “The neighbors may need help. Charlie, go get the tractor.”

  Charlie looked at him in astonishment. That was the voice of command.

  “We can’t get it out,” Charlie said.

  “Come on,” Hank said. “We need to see if we can move the stupid tree without it.”

  Down by the road, Jake climbed across the limbs. The tree was neither as old nor as big as the oak, but it was taller and heftier, and long enough to span the road and ten feet on the far side. “The ditch on the other side is flooded,” he said. “Even an ambulance couldn’t get through.” He looked at the others. “Hank, you and Sean get Pindar and Aries harnessed with the logging harness and put the chains on them.”

  “What about you and me?” Mickey asked. He’d reclaimed his chair, but kept his braces on.

  “Find the peavey hooks and the chain saws if they’re not buried under the debris.” He turned to Sarah. “Does your computer have a battery backup?”

  “Sure. I have to have a backup. Our power goes out if there’s a cloud in the sky.”

  “Then go on the net and get word to Collierville that the road is closed in front of the farm.”

  “NOAA should know we’ve been hit, but not how badly,” Charlie said. “Sarah, see if you can raise anyone down the road and tell them about the tree. Here, take my cell phone and call the colonel. He’s probably frantic.”

  Sarah nodded and ran for the house.

  Before Jake had time to do more than assess the fallen tree, Sean drove up on the four-wheeler. Two chain saws lay in the back on top of safety goggles, heavy gloves and a can of chain saw fuel.

  “How do we cut up this tree?” Jake asked. “You’re the expert.”

  “Expert twenty years ago, maybe. We don’t have time now to take all the big limbs off. Once the horses are in draft, we’ll have an idea of where the branches are going to dig into the ground or catch on the fence and hang up...We’ll remove those limbs, but leave the others until later. Hank and I can handle the saws. You’ll have to drive.”

  “Charlie...”

  “I can’t handle them the way you can,” she said. “Driving a carriage is different from this. You’re the only one of us that ever plowed behind a pair.”

  “Long time ago.”

  “It’ll have to do. Here come the horses.”

  “Right.”

  “Good thing we borrowed this stuff to practice logging with,” Mary Anne said. “How do we hook the horses up?”

  “Wait for me,” came Mickey’s voice. His muddy chair bumped across the sodden lawn toward them. “You forgot the peavey hooks.” The metal bars stuck out like lances on either side of his lap.

  Jake and Charlie harnessed the horses and attached the chains. Sean fastened them around the tree.

  “Everybody out of the way,” Sean shouted. “Okay, Jake, give it a shot.”

  “I have no idea how this trunk’s going to move.”

  “If it moves at all,” Sean said.

  “It’ll move,” Charlie said. “Jake can do it.”

  Jake felt his heart swell. This was one trust he would not betray if he had to drag the blasted tree out of the road single-handed. He grinned at her, clucked and gave that single earsplitting whistle he’d given at the logging site.

  The two horses moved forward until the chains tightened and brought them to a sudden standstill.

  “They’ve never been to a pulling contest where they dragged concrete blocks across an arena,” Charlie said. “They’re carriage horses. They don’t know how to strain that way.”

  “It’s in their blood,” Jake said. “They’ll pull.” Both horses backed up a step and shifted sideways in an attempt to avoid the weight behind them. When they discovered they were harnessed together, they stopped straining and relaxed. “Walk on,” Jake commanded, and gave that whistle once more.

  This time they knew what to expect. Their rumps dropped and their shoulders strained forward as they felt the weight of the tree. “Walk on!” He clucked and snapped the lines against their rear ends.

  For a moment he thought they wouldn’t or couldn’t exert enough power. The chains clinked, Pindar huffed, Aries snorted and both horses dropped four inches in height as they hunkered down against their harness and shoved their broad chests against their collars.

  The log moved.

  “Walk on!” Jake shouted.

  “Keep going!” Sean called. “We don’t have to cut the branches. She’s going to ride up over the fence.”

  The mud helped. The tree slid forward a foot at a time while the others stood well out of the way, offering both applause and encouragement for both him and the horses—mostly the horses.

  Once the big branches slipped across the fence and off the road, the horses had an easier job pulling the smaller branches from the top of the tree out of the way.

  “Got it!” Sean shouted. “You’re clear.”

  Everyone cheered.

  “Whoa!” Jake loosened the lines. His whole body trembled with the exertion. He hadn’t yet dried out from the storm, so he couldn’t tell how much was rain, but he suspected what drenched his shirt was mostly sweat. “Good boys,” he whispered. “Good ol’ boys.” He leaned his forehead against Pindar’s damp neck.

  In the distance, he heard sirens coming fast.

  A minute later two pumpers and an ambulance swept by on the road, which had been impassable only minutes earlier. The driver of the first pumper stopped and leaned out the window. “Anybody hurt?”

  Sean shook his head. “Damage to the buildings, but no casualties. We don’t know about farther down the road.”

  “We’ll check.” He waved and took off with his sirens blaring once more. The other vehicles followed.

  “You did it,” Sean said, and shook Jake’s hand with his right one. In all the excitement, he’d apparently forgotten he could crush Jake’s fingers.

  “No, they did it.” Jake slapped Pindar’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get them unhooked and into the barn. They deserve some extra oats.”

  The rest of the day degenerated into chaos. Weather radio reported that the tornado had lifted after it took out the colonel’s equipment shed, only to drop down and rip off their nearest neighbor’s barn roof.

  The colonel drove in unscathed an hour after the tornado passed. Relieved,
Charlie and Sarah hugged him.

  “I got hold of Dick Rigsby down the road,” he said. “He lost four locust trees, which is no great loss, and one of his oaks had the top twisted off it as though it had been felled with a chain saw.”

  “How’re his cows?” Sean asked.

  “Fine. So are his family and hands. They have a storm shelter.”

  “Which we are going to put in as soon as possible,” Charlie said. “I am not going through this again.”

  “Can’t fit their Santa Gertrudis bull into a storm shelter,” the colonel said.

  Sarah ran out with the small battery-powered television. “They’ve lost some roofs on the McMansions in Collierville, but nobody’s hurt that they know of.”

  The colonel looked around him at the branches, leaves and pieces of metal siding that cluttered the whole area. “Not going to be much carriage driving for the next few days.”

  “Sure there will,” Mickey said. “Now that they’ve got the hang of it, the horses can pull all the debris out of the garage.”

  “And we’ve got to get the Campbells to cut up those trees and remove them,” Sean said. “Jake and Hank and I can gain some experience helping them.”

  “You’d better plan on doing it yourselves,” the colonel said. “I doubt the Campbells will have a free day before Christmas.”

  “Looks as if I’ll have my hands full fixing the equipment so it’ll run,” Mary Anne said. “Mickey can clean the tools we recover.”

  * * *

  SEAN AND MARY ANNE heated canned tomato soup, spiced it up with basil and sour cream and made sandwiches, which they ate at the colonel’s kitchen table.

  The colonel disappeared to his office and joined them half an hour later. “Maurice and DeMarcus are both okay, so is Vittorio. They’ll all come back tomorrow. We’re going to need all hands.”

  Jake sat at the table with the others for the first time. Sarah was staring at him with adoration. Charlie hadn’t seen that look of hero worship since Steve left for his third tour.