by Sharon Sala
He aimed the remote at the television set and clicked until he found a station broadcasting weather, then frowned. The northwestern part of the state was under a weather alert. There was a line of thunderstorms running from west of Amarillo all the way past the Fort Worth Dallas area and as far south as Austin. He cursed beneath his breath and aimed the remote, silencing the box. As long as this weather pattern held, the women in the business of selling sex would be somewhere else rather than the open lots of truck stops.
Since that was the case, he might as well make the best of it. Consider this a mini vacation. Bunching a pillow beneath his head, he rolled over and closed his eyes. The steady rhythm of raindrops splattering against the window soon lulled him to sleep.
* * *
Angel fought her covers as she dreamed her way toward morning. Lost in a nightmare in which Fat Louie played the lead role, she struggled to find her way out. One pillow was bunched beneath her cheek. The other had fallen to the floor. The lightweight blanket that had been covering her feet had slipped between the mattress and the footboard of her bed, and the sheet was wrapped around her legs. Sweat plastered her nightshirt to her body. The knit fabric clung to every curve, and her hair, still in a braid, had bunched at the back of her neck. In her mind, the sensations had translated themselves into Fat Louie's breath and Fat Louie's hands. She was fighting him now as she had fought him then. Closer and closer he came, pushing her into a corner, grabbing at her breasts and her backside. She doubled her fists to fight back—just as the light came on in her room.
"Get up!" Royal said quickly. "We've got to get to the cellar. I'm going to get Maddie. Meet me in the hall."
Angel was still trying to assimilate the fact that she was in this house and in this bed instead of stuck between Fat Louie and the wall of the restaurant kitchen when Royal disappeared.
"Wait!" she mumbled as she crawled out of bed, but he was already gone.
It was reflex that made her grab some clothes. What was it he'd said? Something about the cellar?
Then she heard it, the ominous howl of wind that comes with nature out of control.
Tornado.
It had been years since she'd heard the sound, and she'd been nineteen and living in Kentucky. That night a whole town had been destroyed, and eleven lives along with it. Now she had a real fear to face, not one of her dreams. Without hesitation, she began pulling on shorts and a T-shirt and looking for her shoes. Before she could find them, the power went out, plunging the house into darkness.
She turned. Guided by a slice of lightning that flashed outside her window, she headed for the hallway as Royal had told her to do. Her heart was pounding, her legs shaking as she called out.
"Royal!"
Suddenly he was there, coming toward her with a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms.
"Here," he said, thrusting a flashlight into her hands. "Take this and lead the way."
Angel grabbed it and switched it on. She aimed the feeble beam of light ahead of them, mentally tracing the path they would take down the hall, into the kitchen and then to the cellar off the back porch.
She wished she'd been able to find her shoes, but it was too late to worry about that. Royal was at her heels. She could hear the rapid sounds of his breathing and Maddie's terrified sobs as they ran through the darkened house. The wind was louder, the howl a deep and eerie wail, like the sound of a runaway train.
She looked back once and almost stumbled.
"Hurry," he said.
He didn't have to say more.
Then they were at the back door and on the porch. Angel aimed the flashlight into the downpour and gasped as the wind blew the rain in her face. Royal was at her back, giving orders that she followed without thought.
"Trade," he said quickly, and shifted his daughter into Angel's arms before yanking the flashlight out of her hands.
Angel clutched Maddie with tender strength, sheltering her as much as she could as they dashed into the storm. Royal took her by the arm and dragged her toward the cellar, and she knew that, but for him, she would not have been able to stand. Another flash of lightning tore through the night, followed by a blast of thunder so loud it shook Angel's bones. Maddie started to scream. Angel wanted to join her. Instead, she stood with Royal, praying as he struggled to open the cellar door against the force of the wind.
Then it was open and he turned, bracing himself and shouting something to her that the storm took away. But she didn't need him to tell her what came next. Clutching Maddie, she ran down the steps and into another kind of darkness—one so thick that it felt devoid of any air. Before she had time to panic, Royal was behind her. The door slammed, and the sudden light from his flashlight was like the supernova of a star. She blinked and turned away, letting her eyes adjust to new surroundings.
Water dripped from the hem of her T-shirt onto her feet. A new fear arose as she remembered she was barefoot. Cellars were notorious for harboring scorpions and snakes. If they were here, she didn't want to know it.
Maddie fought against the covers over her head. Angel helped her emerge, then laid her cheek against the top of the little girl's head, rocking her in her arms as if she'd been a tiny baby.
"Ssh, ssh, baby, it's all right. It's all right," Angel crooned. "We're all together and we're safe. That's all that matters."
Adrenaline was starting to wane, and the muscles in Royal's arms were beginning to shake. There'd been a minute when he hadn't been sure he could get the door open. His fingers were trembling as he swiped them across his face to clear his vision. All he could think was thank God Angel had been here. He would never have been able to open the door with Maddie in his arms.
He looked at them, woman and child standing in the dim glow, and reacted without thinking. He moved. Seconds later he had them both in his embrace.
Surprised by the action, Angel flinched. But the feeling was so welcome. So right. They'd battled nature and won. They were protected from whatever was happening above them.
Maddie was still sobbing, but quieter. Angel ventured a look at Royal and knew she'd made a mistake. She was pinned by a smoky stare. Her mouth parted, but the words died on her lips.
Royal shivered. "Are you all right?"
"Thanks to you," Angel said, and looked away.
Royal cupped the back of his daughter's head. "Baby?"
Without looking up, Maddie held out her hands. Royal lifted her from Angel's arms and held her close against his bare chest.
"What's happening?" Maddie sobbed.
"It's a storm, sweetheart. But like Angel said, we're safe, and that's all that matters."
"What about Flea Bit and Marbles and Dumpling? What will happen to them?"
"They're probably safe and dry in the hay barn," he told her. "Remember, that's their favorite place."
Satisfied, Maddie quieted. The silence within the cellar lengthened as the storm continued to gather in strength.
Angel felt restless. She had questions, but unfortunately Royal Justice couldn't answer them as easily as he'd answered his daughter's. She kept thinking about the way it had felt to stand in his arms. His strength was evident, his compassion obvious, but something else had happened that she hadn't expected. Something she hadn't felt in so many, many years. Safe. She'd felt safe.
Needing to take her mind off of everything, including Royal's bare chest, she took stock of her surroundings. There were shelves directly before her with a couple of dozen empty fruit jars shoved to the back. There was a small jar of matches and a couple of empty lanterns on a lower shelf, which would do them no good. Three folding chairs leaned against the wall, and the concrete floor, while rough and damp against her bare feet, was clean—and as far as she could see, critter safe.
Before she had time to explore any further, the cellar door suddenly rattled on its hinges. Frightened, she spun around, looking to Royal for reassurance. She could tell he was battling some fears of his own.
"It's bad, isn't it?" she whispered.
He glanced at Maddie, who'd fallen back to sleep in his arms, then nodded.
She thought of the ranch and of his home. Of the barns and sheds and the miles and miles of fence. Of the animals, exposed to the elements. The loss could be devastating.
"I'm sorry."
"None of this is your fault."
"I know. That's not what I meant. I'm just sorry this is happening."
He nodded. "So am I."
Another blast of wind came, and to their horror, the heavy door began to lift. The sound of the storm was once again upon them. Wind funneled into the opening.
Angel screamed as the flashlight slid off the shelf.
Royal thrust Maddie into her arms and leaped forward, catching the door before it opened all the way.
"Get back!" he shouted, pointing to the farthest corner of the cellar. "Get back and get down."
Angel plastered herself into the corner and pressed Maddie's face against her shoulder to protect her from flying debris. She turned her face to the wall and began to pray.
Later she would remember momentary flashes of Royal straining to hold the door against the brunt of the storm. The pain of exertion contorting his features as his body threatened to give way. Of the wind drowning out the sounds of their screams. And just when she thought he might disappear before her eyes, that sudden and awful silence.
Royal dropped into the cellar as the door came shut with a thud. He sprawled on the steps. It was all he could do to stand.
"Oh, God," he muttered, and bent forward, clutching his knees and praying for strength.
For once, Maddie was too traumatized to speak. Her little blue eyes were wide with shock, her lips trembling as she clung to Angel's arms. She whimpered once and then was silent as Angel began to rock.
"Thank the Lord," Angel whispered.
Royal straightened and turned, fixing her with a weary stare.
"Keep Him on hold," he said. "It's not over."
Angel's eyes widened as a new fear began to spread. "But the wind … the sounds…"
"It's the eye."
Angel groaned. He was right! Already she could hear the wind beginning to pick up force. She looked at Royal, expecting to see defeat.
But she'd read him wrong. He wasn't defeated. He was mad. He grabbed the flashlight from the floor and began sweeping the darkened corners, searching for something, anything that might help. As the wind turned into another long wail, he spied a rusting crowbar on the lowest shelf. In a frantic lunge, he thrust it through the iron handle on the underside of the door, then jammed it into the groove between the door facing and the wall of the cellar.
Like Excalibur, it seemed to have pierced the stone, but it was enough of a wedge to give Royal added strength. It was an extra pair of hands. He held on to the crowbar and rode out the storm.
Maddie was silent, hardly moving, never taking her eyes from her father. Angel felt the child's tension, but there was nothing she could do except hold her close. Minutes passed. They felt like hours. Then finally the storm began to lessen. Angel didn't have to ask. She could see the answer on Royal's face. It was passing.
A few minutes later Royal let go of the crowbar and sat on the cellar steps, folded his arms across his knees and lowered his head. Angel could see the muscles shaking in his arms. Each breath he took seemed to come from deep, deep inside him, as if he had to search for its source and then draw reserve strength to claim it. Maddie wiggled to be put down, and Angel turned her loose, then watched as she walked to Royal's side and began to stroke his head as she did her kittens.
"Daddy … Daddy…"
Royal lifted his head. "What, baby?"
"Is it over?" Maddie asked.
He nodded, cupped her cheek and smiled wearily. "Yes, baby, it's over."
She leaned forward, as if what she had to say was a secret. "I want to go back to the house now."
Royal sighed, wondering if there was a house to go back to. "I think you and Angel need to stay here for a minute while I go check on things, okay?"
It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but she nodded.
Royal started up the steps when Angel stopped him.
"Wait," she said, and handed him the flashlight, which he'd put on the shelf. "There will be damage. You need to see where you're going."
He frowned. "But that'll leave you two here in the dark, and Maddie's afraid of the dark."
Angel picked Maddie up. "So am I," she said softly. "But we don't want Daddy to get hurt, do we, baby?"
Maddie hesitated, and then shook her head.
Royal touched Maddie's cheek with the back of his hand, then he cupped Angel's shoulder. The look that passed between them was quick, but what Angel saw gave her strength. She nodded.
"I won't be long," Royal said.
Moments later, they were alone in the dark.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Royal came out of the cellar braced for the worst. Although a steady rain continued to fall, the absence of wind seemed surreal. And it was dark. So dark. No security light. No intermittent flashes of lightning—just a curtain of water between him and what was left of his world.
Holding his breath, he lifted the flashlight, aiming the beam of light over the ground, then staring at broken branches, an uprooted tree, part of the pump house roof.
My God.
He clenched his jaw and aimed the beam toward the house, past the spiderlike roots of the upturned tree, past the roofless pump house. But it was raining hard, and the beam of light was too weak to pierce the darkness. He took a step forward, then thought of Angel and Maddie alone in the cellar. The idea of leaving them was repugnant, but he had no option. He stopped and turned, aiming the flashlight toward the cellar.
"You two okay?" he yelled.
Their voices echoed faintly in unison. "Yes."
"I'll be back soon."
Their answer was lost in the rain. Squinting against the downpour, he started toward the house, stepping around boards, over buckets, dodging whatever was in his path. He kept thinking of the generations of families who'd lived in the house before him, of the laughter and tears that had been shared behind those walls. Was it gone? Had it been damaged beyond repair?
He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until the beam of light caught and held on a corner of the house. He stopped, using the light to trace the angles of roof and walls. To his overwhelming relief, it was still standing.
"Thank you, God," he said softly, and moved up the steps into the house.
The first thing he stepped in was water. Expecting to see holes in the roof, he aimed the flashlight up. The ceiling seemed fine. He looked toward the porch and remembered running out of the house with Maddie in his arms.
The door! He hadn't closed the door behind him. The water had blown in with the storm. He aimed the flashlight to his left and started walking.
The living room had not fared well. A limb had blown off a tree and was half in and half out of the picture window. Sodden drapes hung askew, and the furniture near the window was soaked. The carpet squished as he walked across it, but it didn't matter. Things could be replaced.
He moved down the hallway, checking ceilings and floors, and entered Maddie's room. The window was broken, and the covers on her bed, as well as the floor around it, were covered in glass. He shuddered, then quickly moved away.
The door to Angel's room was standing open. Torn curtains and broken glass marked the beginning of the storm's entry there, as well. It was as if a madman had gone through the room, tossing things awry. Pictures had fallen off the walls. Lamps were on the floor. He aimed the flashlight to the ceiling, to the spreading water stain above Angel's bed.
He backed out and aimed the beam of light down the hall. One more bedroom to go. His.
Expecting more of the same, he was stunned when he pushed the door open. Everything was as intact as it had been when he'd left it, even the covers he'd tossed aside as he'd bolted out of bed.
He whistled beneath his breath and shook his head. It didn't make sense, but he was glad to know there was one dry place they could spend the rest of the night.
The sound of glass breaking sent him across the hall. He shone the light. The big limb poking through Angel's window was closer to the floor. Everything was settling, including the weather.
He leaned against the doorjamb and sighed. Water was running out of his hair and into his eyes. Shivering from the cold, he swiped a weary hand across his face. There was plenty of damage, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. He shifted the flashlight to his other hand and started out of the house. It was time to bring his family home.
It didn't dawn on him until he started down the cellar steps that he had thought of Angel as part of his family. The ramifications of that simple acceptance didn't hit him until he shined the light in her face.
There in the dark, in the depths of the cellar, she sat—with his sleeping child in her lap and an expression on her face that stopped him cold. It was something he would have sworn he'd never see. But it was there just the same.
Trust. By God, she trusted him.
There had been times over the past few weeks when he'd pushed her too far, and he knew it. There were times she'd taken his guff without comment, but there were other times she'd given it back to him in spades. There had been times when he'd felt her fear, both of him and of the uncertainties in her life. He had not known how to make it better, and so they had kept their mental distances.
But tonight she'd done all he'd asked of her and then some. Because she had followed his lead so quickly, they'd gotten out of the house alive. He knew, as well as he knew his own name, that he could never have held Maddie and lifted the cellar door against the storm. And he could not have put Maddie down to do it, because the wind would have blown her away.
Royal's gaze blurred as he stared at his daughter's sleeping face. He couldn't begin to understand Maddie's dreams about a lady on her bed and the promise of angels, but by God, his doubts were over. Tonight Angel Rojas had lived up to her name. She'd been afraid of the storm and afraid of the dark, and yet she'd stifled her fears in order to protect his daughter, trusting him to take care of them both. Humbled by her faith, he shifted the light so it was out of her eyes. He started down the steps.
