Despite the distant thunder and relentless torrent of water, to Emily the silence was deafening. A hundred different emotions swirled, and she didn’t know which one to acknowledge first. They were rushing up on her, and she was feeling the familiar urge to run. But she was also feeling the urge to stay – to stay there in the car with Rain, to let him put his arms around her and hold her. In the confines of the car, wrapped in the intimate cloak of darkness, his closeness was a magnet drawing her toward him. She knew she had to make the decision soon. If she didn’t, she was going to throw herself into his arms. “I’d better go,” she said, the reluctance in her voice obvious even to herself.
That reluctance encouraged Rain. “Come with me to the cabin,” he said. “It has a fireplace. It will be much more comfortable than the house on such a miserable night.” Still afraid of scaring her off and wanting her presence under any conditions, he added, “I’ll take the couch...if you want.”
Emily knew if she went with him to the cabin tonight, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch. But as much as she wanted it, she wasn’t ready to let him make love to her. Her emotions were still too much in turmoil. It was all happening too fast, and she was scared. “No,” she said finally. “I’d better go.”
It was the unmistakable sound of regret that gave Rain the courage to reach out and touch her. He stroked her hair and, when she made no objection, ran his hand along her cheek and traced the line of her mouth. Her lips parted at the touch of his finger. In the faint light, he could see the heady look in her eyes. This time, he thought, moving slowly, she’ll let me kiss her.
He cupped her face in his palm and slowly brought his face down to hers. His lips touched hers and sent a wave of heat that travelled to every nerve ending in their bodies, leaving them both dizzy with desire.
It’s too late now, Emily thought. She should have gotten out when she could. A flash of lighting momentarily bathed them in a wash of blue light, and in his eyes Emily saw a passion that met her own.
“Kiss me,” she whispered urgently and hoarsely against his mouth. It was if the night was inside her now, possessing her with its power – all the rigid self-control over her feelings had no power against the raging storm. She felt beautiful, wild, out-of-control. She curled her fingers in his thick, soft hair and pressed her mouth hard against his.
Rain felt as if his breath had been taken away. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He drank in her kisses, returning them with all the hunger he felt. A tiny voice told him this was too quick, too sudden, but he was powerless to stop it. One hand tangled in her hair, the other one ran down the silky bare skin of her arm. She moaned softly against his mouth, bringing his blood to fever pitch. Hastily she undid the buttons on his shirt and ran one hand up inside his shirt. His skin felt charged under her hands, his muscles hard and taut. She had long stopped thinking about the implications of what she was doing. She had ten years to make up for.
Feeling his hands on her chest, he kissed the soft skin on her neck. He moved down her throat until his lips found the warm place between her breasts. He felt as if there was no stopping. He wanted her so badly.
But he didn’t want to make love to her here. After waiting so long, he wanted it to be perfect, not just a quickie in the front seat of a car. He longed to lay down with her and tell her how beautiful she was, how desirable he found her. He longed to murmur in her ear how much he loved her. Not just now, but forever.
He kissed her on the mouth again. She responded hungrily and was surprised when he eventually broke away. “Come back to the cabin with me, Em," he whispered, stroking her hair and letting his hand run down her back. He had to know she was doing this for the same reasons he was. As much as he desired her right then, he couldn’t bear it if she took it any less seriously than he did. This wasn’t a one-night stand for him – this was the beginning of forever.
Emily heard his whispered invitation and heard a little voice bring her back to earth. Her lips were still against Rains, her heart was still racing, but something was making her pull away. The old, guarded Emily was returning. She felt exposed and vulnerable. Scared.
“I love you, Em,” he whispered against her skin.
She stiffened under his hands and felt panic chase every other feeling away. She pulled away, straightening her dress, pushing her feet into her shoes. Her hands were shaking, and she was very close to tears. She could hear Rain as if through a fog, imploring her to stay. He tried to hold her again, but she shook herself from his grasp. “Go away,” she said in a choked voice. She wrenched open the car door and ran for the porch of the house. Fumbling in her bag for the keys, she opened the door with shaking hands. She looked back and saw him standing by the car door. He called her name again, she heard the pain in his voice, but she turned away and ran inside.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her breath coming in short gasps. Why had she done that? Why had she run away again? She had wanted him – there was no doubt about that. And he had wanted her.
And he said he loved her. Is that not what she wanted?
Emily shivered from the cold. In the short dash to the house, she had become drenched. Her coat was still in the car. She turned up the thermostat and put on the kettle before going to her bedroom to change into her nightgown and bathrobe. The sound of thunder was becoming steadily closer, and sheet lightning frequently lit up the rain as it streamed down the dark windows. She went to the window and looked out over the yard, almost expecting to see Rain still standing beside the car. But of course he wasn’t. She felt a terrible emptiness, thinking that if he came to the door right now she would let him in. Now that she’d had time to think, she wouldn’t panic. She would let him make love to her.
In the kitchen, the kettle whistled impatiently. She heated a teapot with a splash of boiling water, swirling it before dumping it into the sink. She then dropped a tea bag in and poured the bubbling water directly on the bag. It was the way her mother had showed her how to make tea. The proper way, as she had put it, and Emily had made it this way ever since.
She carried the pot of tea and a mug up to her room and had just placed them on the bedside table when the lights went out. Under the heavy blankets and propped up against her pillows, she sat in the dark and sipped her hot tea and listened to the wind and rain pound on the steel roof and against the windows. The storm was directly overhead, loud booms and cracks followed immediately by flashes of light that lit the room momentarily as brightly as any electric light. Emily had never been scared of storms before, but never had she experienced anything so intense.
She wished now she had gone to the cabin with Rain, jumping involuntarily as a sharp crack of thunder rattled the window. She pictured herself and Rain sitting before a roaring fire in the snug cabin and was stabbed with a pang of desire as intense as the storm raging outside. Indeed, the combination of the storm outside and the storm inside were enough to drive her insane.
When they were young, they had never made love, although it was imminent, their mutual passion for each other growing every day. But after her mother's death, she had retreated inside herself, building up walls that were designed to keep everyone, including Rain – especially Rain – out. She couldn't run the risk of being abandoned again by someone she loved.
Rain had told her to get over it and get on with her life. Other people did too. Others, although they carried the memory of the person they lost with them forever, eventually learned to live without them. It was time for her to heal. She had to. She couldn’t just patch the holes that had appeared in her defences. She was like a prisoner who had glimpsed what lay outside the walls. She’d had a glimpse of happiness again. There was no going back.
She sighed and tossed the covers off impatiently. As exhausted as she was, she knew there would be no sleep as long as these two rain storms conspired to keep her awake. She took her bathrobe off the back of the bedroom door and drew it on over her nightgown. There were some candles in the kitchen. Maybe she woul
d try reading or sketching at the kitchen table by candlelight.
Her way to the kitchen was lit by lightning flashes, so frequent she almost didn't need the candles after all. She stood at the kitchen window and stared out into the night. The trees in the yard were groaning under the force of the wind, and the rain was being driven horizontally. If this was the tail end of the hurricane, Emily couldn't imagine what the centre was like.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, so close the thunder was simultaneous. The whole yard was illuminated as bright as if it were noon, and for a moment Emily could see the barn through the driving rain. The radiance lasted only a fraction of a second, and Emily couldn't be sure what she had seen. It was more of a feeling, but she knew what had happened. The lightning had struck the barn!
She stood looking out at the blackness, her eyes readjusting to the dark, trying to absorb the full meaning of what was happening. If lightening had struck the barn, it could only mean one thing.
Fire.
Chapter 7
With his heart pounding in his chest, Rain watched Emily disappear into the terrible night. He wondered if, despite her protests, he should follow her anyway. He hated to think of her in that cold, dreary house all alone, especially when she was so obviously upset. But when he thought of the reception he was likely to get, he decided against it.
He got back into the car and sat there, running over the events of the last few minutes, the storm raging around him. No matter how much he would love to share his bed with her, he had made the offer out of genuine concern for her comfort. The kiss though had been impulsive. He hadn’t meant for it to become so heated. It was meant to be gentle and non-threatening, so as not to scare her away. An innocent goodnight kiss – it was she who had turned it into anything but.
His blood raced as he recalled how she had pressed her mouth against his and whispered “Kiss me, Rain.” It had been barely audible above the storm, but it was a command and contained a hunger that matched his own. She had wanted him as much as he wanted her. He was sure of it. His breath caught as he recalled the taste of her mouth, the cool softness of the skin of her throat, the feel of her pressed against him.... And just when he thought there was no stopping their passion, she was gone, running away from him. Again.
Rain sighed deeply and reached behind the seat for his jacket. Emily’s was still there, forgotten in her rush to get away from him. He picked it up and draped it over the back of the passenger seat before pulling on his own. He couldn’t stay in the car all night.
He plunged into the gale and headed toward the barn, where the animals, frightened by the commotion of the storm, stirred restlessly. Expecting the lights to go out any moment, Rain found the flashlight he kept for such occurrences. He walked between the rows of cows and spoke soothingly to each one in turn.
Only the new calf, the one he thought of as Emily’s, seemed oblivious to the commotion, and when the lights did go out, it went on nursing calmly at its mother’s teat. Rain flicked on the flashlight. “You okay, old girl?” he asked, stroking the mother’s velvety nose. She snorted a reply and turned to give her young one a gentle nudge. The calf bleated her displeasure at being interrupted and went back to her dinner.
Rain gave each of the cows and the horse a bit more hay to comfort them and checked the water bowls. If the power wasn’t on by morning, he would have to bring in water from the pump in the yard. But they were fine for now, and he carefully latched the door behind him.
When he reached the cabin, he was drenched. Hastily he stripped off his clothes and slipped into dry jeans and a sweater. He built a fire in the fireplace and lit the candles on the mantle. It was warm and cozy in minutes. Rain poured himself a brandy from the decanter on the mantle and pulled one of the wingback chairs closer to the fire.
The fire cast a soft, rosy glow around the room, and Rain felt horribly guilty that Emily was alone in that dark, frigid house. He missed her too and would have been quite content to sleep on the couch if only she were here with him now. Well, not quite content, but happier than he was now.
As he sipped his drink, the full implications of the night’s events sank in and filled him with despair. Again she had pulled away from him. She had wanted him as much as he wanted her, and yet she still resisted. She was determined as ever not to give in to her feelings.
He was suddenly sure she wouldn’t be there in the morning. She would leave rather than face him after this. He knew this as surely as he knew he loved her.
He couldn’t let this happen – he couldn’t let her go again. Not when they’d come this far. He compared the woman who had come into the barn a few days ago and told him to find a new job to the one he had dinner with tonight. This evening Emily had almost seemed herself – the version of Emily he had fallen in love with all those years ago. Right down to the way she kissed him.
He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again. Surely there was something he could say to make her stay. Could he throw himself on her mercy and tell her he couldn’t live without her? He glanced at the clock on the mantle; it was late. But he would wake her if he had to. He blew out the candles on the mantle and banked the fire. Pulling on his rain slicker, he shoved his feet into his boots and ran out into the storm once again.
But at the foot of the porch steps, he stopped. Over the trees, in the direction of the house and barn, was an orange glow. It took only a moment for him to realize that it was a fire and that Emily was in danger.
* * *
Emily didn't stop to think. The barn was full of hay and, once it started to burn, even the heavy rains wouldn't be able to stop it. She ran to the back door, slipped into her rubber boots and a rubber rain jacket, and, taking the flashlight off the shelf from over the coat rack, ran out into the night.
The wind knocked the air from her lungs, and she could hardly keep her feet on the ground. She bent over double and, keeping her head down, pushed her way toward the barn. The rain jacket was useless. The rain was so hard that it immediately soaked the bottom of her dressing gown and travelled up under the jacket. The dressing gown snarled around her legs and threatened to trip her, so she held it up around her bare thighs, oblivious to the cold stinging rain.
The gate to the barn yard had been ripped from its hinges and was lying on the ground ten feet inside the yard. The cattle and horse would get out but that was better than leaving them trapped in a burning barn. She raised her head for the first time since leaving the house. The whole top of the barn was glowing, little vertical strips of red light showing between the boards of the siding. It wouldn't be long before the siding and the roof were ablaze. She had to work fast.
The barn door was torn out of her hand by the wind, and inside the frightened cows strained against the stanchions as they attempted to extract their heads from the iron restraints, while the horse neighed wildly. Smoke was swirling down the stairs from the loft, and Emily's first act was to close the door at their foot. Emily didn't know how the fire would spread, but she guessed that eventually the loft floor would catch fire and collapse into the main floor. That is if the smoke didn't kill everything first.
She ran into the aisle between the rows of cows and undid the first stanchion. The cow had tried so hard to free herself that she had pulled the bottom of the stanchion from its concrete base. Eyes wild with fear, white foam flying from its mouth, she let out a bellow of terror. Emily realized that, fire aside, she was in danger of being hurt by these fire-crazed animals. Ordinarily docile, fear had transformed them into wild beasts. The cow backed out of her stall and, in her haste to get to the door, slipped in the aisle and came down hard on her knees. Quickly, she staggered to her feet and seconds later was through the door and in the yard.
Emily remembered something about animals running into a fire. It had been a movie, a horse barn was ablaze, but the animals had refused to leave, actually running deeper into the flames. She was glad to see that this wasn't the case, or maybe it was because the flames as yet weren't
visible. Yet being the operative word. It wouldn't be long. Above her head, the fire roared above the sound of the storm, and she wondered if it would spread in all directions simultaneously - up through the roof, sideways through the walls, and down through the hay to the floor. She opened the stanchions one by one, crying out more than once when a tossing head caught her hand against hard metal.
It seemed to take forever, the smoke becoming thicker by the second, but in reality it only took six or seven minutes to release all twenty-five cows and the one horse, which galloped out the door. She was right behind them. Somewhere she had lost her flashlight, not that it would be much help in the smoke-filled darkness. She stumbled and tripped but at last emerged, gasping for air. She bent double in the rain, sucking the wet, soot-filled air into her lungs. Above her, the barn was ablaze, and, between the fire and the lightning, it could have been midday in the yard. She straightened herself up just in time to see Rain come through the gate, weaving his way between the cows, flashlight beam overwhelmed by the light from the blazing barn. He was running toward her and calling her name. At the same instant she remembered something else: the mother with the new calf, the one named Emily, was still inside the barn!
Rain screamed at her to stop, but she ignored him and ran back into the barn. The dense smoke seared her eyes and lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to breathe as she felt her way along the wall to where mother and daughter in their fear had flung themselves against their pen. She groped her way along the pen, feeling for the latch. At last she found it and, releasing it, opened the pen door. The two animals bolted through the opening, and Emily jumped out of the way, narrowly missing being trampled. She took in a painful lungful of smoke, turned, and staggered into Rain’s waiting arms. He lifted her off her feet and ran for the front door. For the second time she emerged from the barn. He set her down near the yard gate, and she leaned against him, coughing into his coat.
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