Bad Penny (5 page)

Wilson saw the tears and quickly spoke.

“The parts Dad ordered for the hay baler are in. Would you mind picking them up? I’d go, but I don’t want to leave Dad to lift the machinery we’re working on by himself, and if I left, I know he would.”

Cat frowned. “You’d better be careful of what you’re lifting, too, mister. You haven’t been out of the hospital long enough to impress me.”

Wilson grinned. “I promise not to lift anything too heavy. So, do you mind going?”

“Of course not, but I’ll have to drive your truck. My SUV is still in the

shop.”

Wilson slid his hands down her back, then cupped her backside and pulled her closer, settling her right between his legs.

“Now you know how I felt when I got that phone call from you in Chihuahua.”

She sighed. “We sure haven’t come to this place by an easy route.”

He grinned. “There wasn’t anything about you that was easy, but I can honestly say you’re worth it.”

Cat arched an eyebrow, then picked up her wallet. “So where am I going in Austin?”

“The John Deere dealer. We passed it the other day when we were going out to dinner. Do you remember where it was?”

“I do. Do I just ask for Carter McKay’s order?”

Wilson nodded. “That’ll do it. Here’s Dad’s credit card. He’s already called them to okay you signing for it.”

“Good. I’m off, then. See you soon.”

“Drive safe,” Wilson said, and stole one last kiss.

Cat sighed when he pulled away, then headed outside, where she saw Dorothy on her knees beside the doghouse, with Carter squatting down beside her.

“How many?” Cat called.

“Five,” Dorothy said. “And they’re the cutest things. You’ll have to help me name them when you get back.”

“Count on it,” Cat said, and waved goodbye.

Cat pulled herself back to the present as she walked into the equipment dealership, pausing in the doorway to orient herself. After spying the parts department sign, she headed that way. The man behind the counter was sporting the remnants of a sunburn and a fat lip. She knew enough about men not to mention either one. Instead, she pulled Carter McKay’s credit card out of her pocket and leaned her elbows on the counter as the parts man gave her the once-over.

“Hello there, missy…exactly what can I do for you?” “I came to pick up some baler parts for Carter McKay.”

The leer morphed into courtesy so fast that Cat almost believed she’d imagined her first impression.

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

Then he yelled at someone standing halfway down the aisle behind him. “Hey, Junior. Wilson McKay’s girl is here to pick up his dad’s baler parts.”

Cat’s breath caught in the back of her throat as an old memory slammed into her so hard it brought tears to her eyes. All of a sudden she was seven years old again and standing at the checkout beside her father as an old woman leaned over the counter and looked down at her.

“Well, would you looky here,” the old woman said. “It’s Justin Dupree’s little girl, Catherine.”

Cat took a deep breath and made herself focus on the green and yellow John Deere logo painted on the wall, instead of on the emotions sweeping through her at the realization that for the first time in a long, long time, she belonged to someone again.

“Here you go, ma’am,” the parts man said, and set a small box on the counter in front of her.

Not trusting herself to speak, she managed a smile as she slid the credit card forward. She signed her name, pocketed the card and the receipt, and picked up the box as the parts man glanced down at her signature, then back up at her.

“Real nice to meet you, Miss Dupree.” Cat smiled. “Call me Cat.”

Her smile was a knockout, just like the woman who wore it. The parts man was toast. He watched her all the way out the door and then as she got

into Wilson McKay’s truck, all the while reminding himself it was a sin to covet another man’s woman.

Cat was still smiling as she passed the Austin city limits sign, but her smile disappeared as she began noticing the rapid change in the weather. The sky had gone from partly cloudy to dark and threatening. It didn’t look too good.

Thankful that she was on the way home instead of just starting out, she increased her speed. Spring in this part of Texas was beautiful, but it could also be deadly. Rain was expected, but tornadoes often accompanied spring storms, and those could get a body killed.

As she drove, she kept glancing up at the sky. The wall of clouds in the southwest was growing bigger and getting darker as the wind continued to strengthen, making it harder and harder to keep the truck on the road.

Stephanie Goodman was on her way to the pediatrician with her twin three-year-old boys when she topped the hill south of their home. One moment she’d been worrying about what could have caused their fevers to spike, and the next thing she knew it started to rain. She turned on the windshield wipers, and less than three minutes later was horrified as the raindrops turned into hail, hammering down like bullets.

Both boys started crying. Before she had time to calm them down, she drove out of the hail. Her relief was short-lived when she glanced to her right and saw a dark snake of whirling cloud drop out of the clouds. It appeared to be about a quarter of a mile away, which, in the grand scheme of storms, was too damned close. She glanced in her rearview mirror at her twins and felt a surge of fear unlike anything she’d ever known.

“Oh, God…oh, Jesus, please don’t let this happen,” she whispered, as she made a U-turn and stomped on the accelerator, praying she could make it to the McKay place.

Today was Billy Joe Culver’s seventeenth birthday and, so far, the best day of his life. He’d awakened to the scent of blueberry pancakes and a set of car keys on his pillow.

“Oh shit, oh shit…no way man!” he yelled, and bounded out of bed with the keys in his hands. He ran out of the house wearing nothing but his underwear, piled into the brand-new red Dodge four-by-four, and drove it around the house and barns a half-dozen times before his mom waved him into the house to eat breakfast.

Then, because it was his birthday, she’d let him skip school.

Later that morning, he’d begged his dad to let him drive his new truck into Austin to pick up the horse feed. The last thing his dad had told him was to drive safe.

But Billy Joe had been unable to resist the urge to see what the truck could do, and because he was going ninety-five miles an hour when he topped the rise in the road, it took him a few moments to register the tail of a twister tearing through old man Waller’s pasture. The first thing he thought of was that his brand-new truck was going to be ruined, and then it dawned on him that the situation didn’t bode well for him, either.

With nothing but flat, nearly treeless land stretching out between him

and Austin, he slowed down enough to turn around, then pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor just as it began to rain. The road to the McKay ranch was just a couple of miles back. He could take shelter there.

Cat was reaching for the cell phone to call Wilson and ask him about the weather when she drove into rain. It quickly turned to hail, which didn’t make her feel any better. It was common knowledge to those versed in the ways of tornadoes that they were often concealed by hail or a rainwrapped wall cloud.

She was only a couple of miles away from the turnoff to the ranch. Suddenly, the wind was so strong that it shifted the truck into the wrong lane of traffic.

“Oh lord…please help me get home in one piece.”

Then she tightened her grip on the steering wheel and jammed the accelerator all the way to the floor.

One mile passed, and then she saw the turnoff and took it without slowing down. The rain was hitting the truck like bullets, and she was no longer ahead of the storm. She was driving parallel to it, the wind buffeting the truck so hard it was almost impossible to keep it on the road.

Suddenly her cell phone rang. She jumped but ignored it when a small tree flew past the hood of the truck. Her heart dropped. The only thing that would uproot a tree and then send it flying was a twister. She didn’t know how close it was to her, but she didn’t think she was going to beat it to

the ranch, and she didn’t want to die just when she’d found the best reason to live.

Wilson. Oh God. Wilson.

It was the last thing she thought before the truck went airborne. Cat started to scream, but the sound was lost in the roar of wind and rain. She had one glimpse of a rooftop sailing past her line of sight, and then a pig flew by upside down. After that, everything went black.

Wilson glanced at his wristwatch, then laid down the wrench and walked out of the toolshed. He looked up at the sky, then up the driveway. Cat should have been back by now. The wind was rising, and he could smell the rain. He was well aware that Cat could take care of herself, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. All he needed was to hear her voice and he would be fine. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and had just started to call her when his mother came running out of the house carrying a laundry basket.

“Wilson! Wilson! The weatherman said there’s a tornado on the ground and headed this way. Get your Dad and get to the cellar.”

He saw his mother heading for the doghouse and realized she was going to get the old cat and the litter of kittens, and take them to the cellar with her.

“Dad!”

Carter had heard Dorothy yelling but didn’t know what she’d said until he came out of the barn.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Mom says there’s a twister on the ground and to get to the cellar.”

Carter glanced toward the house. “Oh lord, she’s after those cats.” He took off running toward her.

Wilson was punching in Cat’s number when he heard the sound of an engine coming fast. Thank God. He turned toward the driveway, but his relief was short-lived. It wasn’t Cat. Moments later, the car came to a sliding halt at the front fence and he recognized Stephanie Goodman. When he saw she was trying to get two little kids out of the backseat, he ran to help her.

Stephanie was shaking so hard that she couldn’t unlock the seat belts on their car seats.

“Here, I’ve got them,” Wilson said, then pushed her aside, got one boy out and handed him over. Seconds later, he got the second one out.

“There’s a tornado on the ground!” Stephanie cried. “We’ve got to get to the cellar.”

“Follow Mom and Dad!” he said.

Stephanie grabbed her boys by the hands and began running as the first edge of the gust front hit. It knocked both boys off their feet and

dragged Stephanie to her knees. Her scream alerted Carter, who saw her and ran to help.

Once she was safely in his parents’ hands, he tried calling Cat’s number again, but before he finished dialing, another vehicle came over the hill. His relief turned to panic when he saw it wasn’t her, either. He didn’t recognize the truck, but he knew the kid who got out. It was Jordan Culver’s boy.

“Tornado! On the ground!” Billy Joe screamed.

At that moment the hail hit. The boy shrieked, then wrapped his arms over his head for protection. “My truck! It’s gonna ruin my new truck!”

Wilson yanked him toward the cellar as hail slammed into their faces, dialing Cat’s number as they ran.

“Quit worrying about your truck and worry about your hide. Run, boy!” Wilson yelled. “Get in the cellar—now!”

Then they both heard the whine—a high-pitched scream of wind and power that sounded like an approaching freight train.

“Oh, no!” Billy Joe screamed, and bolted for the cellar.

Wilson was right behind him with the cell phone held to his ear. All the way to the cellar, then down the steps and into the concrete-walled room, he kept listening to the ringing and waiting for the sound of Cat’s voice. It never came.

It was the silence after the din that brought them all up out of the cellar. Wilson went first, praying that his truck would be back now, with Cat sitting in it, wondering where everyone had gone. Dorothy was carrying one of Stephanie’s boys. Stephanie carried the other. Carter had the basketful of cats and was coming out behind Billy Joe, who vaulted up the steps, anxious to see what damage had been done to his birthday present.

The house was still standing, as were the shade trees and the barn, but debris was everywhere. A tree branch was hanging half in and half out of one front window, but the roof appeared intact.

Billy Joe ran to his truck, bemoaning the broken back window and the hail dents in the hood. Wilson saw his father put the cats back in the doghouse, then began helping the kid clean the glass off his truck seats.

Dorothy was walking Stephanie to her car, which had survived the storm with nothing but some hail dings. He watched her help the young mother buckle the boys back in their car seats and wave her off.

Billy Joe finished brushing the glass off the driver’s seat and started to get inside when his cell phone began to ring. Wilson heard him telling his mother where he’d been, and that he was fine and heading for home.

Wilson stared down at his own cell phone, as if willing it to tell him where Cat was. But there were no missed calls or voice messages waiting to be listened to. He started to dial her number again, then changed his mind and dropped the phone in his pocket.