Season of Fear (19 page)

"At certain times of year, strange things happen with the weather out here. Late summer is sometimes the worst. The clouds gather, then get a greenish tinge around the edges. See?"

She stared up into the grayness, looking for the effect he described. Sure enough, as she looked carefully, she could see what he was talking about. The clouds had a definite green ring around them, a shadowy signal to those below of what was to come.

"I see what you mean. So now what will happen?"

"Hail, Robin. A hailstorm like you've never imagined."

"Hail? In this heat?"

"Like I said, late summer is the most likely time. And the most dangerous. People expect bad weather in the winter. They're prepared for it. But now..." He paused, then went on. "The crops are ripening in the ground. One good storm will flatten them so that you'd never recognize them. And the cattle..."

She thought of the cattle that roamed the many square miles of range. She thought of the young calves that wandered cheerfully behind their mothers, born only that spring, used to the sunshine and relative peace of the summer skies.

"They've got to get them to shelter. I've seen hail stones bigger than golf balls, just falling from the sky covering everything in sight. They batter houses, cars, and hurt anyone caught without shelter."

Robin shuddered. The picture the ten-year-old painted was not a happy one.

"It sounds horrible, Gregory, absolutely horrible. How can you be so excited about it?"

A thoughtful look came over his young face, and for a split second, Robin felt that she had caught a momentary glimpse of what Alexander Ridley had been like as a child.

"It's nature, Robin, it's a part of living on this earth. I like the idea of trying to be ready for it, of trying to beat the storms and coming out okay. It's a sort of challenge, I guess. Makes me feel so close to the land. All of a sudden you realize just how strong nature is and feel a part of it all."

She put a hand on his slight shoulder, glad for their few short moments together.

As he said a hasty goodbye (with two fistfuls of cookies from the waiting cookie jar) and darted out to once again join the activity on the ranch, she looked out the window, noticing the scurrying of men as they secured doors and gates around the barns. They moved quietly, evenly, men with a purpose who were well aware of what they were up against. She watched as Gregory crossed the ground toward them, finally disappearing into the stable.

The sky had taken on an even greener tinge in the few moments that she had remained by the window. On the horizon, a horse and rider came into sight, hoofs hammering the dusty ground as they approached. She recognized Alex even at a distance, and watched his tall, lean form molded to the saddle as he covered the distance to the ranch.

"We've got the cattle secured," he hollered to the men, slipping from the back of his horse and handing the reins to a nearby hand. Within seconds, the mount was within the stable walls, out of harm's way. Alex pushed his hat to the back of his head and looked up into the sky.

"Boy, it's going to be a big one," he hollered to no one in particular. "We're just about as ready as we can be, and it's a good thing. That sky is about ready to rip!"

He turned to follow the last of the hands into the barn, giving a final thoughtful look at the greenish-gray sky.

Robin's throat was tight with emotion. How much like his young son he looked! So respectful and appreciative of the natural world around him, so ready to rise to the challenge of protecting his own. His face was alive and alert, and Robin couldn't move her eyes from him until he disappeared into the barn.

"Work in a high-powered office," Deborah had suggested. "Watch your money grow."

Robin shook her head. Alex was a part of this land. He belonged to and with this land. It was his livelihood, it was his soul. Her heart felt warm somehow at the realization. A noise behind her made her turn around.

"Gonna be a big one," said Cook as she rearranged the stack of pots and pans that she had disrupted. "Glad to see they're ready out there!"

"How about the house?" said Robin suddenly, realizing that with all the scurrying around the barns, no one had paid much attention to the house.

Cook laughed.

"Well," she said, "when Alex built this house, he made it to stand up to conditions like this. It's as strong as a castle. We've battened down the pool area, and the rest takes care of itself."

Robin looked around. "But all these windows."

"Shatterproof!" Cook said with a look of pride. "Mr. Alex does things right. So we can sit tight and watch the action out here to our hearts' content. These storms are a part of life to most folks out here. The kids love them because they sometimes delay the start of school, if they come in early September. The local folk look on them as a kind of challenge, and accept them as a sign of the overpowering strength of nature."

"I know," said Robin dreamily, looking once again out the kitchen window.

Cook gave a knowing smile before returning to her pots. "Somehow I just thought you would."

The two made a quick check throughout the house. Except for Alex and Gregory, who Robin had already seen go safely into the barn, the rest of the current inhabitants of Ridley Ranch were present and accounted for. The twins sat with Herman and Lisa in the living room, listening to the stereo and watching expectantly for the storm, which was soon to come. Deborah had retired to her room, not being one to appreciate the feeling of excitement that seemed to permeate the place. The girls who helped with the household duties were chattering wildly in the laundry room, chores now forgotten, as they made bets with each other about the size of the coming hailstones.

"Like golf balls," exclaimed Linda, "as big as the ones that came two summers ago."

"Never!" exclaimed her friend with dismay. "Just think of the damage they would do to my boyfriend's new truck!"

"Maybe bigger," taunted the other girl. "I heard the men saying it might be the worst they've ever seen."

Robin left them to settle their argument by themselves.

She returned by herself to the kitchen, and positioned herself at the window, noticing suddenly how the wind was beginning to blow in small swirling motions, picking up handfuls of dust and transforming them into whirlpools a few feet from the ground.

Tufts of grass whipped by occasionally, and the sky continued to darken with an angry, stormy look. The greenness around the clouds was even more apparent now. She watched with amazement as the land outside came to life in the wind.

The sky broke. The scene before her was a surprise, despite the descriptions that she had heard. The wind picked up speed suddenly, sending a howling roar across the prairie. The sky brightened for a split second, before beginning its treacherous show toward earth. The air suddenly was filled completely with the sight of round white balls plummeting toward the ground, hitting with force and bouncing from their landing spots until they came to rest some distance away. They were about golf-ball size, she noticed unconsciously.

The sound of clatter on the roof of the ranch house was nerve shattering. The distant barns were totally shut off from view by the snowball-like downpour.

The hailstones were coming larger now, not bouncing nearly as far, as the ground became covered with the evidence of the storm. Bigger than golf balls, tennis balls, almost baseballs. Robin stared wide eyed. It was incredible. The sound on the roof got louder and louder, as the stones fell with greater velocity. She said a silent prayer of thanks for the shatterproof windows and solid construction of the house.

She looked out into the whiteness, straining to see signs of the barns, the bunkhouses, but they were hidden from sight. Like a wild snowstorm in January's Chicago where the tiny snowflakes fell incessantly and whitened the world around them. But this was August! And far removed from the storms with soft, quiet flakes that slicked the city streets and caused the children to cheer as schools temporarily closed, this storm was loud, brutal, ferocious. She shuddered at the thought of an unprotected person left to withstand the beating that nature, in the form of a hailstorm such as this, would bring. She hugged herself instinctively.

Then suddenly it was over. The air seemed brightened for a moment as the stones slowed down and the barns came back into view. The wind had disappeared, leaving a calmness over the area. The silence, after the seemingly endless clatter of hailstones, was deafening.

She looked out across the prairie and to the fields of whiteness that lay everywhere. A solid, thick layer of the fallen stones covered all the ground in sight. Like winter, despite the month of the year. She ran to the door, her curiosity getting the better of her. The air, when she threw the door open, while cooler than the morning's, was still and summerlike, The sun was once again beginning to shine, putting forth a brightness that was almost blinding after the two days of grayness that they had been experiencing.

She bent down to pick up a couple of the stones on the ground before her. They were cold and white, firmly packed snowballs, not made by mischievous little childrens' hands, but by the natural storm process of those high greenish clouds. They were melting almost as quickly as they had arrived, she noticed, feeling the cool water run in trickles down her wrist. It wouldn't be long until the white cover that hovered over the ground would be gone again.

Robin was overcome by a sense of awe, by a deep appreciation for the complexity of nature.

The storm was over. The sky was once again sunny and soon the ranch would be running normally again, just as it had before the signs of the coming storm.

Yes, the whiteness would disappear, but what damage had been done to the area? How had Ridley Ranch stood up to the challenge of nature? Robin remembered the bright look in Alex's eye before the storm. As she looked across to the barn, she saw the door open and the owner of the ranch stepped out, followed by Gregory and a handful of ranch hands. They started off, shoulders squared, to find the answer to that question.

The ranch house itself was quickly surveyed, with no signs of damage to its sturdily built structure. Within minutes, the signs of solid whiteness in the outside world began to fade. The hailstones that covered the open ground shrank quickly to mere soft, wet masses, leaving behind a land no longer looking parched and dry as the moisture penetrated the summer soil.

Soon life went on as usual inside the big house, as they waited for word from the range about the condition of the rest of the ranch.

Gregory brought the first news, riding excitedly back to the ranch building on top of his palomino, letting her loose in the corral, and running pell-mell for the house.

"Robin! Sara!" he cried, bouncing in the kitchen door to bring his news. "Did you ever see such a storm?"

Robin and Sara, heads bent together over a game of Scrabble while waiting for the bread to finish baking in the nearby oven, turned to him anxiously.

"Is everyone all right? The stock?" Sara's questions came plummeting out.

"None of the hands got hurt," he stated proudly, reminding Robin of his father. "And as far as the stock goes, Dad is mighty pleased at the number that were safely led to shelter before the storm hit. Of course, we're bound to find as time goes on that some head are missing, because no matter how hard we look, it's hard to locate them all on a spread as big as this one. But Dad says we could have lost a lot, if the guys hadn't been on the ball."

He pushed his hat back on his head, the motion bringing a lump to Robin's throat. Even at his age, he was so much like his father. What would he be like when he reached manhood? When he grew up? She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder with affection. After all, she reprimanded herself, she would probably never find out. By the time he had grown to such a degree, she would be long gone from the Ridley Ranch.

"How about the buildings?" Sara went on with her questioning.

"The barns and stable are fine. There was a bit of damage to the big bunkhouse roof, but the guys are already putting that right. The only real mess is the big shed behind the main barn, where Dad stored some of the heavy equipment. The roof has pretty well collapsed, and one wall had been pulled loose, ripping up the main beams. The whole thing is going to be pulled down, because Dad says it's not safe. They're going to knock the rest of the whole building down. You ought to come out and watch. It sure beats playing Scrabble!"

The two girls laughed at his manlike enthusiasm.

"Sure," Sara piped up, "we'll come out and see the big crash with you."

Robin pulled the deliciously browned bread from the oven, and the trio headed off to the site of the damage.

Chapter 18