“Those clouds look nasty, and there’s a lightning warning for this whole area,” I tell them. “Let’s patch this fence and barricade what wecan’t fix, and then I want everyone to head to the barn and get the horses put away before this storm hits. Spend the rest of the day safe in the bunkhouse.”
They nod, and we work together to patch the fence. Thunder rolls over us as we ride back to the barn, and just as we’re getting the horses brushed and put into stalls, the sky opens up in the loudest downpour I’ve ever seen.
I glance at Aiden, and he looks nervous.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, setting my hand on his shoulder.
“Iam,” he says, shaking his head, “but Aunt Wills won’t be. She hates storms, and this will freak her out.”
I nod, already feeling like shit that I’m not with her.
“As soon as I finish putting Billy away, I’ll go to the house,” I assure him.
“I’ve got Billy,” Aiden replies. “I’ll take care of it.”
He licks his lips and watches through the door as more rain pelts down.
“Thanks. I’ll head in. You go to the bunkhouse, you hear me? Go ride this out with the others.”
“I can come to the house to check in on Aunt Wills.”
“I’ve got her. If anything’s wrong, I’ll call you.”
He doesn’t look happy about it, but he nods. “Yeah, okay.”
I quickly check in with Dusty, and then I’m running for the house in an all-out sprint, through rain that feels like it’s trying to tear the skin from my body.
My poor cattle.
By the time I run up the stairs and onto the front porch, I look and feel like I’ve been swimming with my clothes on. I’m fully drenched. My jeans are heavy as fuck, but I don’t give a shit.
“Wills?” I call out as I burst through the front door. I stop to listen, but the only sound is my heart hammering in my chest. So I try again. “Wills?”
Nothing.
I run back to the kitchen, but she’s not here, and it’s dead quiet because it occurs to me that the power is out.
Shit, I have to get the generator running, but not until I find my girl.
I rush through the downstairs, and when I don’t find her, I take the stairs two at a time and poke my head into every room.
When I get to the bathroom off her old bedroom, I find a bucket with a bunch of cleaning supplies. Obviously, she was in here cleaning, but there’s no sign of her now.
“Willow!” I hurry down the hall and check our room. The bed is made, and the bathroom is sparkling and smells like cleaner. She obviously scrubbed this one first.
But no sign of her.
I rush back out and notice her studio door is closed, so I walk inside, and at first I don’t see her, but then movement in the corner catches my eye, and my chest feels like it cracks open and my heart stumbles right onto the floor.
She’s crouched in the corner, rocking, hugging her legs to her chest. Her headphones are on, and she’s mumbling with her eyes closed.
How am I supposed to get her attention without scaring the shit out of her?
I squat about three feet away from her. Everything in me wants to scoop her against me and hold her tight, consoling her.
But she’s shaking, in only a bra, and there are tear tracks on her cheeks, and I don’t want to startle her. Before touching her, I go find her a shirt and then return to the room, squatting before her once more. She hasn’t moved, and her bottom lip quivers.
Jesus, she’s breaking my heart.
