But the way she's looking at me—lips slightly parted—makes our good intentions feel impossible.
Suddenly, thunder crashes overhead with bone-rattling force. It’s followed by violent lightning that splits the darkening sky.
Edison's ears snap to attention. He scrambles onto a boulder, throws back his head, and releases a primal, wolf-like howl that raises every hair on my arms. Then he dashes off, spooked by the storm.
"What's happening, Daddy Cameron?" Posey races toward us as the first fat raindrops splatter against the rocks.
At once, the sky tears open. Sheets of water slam down with the force of a broken dam. Within seconds, we're drenched to the skin.
I hoist Posey into my arms, my other hand instinctively reaching for Tara. She grabs it without hesitation.
"Edison!" I shout in the storm's roar.
"Where did he go?" Tara shouts, water streaming down her face. Her white t-shirt is now completely transparent against her skin.
"He'll be back. We'll be okay."
But sheets of water pummel us with relentless force.
I check my phone. Still no signal, no lifeline back to civilization. We're completely cut off.
Then Edison comes bounding back through the downpour, barking like a mad dog.
He jumps up, his paws hitting my chest for emphasis. Then his head jerks toward a slight hill, his body language screaming for us to follow him with every fiber of his being.
We're no match for Edison's speed, but we push through the deluge in his wake.
Rain pounds so hard I can barely see three feet ahead, each step a gamble on unstable ground. Posey clings tight to my chest as I try to shield both her and Tara from the worst of the storm's fury.
As we stumble forward, following Edison's confident lead, I catch glimpses of something solid emerging from the gray curtain of rain. Not just trees or rocks. Something man-made.
"Look!" I point ahead as the outline sharpens into focus.
A small stone structure sits nestled among the pines, weathered but intact. Ancient fieldstone walls, and a slanted roof that promises salvation from this biblical downpour.
Edison jumps ahead and pounces on the wooden door. He bounds inside without hesitation, shaking rain from his coat as thunder crashes overhead.
"Is it safe?" Tara asks as we navigate the uneven stone threshold.
We enter the space, peering into the gloom. Dusty light filters through grimy windows, illuminating a single room with rough-hewn beams overhead.
A stone fireplace dominates one wall, cold ashes. Basic furniture scattered around—a wooden table, mismatched chairs, what looks like an old sleeping alcove built into the far corner.
"Looks like an old hunting cabin."
Edison circles the hearth twice before settling with a satisfied grunt.
As soon as I set Posey down, she explores with a four-year-old fearlessness. I watch as she runs her small hands along the stone walls. "It's like a fairy tale house! Are there trolls?"
"No trolls," Tara assures her, wringing water from her soaked hair. "Just us taking shelter until the storm passes."
I slam the door shut against the howling wind and survey our temporary sanctuary.
We're drenched, stranded, and completely cut off from the outside world. The isolation should terrify me. But instead, I feel something else entirely.Relief.
For the first time in months, maybe years, there's nowhere else I need to be. No phones ringing, no meetings, no Maxwell Sterling breathing down my neck about contracts.
Just the three of us and Edison, safe from the storm.
