“Well, the thunderstorms over the Rockies can be brutal and dangerous, Darlin’. Just don’t go out walking in it. Okay? We get a number of tourists killed every year because they’re caught out in the Salt Range mountains and lightning strikes them.”
“No worries. I’ll just stick to the porch.”
“Good. I’ll give you a call when I can get out of this tangled mess on the highway. It’s probably going to take an hour.”
She laughed a little. “Turn around and go back to Kassie’s Café and get some lunch. Might as well make good use of your time there.”
Roan chuckled. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be in touch. . . .”
She pressed off the phone call, feeling warmth replace her anxiety. Shiloh didn’t want to spook Roan by confiding in him that she felt Anton nearby. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. She pushed the phone down into her jean pocket and went back to work dusting the living room. Wanting to tell Roan while on the phone that she had fallen in love him, Shiloh wished she were more bold about it. He was a good man and he cared for her. She could remember when her father was going to be delayed on a flight or caught up in city traffic, that he would always call her mother so she wouldn’t worry. Yes, Roan did love her.
Some of her anxiety bled off as she busied herself. The rumble of the thunder was rapidly drawing near. She luxuriated in the growling, rolling noise. This would be her first Wyoming thunderstorm. And although they got some powerful storms in New York City, she sensed this one was different in every way. Perhaps, untamed. Wild. Unpredictable. Just like the West. There was nothing sedate, orderly, or controlled about the West compared to the East. Her mind ranged over the differences between Easterners and Westerners. The East was tamed first by people coming from Europe. It had over a hundred years of settlement before pioneers started pushing West.
Finished with the dusting, Shiloh washed her hands and put the cloth away in the pantry. The thunder was so close that she could feel the fine vibration of the sound rippling through the cabin. She loved that sensation, glorying in it. Going to the kitchen sink to wash her hands, she saw how suddenly dark the sky had become. The sunlight had been snuffed out, and roiling gray, black, and gunmetal-colored clouds were ominously forming over the valley, above the cabin. She was mesmerized at how fast the clouds were moving. Quickly drying her hands, Shiloh went to the closet, pulled out her Levi’s jacket, and shrugged it on. She had her hiking boots on and between the two she’d be protected against any rain that might be swirling round, pushed by the wind.
Walking excitedly down the hall, she peeked out the window, making sure no one was out there on the large back porch. The lush grass was whipping around like living hair on the skin of the earth, driven by the approaching storm. It was almost black as the center of the storm was nearly upon the cabin. Thrilled, Shiloh stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The wind gusted sharply, lifting Shiloh’s hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail, as she turned around. Excited, absorbing the massive gray cloud that was nearly upon the cabin, she knew it meant a serious wall of wind would strike shortly. The breadth of the veil beneath the churning black and gray clouds that slowly seemed to rotate clockwise beneath the unseen cumulus far above reminded her of a tornado in the making. It scared but thrilled her. The scent of rain was heavy on the air. The lush grass, which always reminded her of a woman’s long, flowing hair, was laid flat against the earth as the first powerful gust struck the cabin. It pushed her back against the door, the wind howling and fierce.
The entire area suddenly became dark. The wall cloud was thick, circular, and striking the area where the cabin sat. Trees to her left bent and groaned, the wind at least seventy to eighty miles an hour. The air was cold, cutting and howling around her, pummeling her body like invisible fists. She saw upper branches on the cottonwood trees snap, break, and sail off into the wind, carried across the yard. These weren’t little branches. They were huge, massive limbs!
Her excitement mixed with awe and a little fear as she’d never experienced a storm of this mega proportion. Just as Shiloh turned to open the door to seek shelter, she caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye. A hand gripped her by the neck, fingers digging deep, hurling her off the porch, slamming her into the grass.