Chapter Sixteen
Sunday dinners at the ranch had become Eloise’s favorite tradition. The weekly family meal was the big family event that every foster child dreamed of. This was also just one of the things she was going to miss about moving out. Today’s pot roast filled the house with savory aromas while she, Catherine, and Joanna peeled potatoes at the kitchen table.
Quinn and his brothers carried dishes and silverware into the dining room, but Aunt Eileen had thrown them out of the kitchen whenever they threatened to help with dinner. The working dynamics of this family always made her smile.
“I haven’t seen Danny. Is he in the barn with Uncle Sean and Finn?” Catherine glanced over her shoulder.
Eloise shook her head. “He fell asleep in the car on the way home from church. He went upstairs to bed for a short nap.”
“He did say something about a headache.” Hannah stood by her aunt chopping carrots.
“I think all those people were a bit overwhelming for him.” Aunt Eileen dropped her carrots into the massive pot.
“Hasn’t the VA assigned him a therapist yet?” Her hands still, Hannah looked over her shoulder.
Shaking her head, Eloise sighed. “No, he reported as told, was given a pile of forms to fill out and then nothing. Meanwhile, instead of becoming more lighthearted, he seems to be slipping away. It didn’t help any getting a letter the other day informing him of a status re-evaluation.”
Aunt Eileen stopped stirring the pot and looked up. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”
“I don’t know. Danny said it’s normal, they do that from time to time, but I could tell it has him even more unsettled.”
Quinn appeared in the doorway, sleeves rolled up. “Need any help?”
“Nope.” Aunt Eileen placed the cover on the pot and turning around, placed her hands on Quinn’s back, and gave him a nudge. “Go wait with the rest of the men.”
His eyes widened and leveled with Eloise’s. With a slight shrug, she smiled at him, delighted when he winked back at her before joining his brothers and cousins.
Outside the kitchen window, a brownish haze seemed to be blowing in.
“It’s getting awfully windy out there,” Eloise commented casually.
“Yeah.” From the sink, Aunt Eileen looked out the window. “Sally May’s knees were bothering her yesterday. She says the weathermen have it wrong. The little storm is going to be a doozy.”
“Uh-oh.” Catherine looked up from her potato. “Sally May’s knees are never wrong.”
“Is that why Uncle Sean and Finn are in the barn on a Sunday afternoon?”
Aunt Eileen nodded. “Just making sure everything is secure. The radio’s calling for high winds by evening.”
Hannah gathered potato peelings and dumped them into the trash, while Eloise placed the potatoes in the pot.
“Speaking of secure,” Catherine dried her hands on a dish towel, “Connor mentioned something about the horses getting skittish.”
“Already?” Hannah’s brow furrowed. “Usually they don’t act up until the storm’s closer.”
“You know as well as I do that the horses know before we do.” Catherine shrugged. “They’ve been restless all morning.”
“Hmm.” Hannah looked outside the window, her eyes narrowing. “I’m starting to agree the weathermen may have underestimated the incoming storm.”
Aunt Eileen stood by her niece. “There goes Connor. I’m guessing he’s thinking the same thing you are and going to check on the horses.”
The wind had picked up enough to scatter leaves across the yard, the trees swaying with each gust.
Quinn appeared in the doorway again, Ryan and Morgan at his side. “The leaves out front are blowing like a whirlpool. We’re heading out to help Uncle Sean fill the troughs and cover the feeders.”
In the short time Eloise had been here, there hadn’t been any storms. She’d just assumed that the lack of rain was perfectly normal for dry West Texas. It hadn’t occurred to her that if a storm did hit, it could be a problem. Though everyone seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride, something felt very different about the casual determination with which everyone was preparing. “Should I be doing something to help?”
“No.” Aunt Eileen patted her arm. “Dust storms happen in this part of the country all the time. We’re going to let everyone else do their thing to secure the situation, which basically means, make the animals comfortable so the wind and rain doesn’t unsettle them, and keep the food sources as free of dust as possible. For now, we’ll let this roast simmer to perfection. Then we’ll all sit down for a nice dinner.”
“How long will the storm last?” She couldn’t keep her eyes off the gusts of wind raising the leaves in swirls outside and how the skyline seemed to be darkening faster than earlier in the day.
“Depends.” Aunt Eileen shrugged, tossing more potatoes in the pot.
“On what?”
“On if the weathermen are right, or Sally May is.”
She had no idea if the woman was serious or teasing, but somehow she felt sure if a tornado came through, as long as she was with the Farradays, all would be well. Lifting her gaze to the ceiling, she wished that feeling extended to Danny. Him, she was still worried about. If only she knew what the VA was up to.
Followed by most of the men in the family, Quinn hurried into the house, brushing dust from his sleeves.
Uncle Sean was the last one inside, securing the door behind him. “Good thing we installed new windows last year.”
Aunt Eileen’s mouth briefly drew into a thin line. “That bad?”
Her husband nodded. “Temps dropping too fast. Dust is already starting to settle. I’m going to say Sally May’s knees are going to be right.”
Moving to stand at Eloise’s side, Quinn gently brushed her cheek before turning to face the rest of the room. “We’ve moved most of the vehicles and some of the equipment into the garages, and covered and secured the ones that don’t fit.”
Uncle Sean nodded. “And the barns and outbuildings are locked and secured, vents closed. Hopefully there’ll be minimal dust seepage.”
“Good.” Aunt Eileen nodded.
For a ranch family, preparing for a little dust up was just another day at work. Quinn just wished things weren’t happening so fast. Everything in him said this was going to be a doozy of a duster, and his uncle looked to be thinking the same thing.
“Well.” Aunt Eileen slapped her hands together and smiled at everyone in the room. “Dinner is almost ready. I suggest y’all settle down for a bit and I’ll whistle when supper is served.”
Several heads bobbed as everyone scattered.
Seeing the concern in Eloise’s eyes, he reached out and took hold of her hand. “You okay?”
She nodded, her gaze lifting upward to the ceiling. “You guys look like you’ve got everything under control.”
“It’s Danny you’re worried about?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s been napping an awfully long time. I’m torn between checking on him and leaving him be.”
“It’s okay to check on him.” Quinn wished he had some soothing words for her. Truth was he had no clue what was best for a person suffering from PTSD, but he did know that sitting here worrying wasn’t good for Eloise. “If you’d like, I’ll go with you.”
A dim light returned to her eyes, some of the worry—but not all—slipping away. “Thank you.”
Taking the hand he held in his and lifting it to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “You can always count on me to have your back. Always.”
A smile touched the corners of his mouth. Ever so softly, she muttered, “Ditto.”
Still holding her hand, he followed her slow pace climbing the stairs. He could feel the tension building in her as she tightened her grip. Halfway down the hall, Danny’s door stood slightly ajar.
She tapped lightly. “Danny?” When he didn’t answer, she inched the door open.
Looking over her shoulder, he could see what she did. The bed made with military precision, corners crisp enough to bounce a quarter. The clothes that usually littered the chair had vanished.
“Danny?” she repeated, her voice sounding small in the empty room.
Letting go of her hand, Quinn looked into the bathroom. Empty. The counters wiped clean. This was not a good sign. Turning back into the room, he could see the closet door hung open, the hangers empty. No sign of the duffle bag he’d arrived with. On the perfectly centered pillow lay an envelope with Eloise’s name neatly printed across the front.
Moving ever so slowly toward the bed, Eloise reached over, her fingers trembling as she picked up the envelope.
Coming up beside her, Quinn placed his hands on her shoulders. If he could think of something appropriate, he would say it, but nothing came to mind. All he could do was stand there and be ready when she needed a shoulder to cry on, because if there was one thing he knew was certain from the condition of the room, she was not going to be happy with whatever the note had to say.
A stronger gust rattled the windows. Outside he could see a dark wall of dust building in the distance. As if punctuating his observations, lights overhead flickered a moment before shining brightly again. Not sure what else to do, he waited for her to open the letter.
Her hands still trembling, she read the letter to herself. Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and handed Quinn the paper. “He’s going back to Chicago.”
Quickly, he glanced at what Danny had to say. Basically, he knew the VA would cut his benefits, he knew his sister would have to carry his weight, and he knew that she was falling in love with Quinn and he didn’t want to be a fifth wheel. For a short instant, he stumbled over the words falling in love, but brushed them aside. This was no time to linger on how he felt about her or how she felt about him. They had a bigger problem on their hands. If Danny was heading for Chicago, then he was out there somewhere and Quinn would bet his last dollar, Danny had never been in a dust storm and had no idea what he was in for.