Mammoth Secrets (17 page)

Beside him, Tony coughed. His eyes, downcast, refused to meet hers.

“That's a far cry from the letters you sent me.” Eli shot a sly smile. “Why don't you read her a line from the one you got, buddy?”

“I'd rather not.” Tony stood tall, head straight. A muscle jumped at his clenched jaw.

“Oh, Tony...I…” Foot to the stair tread, she caught his eye. Seeing the full force of his embarrassed fury, she was rooted to the spot. “I'm sorry.”

“What are the odds, really?” Eli cracked open a can of soda to take a long pull, still smiling. “Of all the soldiers in Afghanistan, you write to two of us, and Tony transferred to my platoon?”

“Small world, I guess.” Her voice shook. She clenched the railing. “I'm sorry if I hurt you. Either one of you.”

“It was worth coming all the way out here just to see the look on your face!” Eli clapped his buddy on the shoulder.

“Yeah.” Tony swallowed, though Eli's easy humor didn't show in his expression. “Just about.”

“With the tour ending, we thought why not come and meet the girl who's kept us company the past six months.” Eli smirked. “Both of us. Seemed like a good thing to do before re-up.”

“Re-up? You're going back?” She gaped at Tony. “Both of you?”

“That's right.” Tony swallowed. “Don't have much to stay home for.”

“Oh, no.” Eden shook her head so hard her brain rattled. “Don't you dare lay that one on me.”

“Tony didn't actually realize your mistake until we went on leave to Diego Garcia.” Eli swept her into his arms, unfazed as she pushed against his chest with both hands. No question of his intent as he held her, trapped against him. “White sandy beaches, beautiful island, just the sort of place you'd love. We both thought so.” He nuzzled a moment into her neck, mouth exploring where it met her shoulder as she jerked away. “Ah, Eden. It was nice while it lasted.”

“If you say so.” Eden gave him the force of her elbow to his midsection. “How long did you know I was writing to Tony, too?”

The glint in Eli's stare indicated it was a bit longer than he'd let on.

“So that's why you kicked things up hotter, is that it?” Eden fumed, jabbed her index finger into his shoulder. “You got some nasty ideas about what love is, Eli Jones.”

“We had some laughs.” He shrugged. “Just something to pass the time, a million miles away.”

“You knew Tony was falling for me, didn't you?”

“That's right. I saved him a heap of trouble, because girl, you're nothing but,” Eli said as he stood. “Hey, Tony. I'm grabbing a case of beer from inside.”

“Good luck, pal.” Eden shot a nasty stare. “It's a dry county.”

“Well, Missouri's not, and Branson, here we come.” Eli pulled his keys out. With leering gaze, he reviewed her head to toe as he opened the driver's door, unabashed, unashamed. “Sure you won't come with us?”

“I wouldn't bet on it.” Eden shot daggers, keeping him trained in her sights. Her mind drifted to the notes she'd sent him, the casual words of intimacy, so easy to write to a man she never thought she'd stare at face to face. Like right now.

“My invitation wasn't a lie.” Eli's voice resonated on her eardrums, sent tiny shivers down her spine. A wayward plastic grocery bag cartwheeled down the street on a gust of breeze, as a fast-moving cloud blotted the sun.

“You honestly expect me to hop in your fancy car and head off for a weekend with you?” She seethed. “After what you did to Tony? To me?”

“Please.” Eli opened the driver's door. Collapsed heavy behind the wheel. “If both of you could lighten up a bit and see this for what it really was. No one got hurt.”

“I'd as soon we said goodbye here.” Tony's voice cracked.

Eden's eyes welled as she sat in the bookended chair, the checkers table between, gave the red and black board a little push. “I guess this means we won't be growing old together.”

“Nope.” His lips hardened.

The weight in her chest shifted to something altogether different. Anger. “You listen here, Anthony Atkins. Don't you dare pin your chance at life on a girl you never even kissed. You think of your mama. Your sisters back in Kansas. They need you here, don't they?”

Tony swept his attention back to the vehicle where Eli waited, drumming the wheel with his thumbs. “Eden. You hurt me. You need to know that.”

She crossed her arms in a huff. “Well, thanks for coming out here to tell me in person.”

“You don't get it, do you? Your words, your promises.” His stare froze her. He continued, ice-cold anger spearing each word. “You can't do that to people. This stop wasn't just to say you broke my heart. We were passing through, anyway. Eli thought you'd find it funny, maybe even come with us.”

“Goes to show he never really knew me at all, doesn't it?” Eden sniffed, dared a pleading look, and died a little on the spot at his solemn expression. “You did, though. Didn't you?”

“I looked forward to your…to your letters.” He squeezed her hand. “It meant something. And the guys out there, they need something—someone—to look forward to when they're out there in the field. You never know when you start patrol if this will be the day your truck gets blown to smithereens, like your buddy's did the day before.”

“Oh, Tony—”

“Let me finish, Eden.” He took her hand, kissed its palm, and released it, bittersweet and slow. “When you come home, it's not all wine and roses that you let me daydream about. Especially when the girl you thought you knew, well—when she turns out to be just some chick with a sick hobby of leading on soldiers. The dream crumbles, but the nightmare sticks. Think about that next time you lead a guy on, Eden Dale.” He pressed a kiss, dry and cold, to her cheek, then left her on the pharmacy steps.

In the driver's seat, Eli gunned the engine, his radio station tuned to the weather channel.

“…Thunderstorms, and high winds expected. Tornado watch in effect for the greater Thayer area.” Eli's sports car drove down Main Street under the bridge, and off toward the greener pastures of Thayer and beyond.

The ambulance buzzed past a moment later, Luke at the wheel. Their gazes met through the glare on the windshield, but he drove by without slowing.

A blast of wind tugged a strand of hair across her face, obscuring her vision; in her mind's eye, that fistful of nickels still lay scattered on the table. She trudged back to work, wondering if she'd ever be able to mend that fence with the best guy she knew.

Tony was right about one thing. After the mess she'd made, she no longer believed she had the right to try.

 

 

 

 

24

 

As the lunch crowd faded to early dinner diners, talk focused on the growing storm. Outside, gray-green clouds bunched, massed together over the slice of valley.

“Twister's comin.” Quentin Marshall, the high school principal, stepped to the register to pick up his to-go order, tugging a wallet out.

“Our trough doesn't get hit. Don't you fret now.” Papaw spoke with surety from the back counter, but Lilah no longer felt soothed by those words.

She traded Quentin's twenty and change for his regular: club sandwich on wheat, no pickle. Keeping voice low, she asked. “You really think so?”

They turned to the small television mounted by the bar, set to a storm watch. A weatherman gestured over a blotch of red, orange, and yellow storm path; it swirled right to the boot heel of Missouri. Mammoth lay smack in the zone under tornado watch, and a shudder raced her spine.

Marshall stepped to the door. “If not here, close by.” A gust almost ripped the door handle from Quentin's grasp. Dust blew down the street in a small swirl. “We'll be setting up shelter at the high school, same as always.” Raising his to-go bag, the principal set off toward the water tower at a walk-jog pace.

The glass door shuddered, rattling at the hinge.

She pulled it tight. Maybe she'd lived in California a bit too long, but the news station with its swirling Doppler maps of storms moving in had Lilah scared witless.

“Don't listen to Quentin. He just wants to use our budget to go to that emergency management seminar in Little Rock every year,” Nana scoffed, placing tender fingers to Lilah's elbow.

“Sure about that?”

They watched the bruising sky together, Papaw silent at her elbow as they went out to the sidewalk and looked south.

“Something about that shade of gray-green, gives me the willies.” Lilah gestured to the mottled clouds as they hot-footed it over the trees.

The breeze whipped leaves from moaning, wavering branches. Leaves whooshed down the street in swirling dervishes. Farther down Main Street, a wind chime jangled a mad tune.

Nana frowned at the chip bag that attached itself to her shoe and pushed it into a concrete trash bin. “No weather here. Storm'll skip us by.”

“That's what you always say.” Lilah choked on the nervous laugh in her throat.

“All the same, why don't we close shop early?” The crags of Nana's face softened. “You'll be all right, honey. Want me to come back, walk you home after I get him settled with his crossword?”

“No. That's silly.” Lilah inhaled. “Eden's here. We'll get it sorted out and come home. Does she have a storm cellar?”

“No. Papaw didn't think it was worth the extra money. No need here, remember?”

“So that's why you dive in the hall closet, then?” Lilah's pitch sounded off in her ears. “Cover yourself with pillows?”

“That was just the one time. Keep your ear to the radio,” Nana said, though she seemed to wrestle with herself. She sighed. “If you're that worried, there's a storm cellar at the church across the street.”

Lilah turned back into the diner.

Eden paid out their last customer, handing him his to-go boxes, hustling the contractor along.

“Should be quite a blow.” Tom stood, tugged his belt loops. “Best be getting home before the Mrs. locks me out of our root cellar.”

Lilah's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Think a tornado's really coming?”

“Never hurts to prepare. Plus, with the kids off at college, it's like date night come early.”

The door banged shut as fat raindrops fell, splattering the windows and sidewalk.

“That's it, then.” Eden tugged the door tight and wiggled the keys in the lock. “Stormin' already at Hardy. That gives us about ten minutes to get home and batten things down.”

“But, Eden, there's no cellar there.”

“We don't need one, sweetie.” Eden cupped her sister's cheek, her tone a reassuring reminder. “Tornados don't come here.”

Lilah forced an inhale, exhale. Already, her pulse pounded adrenaline.

The streets were empty. The daylight faded from bright blue to an off shade, as color drained from the world.

The two hoofed it uphill, trudging into the wind like they had as schoolgirls.

“Maybe we should've asked Tom for a ride.” Lilah shot her sister a look over her shoulder.

“You could drive, you know.” Eden smirked. “I guess you only ride around with your new boyfriend in that fancy car.”

“He's not—” Wind whipped curls of blonde into Lilah's eyes, obscuring vision. “I don't know what he is.” She pressed on, ignoring the barking laugh from her sister and the vicious wind, concentrating on each step. No time now for questions without answers.

The river flowed in a swift mass of white-watered, gusting waves.

They hustled past the houses on the lower hill. A father cracked windows open, while the mother dragged kids and toys inside. Everyone prepared for the worst.

“Ever think maybe Papaw's wrong to not believe in basements?” Lilah raised her voice over the wind as stinging rain drove cold spears into her skin.

“Ever think maybe you should have stayed in California?” Eden shook her head and wiped streaming rainwater from her eyes.

“Yeah. Give me an earthquake any day.” Lilah scooped drenched hair back from her face. “A minute of terror, then done. None of this ‘early warning' business.”

Eden withered a stare before she spoke. “I took you in. I give you room and free board, and all you do is complain about it.”

“I complain?” Lilah shrieked back.

Across the street, a tree branch wrenched from its trunk. Wood splintered to kindling as it crashed to the ground.

“It's a wonder what Pastor Jake sees in you. C'mon.” Eden pressed on, homeward.

“What about you? What about those soldiers you led on into showing up today?” Lilah's temper got the best of her. “At least Luke finally got wise.”

Eden pushed ahead. “That's just plain mean.”

Lilah stepped toward her sister, heart dropping. “Eden, I—”

Crack!

The sky electrified with bright blue lightning—a fearsome glittering hand skittered under the clouds, its target exploding with terrifying accuracy. The oak tree illuminated with the charge, glowed against the blackness, then shattered in a splintering blast.

Lilah fell back as the air charged with smoke and burning wood. The hundred-year-old oak crashed to earth in a ripping explosion of dirt, disintegrated timber, and flame. The once proud tree blocked the road between them. Orange flames engulfed the dry, brittle bark in the howling wind, but rain doused the fire, fast.

Lilah scrabbled around the tree, taking in the horror of a crushed roof, caved in, pink insulation exposed. “Edie!”

“I'm here...” Eden sat on her rump, hands cradling her left foot. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

Lilah saw the blue-black bruise forming above her white sock. “Lean on me.”

They stumbled a few steps before she hesitated, turned to Eden. “Should we have checked to see if anyone was home?”