than the storm ever could. Should she question Caryn Roark again? Could it be someone from her compound, just some kids out for kicks, not willing to accept that consequences came from their random acts of terror?
Telling herself it really didn’t matter a whole lot at this point, Dana resigned herself to defeat. She couldn’t hold on to this land. Might as well accept that.
Well, whoever was behind these attacks might try to get the land, but they wouldn’t get what was left of the inside of her house. Her anger acting as a balm, she stepped back to look down at Stephen. “You okay, sport?”
He nodded. “Sorry I’m like a baby.”
“You’re not a baby. That little cry did us both good. Now here’s the plan. Remember that camping tent out in the barn?”
He nodded, his boy’s eyes lighting up. “Yeah, you won’t ever let me use the thing. Can’t put up the tent.”
“Well, today, you not only get to use it. You get to set it up.” She looked around. “Let’s see…how ’bout over there by that small cottonwood where it looks high and dry.”
“Okay, but why? Why do we need a tent, huh, Dana?”
Her eyes held a determined glint. “We’re going to sleep there tonight.”
“All right!” He danced around in a small circle. “In case they come back?”
“You got it, bud.”
Stephen regained his spunk, strutting around with a new purpose. “You gonna use the shotgun, Dana? We ain’t supposed to play with guns. No guns for Stephen.”
“I just might have to break that rule this once,” she said, her tone firm while her heart skipped and swayed like the beaten bluestems nearby. “I’ll show them they can’t get the best of us.”
The prairie at night was a live thing. Like a great rippling snake, the flat fields around the house slipped and curved and moved in a slithering symmetry. The new wheat and bluestems parried and tangled together in the whining wind, the cottonwoods moaned a soft, rustling lullaby, whispering their secrets to the bright stars that looked so close, Dana thought surely she could reach out and grab one for herself.
She’d never wished upon a star before, but tonight as she lay inside the small close confines of the sturdy tent they’d erected and stared out the opening to the night sky, she picked the evening star, and she said a little prayer for guidance, for strength, for control. Please, God, let my troubles be over. Let me find some peace, let me do the right thing, for Stephen, for myself. Let me do it right, for Mom and Dad.
She’d been thinking about moving to Kansas City for a long time. Tony called at least once a week, telling her of all the fun he was having, the restaurants, the parties, the entertainment, the wonderful social life. “You’re missing out, Dana. This is where the action is.”
Yeah, right. She knew Tony Martin. His only social life consisted of his computers and the Internet. The man lived and breathed technology. It had landed him a great, good-paying job, but it didn’t leave much room for real relationships. He was like a piece of shining tin, brilliant and gleaming on the outside, but shallow and hollow on the inside.
Which is why Dana had turned down his invitation to marry him and come live with him in the big city. Tony didn’t have an ounce of romance in him. Since he’d never taken the hint and even remotely tried to woo Dana back, since he just didn’t get that she had to have more than a live-in computer genius, since he had never once thought about anyone but himself, she’d sent him on his way, alone.
Tony was married to his work, plain and simple. He didn’t have an inkling of what was involved in hearts and flowers, and he certainly didn’t have the patience to deal with a slightly autistic, hyper preteen boy who had the emotional maturity of a seven-year-old. Stephen was one of the main reasons she and Tony weren’t together. They’d never discussed it; he’d never come right out and told her, but she knew by his words and actions that Tony didn’t want to deal with Stephen. Tony wanted her. He didn’t want her little brother.
But he was a good friend in spite of their breakup a couple of years ago, and he did have connections. And Stephen could thrive there with the proper therapy and some new doctors who actually understood his condition. Maybe it was time to cut her losses and head to Kansas City.
She glanced over toward the murky white silhouette of the Universal Unity Church, sitting in the distance like a giant piece of rock candy. The place had suffered little to no damage in the storm. Her neighbor’s good luck had held. And the strangest part, Caryn Roark had sent over two young girls with clothes and food for Dana and Stephen. She’d even extended an invitation for Dana and Stephen to stay at the church compound until they were back on their feet. Dana had declined the invitation, her memories of the meeting she’d had with Caryn Roark still fresh in her mind.
“We’re the only ones left,” Dana said again, wondering where Caryn got all the money to finance her operation. The woman was generous to a fault with the community, and that was part of what worried Dana about her neighbor. Caryn seemed to expect favors in return. “Something just doesn’t set right over there.”
Oh, well, soon it wouldn’t matter to Dana. Soon, she supposed, she and Stephen would be moving on. Once the dust settled and she found out just how much she had left and how much she could sell to make a little moving money, at least. After paying off her debts, she’d take her pittance and start over fresh somewhere else.
Only, in her heart, she wasn’t quite ready to give up the fight, even if she didn’t have much fight left. She didn’t think she had the courage or the fortitude to face such a formidable task. And she wasn’t about to go begging for charity, whatever Caryn Roark’s intentions were.
Instinctively she touched a hand to Stephen’s head, gently pushing a tuft of thick golden hair off his brow. The boy sighed again and flipped to his side in his Kansas City Royals sleeping bag.
Left alone with the stars and her worries, Dana again thought about the man named Bren. Bren. An unusual name for an unusual man. Definitely not a standard Kansas-type name. But then, she’d known from the start that Bren wasn’t from Kansas. Touching the pocket of her jeans, she remembered she had his card tucked inside. She’d kept it there, close, instead of putting it in the bottomless pit of her shoulder bag.
He’d said he’d help her. She’d been taught not to ask for help. It was going to be a long, lonely night. Or so she thought.
A creaking noise off in the distance grass made Dana’s head come up. A prickling of fear, like needles hitting the center of her spine, warned her that someone was nearby. She listened, her breath stopping, her eyes trying to penetrate the darkness, one hand on Stephen and the other one on the shotgun lying next to her left thigh.
Then everything shifted and moved. The night came to life as a brilliant light glistened near the farmhouse. A minute later an acrid smell drifted out over the prairie.
Fire. Someone was trying to burn what remained of her house!
Grabbing the shotgun, Dana pulled up out of the tent like a madwoman. “Hey, you—”
Her words were cut off by the shots that rang out into the night. Only, Dana hadn’t fired her gun yet.
Rolling back inside the tent, she hushed the now-wide-awake Stephen. “Stay down and stay quiet. Somebody’s trying
