he murmured softly. “I get pretty damn lonesome myself.”
Rising, he slapped his hand against his thigh again. “Come on,” he said, letting the dog know it was okay to follow him outside. “You can bunk with me tonight.”
Once outside, Luke paused to look up at the sky. “Looks like we might get us some rain tonight,” he said, then glanced over to see if the dog was listening and grinned when he saw that its ears were perked up. “Good sleepin’ weather, right?”
In response, the dog let out a yip and darted for the bunkhouse. Laughing, Luke watched the dog run. Though he still favored his right rear leg, he was clearly on the mend. Pleased with the animal’s progress, Luke stuck his hands in his pockets and continued to follow, wondering what Monty would say when he learned that Luke had invited the dog to spend the night with them.
As he neared the bunkhouse, a clap of thunder sounded in the distance and the wind picked up, scattering dead leaves across the path. He lifted his head to look at the sky again, and saw that dark clouds were roiling in from the north.
“Not just some rain,” he amended, frowning at the boiling sky. “Looks like we’re in for a real frog strangler.”
He’d no sooner made the comment, than his thoughts segued to Lauren and the tin yet to be replaced on the roof of the lodge. A blowing rain would test the soundness of a good roof. No telling what kind of damage it would do to one as old as the one on the lodge. And if it hailed…well, she might as well kiss that roof goodbye, ’cause he seriously doubted that old tin could withstand the beating hail would give it.
What was worse, she was bound to lose her electrical power. Rural service usually went down in a bad storm and was slow to return after the weather passed over. He doubted there was a generator at the lodge or that Lauren would know how to run it if there was one.
He started toward his truck, intending to drive to the lodge and make sure she and the old woman were all right, but stopped just shy of reaching it. He couldn’t go chasing over there to check on her, he told himself. She was a grown woman and capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t need him fussin’ over her, and doubted she’d appreciate him droppin’ by uninvited.
But if something were to happen to her, then what? The woman was a greenhorn when it came to country life. She wouldn’t know how to prepare for a storm and probably didn’t have the supplies on hand to ride one out.
Firming his mouth, he strode to his truck. As he started to climb in, a bark stopped him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the dog had followed. He glanced at the barn, weighing the time it would take to return the dog to the feed room. Sighing, he scooped up the dog and plunked him down on the passenger seat. The dog sat up, tongue lolling, and looked out the windshield.
Halfway to Lauren’s, it started sprinkling. By the time Luke pulled up in front of the lodge, the rain was coming down so hard, he couldn’t see two feet in front of the truck. He pulled a slicker from the back seat, shrugged it on, then yanked his hat down farther over his brow and opened his door. Before he could react, the dog leaped out of the truck. Within seconds his coat was plastered to his hide, making him look like an overgrown drowned rat.
As Luke clomped his way around back through the puddles already forming on the ground, he noticed that Lauren’s car was gone. She’d probably hightailed it for town the minute she’d seen the storm clouds building, he thought. A good thing, in his estimation. Her absence also proved that she was a greenhorn. A person who couldn’t handle a little rain had no business living in this neck of the woods and so far from civilization.
Among the building supplies stacked on the back porch, he found several rolls of plastic. Tucking one under his arm, he grabbed the ladder, carried it out into the rain and braced it against the edge of the roof.
“Stay,” he instructed the dog, then climbed up the ladder, keeping his head down to protect his face from the stinging bullets of rain. He made quick work of rolling out the plastic and securing it with logs he borrowed from the firewood rack. By the time he reached the ground for the last time, he was soaked to the skin and winded.
Confident that the plastic would protect the lodge’s interior from water damage, he glanced toward the cabin where he knew Lauren stayed. Set five hundred or more feet from the rear of the lodge, it, too, was surrounded by trees. He could hear the screech of metal as the wind pushed the limbs across the cabin’s tin roof. He wavered, wondering if he should put plastic on that roof, as well. With a sigh of resignation, he gathered up another roll of plastic and the ladder.
“Stay,” he said to the dog again, who was standing under the lodge’s back porch, watching him expectantly. The dog looked from him to the rain and sank down on its haunches.
Smart dog, Luke thought, as he made his way to the cabin.
He was halfway across the cabin’s roof, when he heard a commotion below. Wondering what was going on, he slid to the edge of the roof and peered down. Lauren stood in front of the cabin, wearing a yellow raincoat and looking up at him from beneath its hood.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, to be heard over the pounding rain.
“Puttin’ plastic over the roof,” he yelled back. “Almost done.”
“You might have asked first.”
“Didn’t know you were here. Car’s gone.”
“Rhena went to town for groceries.”
Damn fool woman, he thought, and shifted to start down the ladder. “I better go and look for her,” he said. “Roads flood when we get this much rain in such a short time.”
“That’s not necessary,” she called back, stopping him. “She called earlier. Said she’s staying in town with Maude until the storm is over.”
Knowing Maude, Luke thought, Rhena probably didn’t have much say in the matter. The owner of the local grocery store and the biggest gossip in town, Maude bossed everybody around, no matter what their age.
With a sigh he stepped onto the roof again. “Get back inside and out of the rain,” he ordered.
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
He paused, sure that he’d misunderstood, then moved back to the edge of the roof and saw that she was still standing in the rain, glaring up at him, her hands fisted on her hips. “Then stand there and drown,” he told her. “Makes me no nevermind.”
Muttering curses under his breath, he picked up a log, dropped it over the plastic to secure it, then tugged the sheet, walking backward, to spread it out more. He was bending to pick up another log, when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Lauren had grabbed the plastic roll and was slip-sliding her way across the roof, dragging it behind her.
Stubborn woman, he thought irritably. She was going to slip on the slick tin and fall and break her neck…if lightning didn’t strike her first.
Well, if she did fall, that was her problem, he told himself, and continued to lay out plastic. She obviously didn’t have the good sense God gave a goose.
Amazingly, they finished laying out the plastic without incident, then Luke followed Lauren down the ladder to the ground. Rain was streaming down his face and dripping off his chin as he folded the ladder, preparing to leave.
Her
