two small children came rushing in, calling him Daddy. Buffalo Bob scooped them up in his arms, which was enough to convince Linnette that she had nothing to fear from him. Later, she’d met his wife, Merrily, and discovered there was a third child, an infant who kept the young mother so busy she could no longer work in the restaurant.
Linnette had some experience waiting tables. Years ago, while she was still in high school, she’d worked in a neighborhood diner.
“Do you have references?” Buffalo Bob had asked once the kids had gone upstairs and they were able to resume the interview.
“No. And I don’t have a place to live, either.” She might as well lay her cards on the table. The name of the establishment certainly encouraged that, she’d thought with a smile.
He’d smiled back, but then tried to sound stern. “The job comes with a hotel room. It isn’t the Ritz so don’t get your hopes up, but it’s clean and has a television. We live here ourselves.” He eyed her speculatively. “You running from the law?”
“Absolutely not!” She’d been shocked that he’d even asked such a question.
“We’re not looking for trouble here,” he warned.
“I’m not bringing any with me,” she informed him primly.
Whatever his doubts, Buffalo Bob had offered her the job and Linnette had settled into this small town, which in many respects was like the one she’d left—with a couple of exceptions. It was smaller, and Cal Washburn didn’t live there.
This was Linnette’s first day off after working ten days straight and she planned to explore the area. She’d already met a few people. Hassie Knight, who had to be at least eighty, owned the pharmacy and seemed to be the person everyone went to for guidance or advice. It reminded her of the way people in Cedar Cove confided in Charlotte Rhodes. Maddy McKenna ran the grocery; she lived somewhere outside town with her husband and two children, a girl and a little boy. Linnette had enjoyed meeting all four of them the previous Sunday and taken an instant liking to Maddy. When her newfound friend asked her to visit the ranch, the two kids seemed eager to show Linnette around, especially once they learned she’d never seen a real buffalo. “Bison,” they corrected her in unison.
Maddy’s husband, Jeb, was quiet, smiling readily at his wife and family, although Maddy carried most of the conversation. Linnette saw that Jeb walked with a limp, but he didn’t seem self-conscious about it. He seconded Maddy’s invitation to come out to the ranch.
The sky was overcast as Linnette got into her car. She and Maddy had met for coffee a few days earlier, and Maddy had given her written directions to their ranch. Linnette could hardly wait to tell Gloria about these instructions, which would definitely amuse her sister. As a cop, Gloria had heard plenty of convoluted and downright incomprehensible directions from members of the public.
According to Maddy’s notes, Linnette was to drive 2.3 miles south of town, turn left at the dying oak, then follow the road until the dip and the rural route box with the black lettering. From there, she was to … Linnette flipped over the page.
The color of the sky reminded her of the flat gray of the navy vessels that congregated in the Cove. In the state of Washington, that usually presaged rain. She was sure it meant the same thing here. Just her luck, too—her first day off.
The sky was growing perceptibly gloomier. And it was hot. The heat seemed oppressive for September, unlike home, but what surprised Linnette most was how still everything was. Even with her windows down, she couldn’t hear any birds. The road was completely deserted.
Then she saw it.
A mass of black, twisting, spiraling cloud in the distance. She recognized the characteristic funnel shape of a tornado. A tornado? Here? Now? This couldn’t be happening!
The next thought that flashed through her mind was: What should I do? Her medical training kept her levelheaded and calm as she analyzed the danger. Although the panic was quickly rising in her chest, she refused to give in. Keep calm, she told herself. Keep calm.
Her hands sweating, she gripped the steering wheel and pulled to a stop along the side of the road. Staying with the vehicle seemed to offer the best protection.
As she stared out the windshield, she saw that the twister was coming straight at her. If she couldn’t outrun it, she’d be killed. The image of Sheriff Davis arriving at her parents’ door, informing them of her death, was unbearable. Her mother had insisted Linnette was making the wrong decision. This would be the ultimate confirmation.
Barely aware of what she was doing, Linnette scrambled out of her car. Was she going to die? It looked that way, she observed in some remote part of her brain. She’d never survive this. Already the wind was strong enough to throw her to the ground, carry her away, hurl her into the next field—or the next county. The only reason she was still upright was that she held on to the open car door. Her hair whipped painfully about her face.
Then, out of nowhere, another vehicle crested the hill, roaring down the road toward her. This truck was obviously trying to outrun the tornado. It came to a screeching halt beside her.
“Get in!” the man yelled and flung open the passenger door.
Linnette leaped into the vehicle. Half in and half out of the truck, she clutched the dashboard as he took off again. she’d just managed to clamber all the way in when the man slammed on his brakes again and the passenger door banged shut.
“Get out!” he yelled.
Hardly able to open the truck door against the force of the wind, Linnette threw the full weight of her body against it until the door flew open. The man, already out, grabbed her around the waist and dragged her into a large culvert beside the road.
“We’re going to die,” Linnette told him, astonished by how calm she sounded. That serenity quickly evaporated when the wind hit. Crouched down though they were, the violence of it dashed them both to the ground. The noise was like a jet engine roaring through a tunnel.
Linnette screamed in sheer terror. The man, this stranger, clasped her by the waist and held her against him, his arms around her, protecting her. The roaring of the wind was horrendous. Painful.
Then, without warning, it was gone.
Linnette’s ears hurt, and she wasn’t sure if that was because of the terrible sound or the change in barometric pressure.
“Well, we’re not dead,” the man said to her.
“No.” She looked up at him and into the bluest eyes she’d seen other than Cal’s. The sudden memory brought a rush of tears.
“Hey, everything’s all right.”
“I know.” That didn’t stop the tears, though.
He broke away from her and reached in his back pocket for a clean white handkerchief. She’d never met anyone who carried a handkerchief before.
His thoughtfulness only induced more tears. Not ladylike sniffles, either, but wrenching sobs that made her shoulders shake. To add to her embarrassment, she started hiccuping, too, as she and her rescuer sat in the culvert side by side, their knees bent.
“I’m Pete Mason,” he said. “My brother and I own a wheat ranch about ten
