A Kiss for Cade (12 page)

F
ierce wind battered the old store with the force of a gale. Cracks of lightning lit the room. Zoe got up several times to put vinegar on the fretful children’s sunburned shoulders. She tried to stay calm, but the store’s worsening financial situation upset her.

Sporadic thunderclaps shook the tiny rooms. She heard can goods falling off the store’s shelves. It had been years since a storm like this had raged through Winterborn. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a limb split off the huge oak in the backyard and slammed against the porch. Butch howled and scratched incessantly at the back door, wanting to come in. Romeo’s meows escalated to frantic yowls. She couldn’t remember spending a more miserable night.

Around four o’clock, nerves frazzled, she finally fell exhausted into bed.

She’d closed her eyes only a moment when a clap of thunder roused her. She was barely aware of Missy sliding out of bed and whispering something to Holly. The two girls left the room, and Zoe dropped into a deep sleep.

Toward dawn she rolled over and found Missy’s side of the bed empty. She shot up and noticed that Holly was missing.

Donning her robe, she glanced out the window toward the out-house. Maybe they were still sick. She groaned when she saw that the outhouse door had blown off and half of the back fence was down.

Alarmed, she stepped into the kitchen, and her heart leaped to her throat when she saw that the boys weren’t on their pallets, either. “Brody! Will! Holly! Missy!”

She ran through the kitchen and opened the door to the mercantile, coming to an abrupt halt when she saw Cade, the kids, Butch, and Romeo clustered in a heap around the cot, all sound asleep.

Her hand went to her throat when she saw Bud, the children’s pet tarantula, out of his jar and perched in the middle of Cade’s chest. Missy must have taken off the lid again.

Zoe stood for a moment, uncertain what to do. She could let Cade wake naturally and…no, that was plain mean. She’d wake him quietly without disturbing Bud.

Tiptoeing to the cot, she whispered, “Cade.”

He opened one eye and smiled at her. He opened the other eye and came face-to-face with Bud. Jerking upright, he flailed his hands at the tarantula, knocking it into the center of the room.

Stunned, Zoe couldn’t believe how quickly a man could vacate a cot. Before she could explain, he was chasing the creature around the room, trying to smash it with stocking feet.

Butch sprang to life, barking and leaping over the end table. His tail caught two of the figurines and sent them to the floor with a crash. Romeo yowled and shot like a streak across the room.

The girls scrambled toward Cade, hanging onto the seat of his long johns. Missy squealed, “Quit dancing, Uncle Cade! You’we scawing Bud!”

Cade shouted, “Bud
who
?”

“Bud, the bug,” Zoe yelled.

“The bug?” Cade ceased prancing and dropped into a chair. Running a shaky hand through his hair, he let out a breath. “That thing is a
pet
?”

Sickened, Zoe slumped to her knees, staring in despair at her broken figurines. She should have known to put them away.

Brody and Will raised sleepy heads. “Is it still storming?” Will asked.

Missy ran to Bud and scooped him into the jar. Screwing the lid on, she looked at Zoe. “Did the stowm scawe you too, Wed?”

Zoe struggled to keep a straight face. The very idea of Missy calling her “Wed”! She finally burst out laughing, slapping her hands on her knees. “No, Sunflower. The storm’s over. I just wondered where you all were.”

Once the excitement had died down, Zoe carefully picked up the broken pieces of a swan and a butterfly.

“I’m sorry about your figurines,” Cade said, stooping to help.

“It’s my fault. I should have put them away.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Don’t be silly. They’re irreplaceable.”

Zoe kept her eyes averted. The sight of him in his long johns distracted her more than she cared to admit. Who would think a man in his underwear could evoke such provocative feelings, even if he did look silly in stocking feet? “The storm was pretty bad. The backyard has a lot of damage. I haven’t looked out front yet.”

The children scampered out of the room and ran to the back door. Will hollered, “The outhouse is tore up.”

“There’s a big tree limb in the yard!” Holly said. Zoe and Cade joined the children, surveyed the damage, and then they walked back to the front of the store, where Cade opened the door.

“What’s it look like?” Zoe asked, trying to see around him.

“Looks like I’ll be sleeping on the cot a couple more days.”

“Why?”

Her first glimpse of Main Street answered her question for him. The jail’s roof had been blown off and was now perched on top of Woodall Thompson’s sycamore tree. Surrounding businesses had missing shutters, and the street was strewn with signs and boards.
Ben Pointer and Sons
was stuck in Glori-Lee’s window box. Mayor Willis, in his night-shirt, surveyed the carnage.

Cade called to him. “Anybody hurt, Lawrence?”

Zoe was mortified when she saw Lawrence glance up and do a double take at Cade standing at the door in his long johns and her in her robe.

Lawrence glanced away. “Not that I know of. Is that you, Cade?”

Cade stepped back. “I’ll be out shortly.”

Lawrence shook his head. “No hurry. Take your time.” Frowning, his eyes slid back to the long johns.

Appalled, Zoe yanked Cade back inside and slammed the door. “Why didn’t you explain?”

“Explain what? That I slept on the cot in a mercantile with four kids, a dog, a cat, and a tarantula?”

Wheeling, she marched to the kitchen, knowing the incident would be reported all over town before breakfast.

By eight o’clock, the sounds of hammers and saws rang up and down the street. According to Lilith, it would take days for the town to return to normal.

Missy shot in the back door, dancing on her tiptoes. “Uncle Cade, I gotta go.”

Cade glanced up from his breakfast plate. “Go where?”

Zoe dished two eggs out of the skillet and put them on Brody’s plate. “She needs to use the outhouse.”

“It don’t have no doow on it. Evewybody will see me!”

Cade scraped his chair back from the table and got up.

Zoe frowned. “Your breakfast will get cold. Can you wait a moment, Missy?”

She hopped on one foot and then the other. “Noooooooo! Now!”

“Give me just a few minutes, Sunflower, and I’ll have you back in business.”

Missy skipped out behind him, and the screen door banged shut. Zoe carried Cade’s plate to the warming oven. Raising the window for some air, she paused with her hand in mid-motion when she noticed Cade stripping off his shirt. Powerless to look away, she stood frozen to the spot, drinking in the sight of his muscular back glinting in the morning sun. Sinewy cords rippled as he lifted the heavy outhouse door into place. Seeing him this way brought back memories of the night that had changed her life forever.

She smiled as Missy held her hands between her legs and jumped on one foot. Cade hoisted Will up on his shoulders to get the fallen limbs off the roof of the outhouse, while Brody and Holly hammered nails into a cross board on the door. There was no denying it. Cade loved the kids. Zoe nearly laughed out loud when he set Will down and chased him around the outhouse. Cade was a kid at heart.

Family. This was her family now. Her smile faded when she realized their child could have been helping repair the outhouse. How old would the child be? Almost sixteen? Approaching adulthood, almost the same age Cade had been when he left. She quickly looked away, swallowing the lump crowding her throat.

Missy’s impatience grew. “Huwwy, Uncle Cade! Huwwy!”

Cade grabbed a hammer and started pounding. “I’m hurrying, Sunflower—can’t you use the bushes?”

Zoe grinned when she heard Missy’s indignant, “No!”

In a few minutes, the outhouse door had been repaired enough for Missy to seek relief, and within an hour nearly all the broken limbs had been cleared from the yard. Brody, Will, and Holly worked like beavers alongside Cade, while Missy issued orders with the gusto of a cavalry officer.

Around noon, Cade stuck his head in the kitchen doorway and called to Zoe, “I’ll be at the jail.”

She glanced up from the ironing board, her gaze meeting his and catching until she smelled a scorched odor coming from the chemise. She quickly folded the garment and put it back in the dirty clothes basket. “Are the children going with you?”

“They’re going to help Lawrence Willis clear Main Street.”

“Tell them not to get in the way.”

“You tell them. Missy would court-martial me.”

Chapter Fourteen

C
rossing the street, Cade spotted Pop standing in front of the jail assessing the damage.

“Boy, wind took her off slick as a whistle.” Pop stared, hands on hips, at bare rafters where once the spare room had been. “Ain’t got the money to build it back proper-like.”

“The town doesn’t have the money for a new roof?”

“Nope. Never thought about having it blown clean off,” Pop confessed. “Suppose we’ll just do enough to keep the jail dry and not worry about that room overhead. Hardly ever used it anyway.”

“I was sleeping there,” Cade reminded him.

Pop’s eyes widened. “You weren’t in there during the storm, were you?”

“No. By then, the bunk was so wet that I stayed the night with the kids in the mercantile.”

Pop chuckled. “The kids?”

“Zoe wasn’t crazy about the idea, but she let me sleep on a cot.”

“Women. They can be merciless, can’t they?”

Cade stuck Pop’s hammer and nails in his back pockets, and then he grabbed a rung of the ladder leaning against the building. “Round up a couple of extra hands to help me put on a makeshift roof before it rains again.”

“You got time to do this?”

“I’ll have to pick up Pearson tomorrow.”

“Hope they got him in an ice house. You be sure and remind Mooney that Hague’s death’s on his record, not mine. Don’t let him pull one over on you.”

“Not many men pull one over on me, Pop.”

“I’d go myself, but I got more troubles. I broke out in hives. Can’t quit itchin’.”

Cade nodded, noting the angry red patches on Pop’s face. “What did you eat now?”

“Hard tellin’,” Pop said, scratching his hip.

“Maybe the Pointer boys will help with the roof. If you’ve got a minute, can you get them for me?”

Pop hurried off, and Cade climbed the ladder. His “brief” stop in Winterborn was getting longer every day.

Toward dark, his head was throbbing from the ring of hammers driving nails through wood. Signs had been reattached to storefronts and broken windowpanes replaced. It was gratifying to see small children lugging wooden carts through town, picking up scattered branches and other debris. Brody and Will piled their cart high, and then they hauled it to the end of town and dumped it.

The jail had a roof again, though it was nothing to brag about. The salvaged shingles were old and would probably leak like a sieve. The overhead sleeping space had been torn down and used to patch a hole in the town hall.

Cade returned to the general store that night sunburned and with blistered hands. The aroma of frying chicken scented the air. When he opened the screen door, a fly buzzed past him.

Zoe jammed her fists to her hips. “Where’d that fly come from? I told you kids to watch that back door!”

“Don’t blame the kids. I let it in.”

“Well, shut the door before we have a houseful. I suppose you’re hungry.”

“I’m worn out, and I don’t feel like going over to Glori-Lee’s.” Cade watched her eyes soften, and he knew it was a dinner invitation.

“Wash up. Supper’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Missy raced around the table and pulled out his chair. “Aftew you wash youw hands, Uncle Cade, you sit by me.”

He stepped toward the sink as Zoe moved away from the stove. They bumped hips. She spun to face him.