Chapter Fourteen

 

Josef’s massive arms spread out to the sides blocking the doorway, and she stopped. Shattered glass lay strewn across the wood floor. Night’s darkness followed in the wake of the destruction. A measurable size of wood replaced his dining room table. The beam of light from his flashlight scanned the area.

“Let me walk around before you move.” He lowered his arms. “I want to make sure it’s safe.”

“Okay.” Things appeared okay. The house still stood. Just broken windows.

He disappeared for several minutes. “My room’s okay.” He passed her, headed in the direction of the kitchen before returning. “Inside we’re okay except for these front windows. Appears we’ve acquired some building materials.” He chuckled, digging through a drawer in the china cabinet.

She smiled and giggled a little. Cat missed his humor. And until recently missed his touch. Could he ever love her again? She’d hurt him. Could this marriage survive based only on the convenience without a love for each other? Her heart, mind, body and soul fell in love with Josef all over again. He had shown compassion on more than one occasion in the last few weeks, leading her to believe love could be found between them again.

The dogs stood on the stairs behind her and bolted through the front door to get outside.

“Fuzzy, Darby—”

“They’ll be fine. They need to go to the bathroom.” He turned on a flashlight and handed it to her. “Careful.”

The movie Jurassic Park came to mind as she pointed the flashlight out into the darkness. Big oak tree branches loomed at her when illuminated by the light beam. Debris from the trees added to building pieces littered the yard. Her truck appeared to be intact except for the busted-out windows.

“How’s it look over there?” she hollered to Josef, who checked the garage.

“The one door’s pushed against the back of my truck. Can’t see if there’s any damage.” He walked to the shed where that big green hunk of machinery was parked.

She carefully made her way to join him and heard a phone ring. Not her ring tone, she held her light up and Josef pulled his phone from his front pocket.

“Hello?—Yeah, we’re fine.—Cat’s still here.—How ‘bout you?—Good.—No. The front windows are shattered, and my truck may need some work.—Shit, I didn’t even think about that.—Sounds good, I will.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket.

“Who was that?”

“Wayne. He’s okay. The tornado missed them. We need to go check Elaine’s.”

They stepped carefully around branches, pieces of wood planks, twisted pieces of metal and stalks of corn. It was a tossed debris salad without dressing. They reached the end of his driveway, lifted their flashlights and together in flat unison said, “Shit.”

Josef gripped her fingertips. “Let’s go get a better look.”

She couldn’t move. Like an anvil, her stomach dropped and landed hard, leaving her at the bottom of the hole it created in the ground. She didn’t need a better look to know that it was gone. All gone. Catherine fell to her knees. Gravel bit into her exposed flesh. The flashlight fell to the ground and illuminated the culvert. She covered her face and sobbed.

“Cat, we can rebuild. I’m sure the base of the barn is still there.” He knelt beside her. His head tipped to look at her. “We can put up new fencing. Hell,” he lifted her chin up, “we can build you and the horses a brand new barn the way you want it.”

“I can’t go.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away. “Not now.”

“Okay.” He stood. “I won’t be gone long. Nothing we can do anyway.”

“The kittens! I forgot about them.” Tears flowed as she covered her face. “What happened to them?”

“What kittens?”

“There were six kittens in the barn.” She swiped her face. “I was feeding them. Oh, you need to let me know.”

“I’ll be back.” He delivered a gentle kiss on her lips. “We’ll rebuild for you and the horses. It’ll be okay. We can get through this.”

Josef crossed the road into darkness, a flashlight his beacon.

Two wet noses nuzzled each of Cat’s arms. “Fuzzy. Fritz.” She patted each of them and rubbed their back ends. “Where’s Darby?” She picked up the flashlight and moved the light beam around the yard.

“Rrruff,” Fuzzy responded and bounded for the front yard.

The two Labs played with each other. Maybe there was more than one love relationship happening on the farm. She meandered to the front porch with Fritz following her. Catherine gathered the sticks and branches littering the porch floor and made a pile. She righted the overturned bench, switched off the flashlight and sat in the darkness. Waiting.

They could rebuild. Rebuild the barn. Rebuild their trust. Rebuild their love. She had fallen in love with him all over again. She believed he had, too. He had said the three little words earlier.

Josef’s beacon in the night shone her way, and the silence was broken by his quiet voice. “All gone—mess.—Yes—married. I want that land back.—She doesn’t know.—I’ve got to go. I can’t see her. Just be here in the morning to help.”

The conversation cut in and out at first but became clearer as he neared his farm … and her. He didn’t want to marry her to help her, but for his own reasons. She knew he wanted to continue farming Elaine’s land and the marriage would allow that to happen, but she didn’t know he actually wanted the land. Anger overflowed her veins. She’d be damned if she’d marry him now.

So much for love and trust.

Cat grabbed the flashlight, entered the house and went upstairs. She turned the flashlight on and threw clothing into her bag.

Josef stood in the bedroom doorway. “What are ya doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Packing. But why?” Hunched shoulders and hands out to his side, he clearly had no idea what was going on.

“I’m leaving. It’s over.” She pinched the engagement ring, and with a slight tug, slid it from her finger and threw it on the counter. “There will be no wedding.”

He didn’t go after the ring that fell somewhere to the floor.

She pushed passed him, only to be stopped by his large hands. “Don’t say that. Why not?”

“You said it yourself, you want that land.” A deluge of rage made her voice rise and crack. “I don’t know what the hell you were talking about or to whom …” Her fingers curled into tight fists. “… but you can call them back and let them know the wedding is off, and you won’t be getting that land back.” She wiggled. “Let me go.”

“That land should be back in my family.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And I don’t give a damned. Let me go.” She squirmed and freed herself from his hold.

She stomped down the stairs, out the door and to her truck. Damn! Before putting the dogs in the truck the broken glass would need to be cleaned out. In front of her, a light from behind illuminated a path. Josef. Damn him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She tossed her bag in the back end and snatched the hand broom she kept for use at the barn. “I can clean up my own mess. You have your own to clean.”

“I can help if I want,” his tone soft and caring.

Did he think she would change her mind if he was sweet and loving? Hell no! It only added fuel to the fire.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” Her hand shook as she swept the glass. Finished, she moved to the other side. “I’ll finish here.” Her jaw clenched.

“Your truck took a beating by the debris being thrown around. You’ll want to call your insurance agent.”

She ignored him and yanked a blanket from behind the rear seat and spread it across the seat for the dogs’ protection. Who knew what remained stuck in the cushions.

With a tight grip on the flashlight, she stomped through the front yard to find and gather the dog chains.

“Cat, don’t go. Let’s talk.”

“There is nothing for us to talk about. It’s over, Josef.” She ripped a chain anchor out of the dirt. “Over.” Chains in hand, she marched to the rear of the pickup.

“What if you’re—?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. We had sex once. Chances of me being pregnant are slim.” Who the hell was she kidding? Her stomach revolted at the comment. Tossing the chains in the back, she hollered out, “Let’s go, boys.”

The four dogs nimbly came. Blondie lay by Josef’s leg.

“Careful getting in,” she told the dogs as she held the blanket in place.

Bloody paw prints appeared on the blanket.

The festering fury boiled over.

“I never should’ve listened to you,” she turned and screamed at Josef. “Do you see this?” she asked, pointing to the blanket. “Because you let them run out of the house, their feet are all cut up. Damn it, Josef.” She spun on her heals and pulled her small emergency vet box from the back.

“I’m sorry, Cat.”

She squatted in front of Blondie and picked up one paw at a time, inspecting for injury. “Let’s get her in the house.” She closed the door, containing her dogs inside the truck. “You need to keep her inside until this mess is cleaned up. Pick her up and bring her inside.”

“Cat, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, you didn’t think. Don’t apologize. I’ll need you to hold a flashlight. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Put her on the kitchen island. Good. Now hold the light on her paws while I work on them.” Cat didn’t have the full means to treat the dogs, but what she could do now would be better than nothing.

She poured water on the paw to clean away the dirt and any loose particles. Using tweezers, she pulled the pieces of glass from the pads of Blondie’s foot, depositing the shards in a bowl. When she felt she had all the debris removed, she poured water over the paw, applied antibiotic ointment and wrapped the entire foot up the leg in gauze.

“You’re good. Thank you.” He spoke the humbling words softly.

“Make sure she sees her regular vet tomorrow.” She worked on the next paw.

“I will. Please don’t leave, Cat.” The flashlight moved from Blondie’s paw to her.

“Damn it, Josef. Keep the light on her paw. I’m working.”

The beam of light shone on the dog’s paw. For the remainder of the cleaning procedure, Josef kept his mouth shut. Catherine finished the fourth paw and cleaned her utensils at the sink. Padded paws walked out the room while boots moved closer to her. His warmth permeated her back.

Don’t turn around. Don’t listen to him. Don’t trust him.

“I’m sorry, Cat. Don’t go.” His breath tickled her neck. Her stomach fluttered.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, placed the last item in her box and snapped the locks.

His arms slid around her sides, and his hands rested on the counter—trapping her. His chest hammered against her back. She swung her arm, knocking his from the ledge.

With a firm voice she stated, “I’m done here,” and walked with defiance out the front door.

As she approached her truck and got behind the wheel, he ran toward her, yelling, “Cat, don’t go. I love you.”

“Goodbye, Josef,” were her final words as she sped out of the drive.