The Truth About Love and Lightning by Susan McBride

Author:Susan McBride
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-12-26T05:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Gretchen hovered over the sink, gazing out the window, resenting the appearance of the mist that kept her from seeing past the barn to the walnut grove. She was second-guessing herself, wondering if she’d done the right thing letting Abby take the Man Who Might Be Sam on a walk alone. Although Abby seemed better this morning, more her rational self, Gretchen couldn’t stop thinking of the old photograph tucked into the pages of Abby’s sketchbook and all the pencil drawings of an ever-changing Sam.

“She’s in such a fragile state,” Gretchen said aloud. “I shouldn’t have left them to wander off alone. I should have gone with them.”

“They’re fine,” Bennie remarked from the breakfast table. “You can’t worry about what may happen between them. What will be, will be.”

“It’s true, you can’t fight fate,” Trudy concurred, causing Gretchen to sigh for the thousandth time.

The twins had eaten already but had stuck around, keeping Gretchen company while she fidgeted. Trudy busily knitted a baby hat for Abby’s unborn child. Yellow yarn unfurled from the ball in her lap while her needles busily clicked.

“They should be back by now,” Gretchen said, leaning over the counter and so near the glass her breath clouded the panes. “It’s been nearly twenty minutes.”

She was getting ready to head outside and yell for them to come in for breakfast when she spotted the pair trudging toward the barn, their arms intertwined.

“Here they come,” she announced and wiped her palms on the thighs of her jeans, trying not to jump out of her skin. Quickly, she concerned herself with heating the skillet, adding a pat of butter before she cracked half a dozen eggs into a bowl and began furiously beating them.

She was pouring the eggs into the skillet when she heard the slap of the screen door, then the more solid click of the mudroom door. Suddenly Abby burst into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“Hey!” she said and rushed up to Gretchen, giving her a hug. “You’re not going to believe this! But the walnut trees have buds!”

“Buds? Are you sure?” Gretchen stared at her daughter, concerned that a gush of pregnancy hormones was making Abby see things. “But that’s not possible,” she said and peered out the window to find the fog lifting; but there was still too much mist for her to make out anything but the ghostly shapes of the trees.

“I’m not kidding.” Abby sounded just a little out of breath. “The walnut grove seems to have risen from the dead.”

“Could be the lightning’s responsible,” the man offered, coming up beside Gretchen, their arms brushing as he washed his hands. “Some folks think that a strike can make bad soil turn fertile again.”

That sounded an awful lot like something Sam would say, Gretchen thought, and her gaze met his. For a second, it seemed that her heart had stopped beating. If he was Sam Winston, had he created the storm that brought him home and conjured up the lightning to

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