Home at Last by Margaret Watson

Author:Margaret Watson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

“WE NEED TO GO to the basement,” Jackson said. He yanked open the door and tugged her toward it. “Go on down and I’ll grab the animals.”

“Charlie’s snakes,” she managed to say. “I have to get them, too.”

Jackson’s hand tightened on her arm. “I’ll do it. Where are they?”

“Upstairs. Zoe’s old room.”

“Take Tasha and Annabelle downstairs. I’ll find the snakes.” Without waiting for her to answer, he ran up the stairs. As the siren wailed, she heard him moving around in Charlie’s room, swearing.

Tasha was still on the chair in the living room, and Annabelle was lying in her bed next to the chair. The storm didn’t seem to bother them at all.

Her head spinning, Fiona shuddered at the yawning blackness of the basement and groped for the switch at the top landing. The bulb over the stairs cast shadows on the walls and railing. Everything past the last step remained dark.

They hadn’t cleaned out the basement yet. It was full of dusty old lawn furniture, luggage and boxes that had been stored years ago. But she’d be safer down there with the dust and the cobwebs. And the memories.

She wanted to curl into a ball and shut out everything—the smell of ozone from the lightning, the rush of the wind, the shriek of the siren. “Annabelle,” she called, unable to move, and the dog’s ears perked up. “Come on, baby. We need to go downstairs.”

Annabelle opened her eyes. The wind screamed, and hail pelted the house with thousands of tiny, sharp thuds against the siding.

It felt as if Fiona’s feet were nailed to the floor. “Annabelle,” she pleaded. “Come here. Please. Tasha.” Her voice sharpened. “Come here, boy.”

They both gave her a bored look. She forced herself to take one step, then another.

She heard Jackson on the stairs behind her, grunting with the effort of carrying the snakes’ terrariums. “Fiona. Why are you still up here?”

“Getting the animals,” she said. “Be right down.”

He headed into the basement, and the siren shrilled louder, until she could hear nothing else. She clapped her hands over her ears and stumbled forward. When she finally reached the chair, she tucked Annabelle, bed and all, under one arm, then grabbed Tasha with the other. She was two feet from the door when Jackson reappeared.

“What’s taking so long?” he asked. He took Annabelle out of her arms. “Come on, Fee. The siren is still blowing.”

She followed him to the doorway, took a deep breath and clutched the railing. Tasha struggled, his rear nails digging into her, and she held him more tightly. She was halfway down when Jackson appeared out of the darkness below her and took the cat.

He pulled the door closed, then wrapped an arm around her and hurried her the rest of the way.

He let her go when they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Where’s the light switch?”

“The wall on your left,” she gasped. “Have to go upstairs. Need something.”

“Are you nuts?” He turned on the lights. “There’s a tornado somewhere close.

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