Page 37 of Quinn

Aunt Eileen stopped stirring the pot and looked up. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

“I don’t know. Danny said it’s normal, they do that from time to time, but I could tell it has him even more unsettled.”

Quinn appeared in the doorway, sleeves rolled up. “Need any help?”

“Nope.” Aunt Eileen placed the cover on the pot and turning around, placed her hands on Quinn’s back, and gave him a nudge. “Go wait with the rest of the men.”

His eyes widened and leveled with Eloise’s. With a slight shrug, she smiled at him, delighted when he winked back at her before joining his brothers and cousins.

Outside the kitchen window, a brownish haze seemed to be blowing in.

“It’s getting awfully windy out there,” Eloise commented casually.

“Yeah.” From the sink, Aunt Eileen looked out the window. “Sally May’s knees were bothering her yesterday. She says the weathermen have it wrong. The little storm is going to be a doozy.”

“Uh-oh.” Catherine looked up from her potato. “Sally May’s knees are never wrong.”

“Is that why Uncle Sean and Finn are in the barn on a Sunday afternoon?”

Aunt Eileen nodded. “Just making sure everything is secure. The radio’s calling for high winds by evening.”

Hannah gathered potato peelings and dumped them into the trash, while Eloise placed the potatoes in the pot.

“Speaking of secure,” Catherine dried her hands on a dish towel, “Connor mentioned something about the horses getting skittish.”

“Already?” Hannah’s brow furrowed. “Usually they don’t act up until the storm’s closer.”

“You know as well as I do that the horses know before we do.” Catherine shrugged. “They’ve been restless all morning.”

“Hmm.” Hannah looked outside the window, her eyes narrowing. “I’m starting to agree the weathermen may have underestimated the incoming storm.”

Aunt Eileen stood by her niece. “There goes Connor. I’m guessing he’s thinking the same thing you are and going to check on the horses.”

The wind had picked up enough to scatter leaves across the yard, the trees swaying with each gust.

Quinn appeared in the doorway again, Ryan and Morgan at his side. “The leaves out front are blowing like a whirlpool. We’re heading out to help Uncle Sean fill the troughs and cover the feeders.”

In the short time Eloise had been here, there hadn’t been any storms. She’d just assumed that the lack of rain was perfectly normal for dry West Texas. It hadn’t occurred to her that if a storm did hit, it could be a problem. Though everyone seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride, something felt very different about the casual determination with which everyone was preparing. “Should I be doing something to help?”

“No.” Aunt Eileen patted her arm. “Dust storms happen in this part of the country all the time. We’re going to let everyone else do their thing to secure the situation, which basically means, make the animals comfortable so the wind and rain doesn’t unsettle them, and keep the food sources as free of dust as possible. For now, we’ll let this roast simmer to perfection. Then we’ll all sit down for a nice dinner.”

“How long will the storm last?” She couldn’t keep her eyes off the gusts of wind raising the leaves in swirls outside and how the skyline seemed to be darkening faster than earlier in the day.

“Depends.” Aunt Eileen shrugged, tossing more potatoes in the pot.

“On what?”

“On if the weathermen are right, or Sally May is.”

She had no idea if the woman was serious or teasing, but somehow she felt sure if a tornado came through, as long as she was with the Farradays, all would be well. Lifting her gaze to the ceiling, she wished that feeling extended to Danny. Him, she was still worried about. If only she knew what the VA was up to.

Followed by most of the men in the family, Quinn hurried into the house, brushing dust from his sleeves.

Uncle Sean was the last one inside, securing the door behind him. “Good thing we installed new windows last year.”

Aunt Eileen’s mouth briefly drew into a thin line. “That bad?”

Her husband nodded. “Temps dropping too fast. Dust is already starting to settle. I’m going to say Sally May’s knees are going to be right.”

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