Free Dorothy Garlock by Leaving Whiskey Bend Page B

them in the lightning’s scant illumination; the wagon still sat in the wide, open plain of grass, but a long stand of trees lay only a couple of hundred yards in front of them.
If we can just reach their cover . . .
    “Straight ahead, Pearl!”
    “What?” The older woman turned to her, shouting to be heard over the raging storm. “What are you talkin’ about? What’s straight ahead? I can’t see nothin’ in all of this here rain!”
    “Right there in front of us,” Hallie explained excitedly. She pointed toward where their salvation had been, even though the inky black of the storm had returned. “There are trees we can get under!”
    “Where? I don’t see a damn thing!”
    As if the storm wished to prove that Hallie had not imagined the trees, another fork of lightning lit the sky.
    “Do you see?” Hallie shouted, nearly jumping from her seat.
    Without uttering a word in answer, Pearl cracked down hard on the reins, and the two horses, both spooked by the coming of the storm, practically leaped at the chance to run. The wagon took off with a lurch, skittering off the narrow road and out over the uneven ground. Hallie feared that they would lose a wheel or that they would become bogged down in the mud, but the horses never slowed for a moment. With the thundering of hooves and the creaks and cracks of the wagon over every bump, they raced headlong for the trees.
    Every passing second, the storm grew in intensity. Hallie’s clothes stuck to her skin with cold wetness. Her hair was soaked and stringy, matted against her face. As rain pounded against the wooden wagon in an incessant drumming, it shook like a child’s toy. Hallie held tightly to the long seat with one hand while shielding her eyes with the other.
    “Almost there!” Pearl yelled.
    Ahead of the wagon, the dark outlines of the trees suddenly loomed. As she tried to steady herself through all the rocking and tipping of the ride, Hallie had to strain to see them. When another lightning bolt pierced the sky, she could see how close they were to shelter, but she worried that they’d be no less safe. Branches swung wildly to and fro in the fevered wind as if the trees had come to life and meant to do them harm. The sound of the rain striking the leaves and limbs was different in pitch but just as steady.
    Then, just as more lightning turned the black storm into the brightest day, they passed under the tree’s wide canopy, and the deluge seemed to have been left behind them.
    “Thank heavens,” Hallie exclaimed.
    “My daddy always done said that the last place you’d want to be in a storm was under a tree, what with the lightnin’ and all.” Pearl laughed, shaking the rain from her arms. “But I ain’t so sure that if he found hisself in a storm like this one, he wouldn’t be right here beside us!”
    Hallie couldn’t answer. As she sat on the wooden seat, the water of the storm running off every part of her body, she felt chilled to her very bones. Even under the shelter provided by the trees, rain still fell on them, traipsing its way off one leaf and then another before finding them at the bottom. The weight of everything they had been through, from the confrontation with Chester to the mad dash through the deluge, seemed to press down on Hallie all at once. She had been pushed to this, forced to accept what life had to give without any choice of her own. This time, when the tears came, she felt a touch of anger mixed with the fear.
    “What’s the matter?” Pearl asked when she noticed that Hallie was crying.
    Try as she might, Hallie could not quiet the voice of frustration that rose in her chest. She knew that it would have been better to simply hold her tongue, to swallow the whole sordid mess, but she found it an impossible task. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the rainwater. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. “We should have stopped.”
    “What was that? I can’t hear you.”
    “We should