The rain stopped as quickly as it had begun, and the room became so quiet that it hurt her ears.
Behind her, the bench scraped against the floor. Keaton's voice was crisp. "Shut that fire off and get under the table." She froze with fear and his voice raised an octave. "NOW!" he commanded.
She responded instinctively to the urgency in his voice. Flipping the dial to the off position, she dived for the questionable refuge under the table. Keaton was right behind her, pulling her into a protective embrace. She glanced up at him.
"What is it?"
"A wall cloud, I think."
"What's a wall cloud?"
"A funnel cloud. A tornado that isn't touching the ground."
Tornado? The lightning was flickering incessantly, but she heard no thunder. The tree limbs visible through the kitchen window were still.
"But the storm has moved on."
He laughed without humor. "Don't you believe it."
If he was trying to frighten her, he was doing an excellent job. The hair on the back of her neck felt like it was standing on end. Surely the storm must have moved on. She struggled to escape his embrace.
"I don't know what you're trying to pull but ..."
Something exploded outside and she screamed. The lights flickered and then darkness engulfed the cabin. As Keaton pulled her close, the air was filled with a deep steady roll of thunder that equaled the sound of a locomotive. The night air was so charged with electricity, that she could feel the hair rising on the back of her neck. She cowered closer into the security of his strong arms. A hollow tearing sound was followed by a horrendous crash outside the kitchen window. The window ruptured, spraying glass across the kitchen floor.
She buried her face in Keaton's chest, but the arms encircling her provided little comfort. Would the cabin collapse around them? Would she die here in the arms of a virtual stranger - the man her father had sent to protect her?
The sound began as light pecks on the window, and quickly grew to a crescendo of crashing rocks. She spoke against his chest in a quivering voice.
"What's that?"
"Hail. Some of them as big as baseballs, looks like."
She lifted her face from his chest long enough to glance through the kitchen window and saw the huge white chunks of ice plunging to the ground. She stared, fascinated as they bounced off the open windowsill and one fell into the sink.
Gradually the sound abated and Keaton released her.
"I think it's gone now."
He pushed the bench aside and slid out from under the table. "Stay here while I look around a little."