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“That’s what I thought. So here I am.”

He smiled and looked toward Bramblewood. “You should have driven.”

“It’s next door, Wes. And it wasn’t raining when I left.”

A few cold drops struck the back of his hand.

Kate looked upward. “That is unfortunate timing.”

The rain was still light, but the trees were moving harder now. Wes put his free hand at Kate’s back and turned her toward the house. “Come on. I’m finished out here.”

A sudden crack of canvas snapped behind them. Wes stopped. The heavy tarp covering a stack of empty harvest bins beside the barn had pulled loose at one corner. One of the straps was still holding, but the wind caught underneath the exposed edge and lifted it again.

Kate followed his gaze. “That doesn’t look finished.”

“It was five minutes ago.” He carried the food as far as the covered porch by the barn and set it safely against the wall. “Stay here.”

Kate gave him a look that suggested she had already decided what she thought of that instruction.

Wes went back to the bins. The loose strap had worked free from its anchor point rather than broken. That was better than he had expected, but the tarp was billowing hard enough now that he would need to pull it back into place before he could secure it. He caught the edge and hauled downward. A gust tore it out of his hand. “Damn it.”

Then the canvas dropped. Wes looked across the stack. Kate was on the other side with both hands gripping the edge. “I told you to stay under the porch.”

“And I ignored you.”

“I can stand here getting wet, or I can stand over there getting wet while you fight this thing by yourself. Tell me what you need me to do.”

He could argue with her. He also knew Kate well enough now to recognize when that would waste time. “Keep that corner down. Don’t wrap the tarp or the strap around your hand. If the wind catches it hard enough that you can’t hold it, let go.”

“All right.”

Wes reached for the loose strap. The next gust shoved the tarp against Kate hard enough to make her step backward, but she recovered and leaned her weight into it. Wes threaded the strap through the anchor and pulled. Rain began to patter against the canvas, slow at first and then rapidly harder. “Can you give me another six inches?”

Kate changed her grip and dragged the tarp toward herself. “That?”

“Perfect. Hold it.” He tightened the strap, checked it, then moved to the next fastening before the shifting pressure could pull something else loose.

Kate stayed where she was. By the time Wes finished, the rain was coming down in earnest. He straightened and found her blinking water from her eyes and grinning at him.

Wes laughed. She was standing in the rain beside him looking exhausted, wet and absurdly cheerful after a day that should have left her ready to collapse. He crossed to her and tugged the hood of her jacket over her head. “That would have been more useful ten minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t see properly with it up.”

Thunder rolled somewhere beyond the mountain. Not close, but close enough. Wes looked toward the trees. The wind drove rain through the rows in silver sheets beneath the security light. “Inside. Now.”

Kate did not argue this time. They retrieved the food and ran. By the time they reached the house, the rain had worked its way through Wes’s jacket and soaked the legs of his jeans. Kate was laughing as she tried to get onto the porch without slipping on the wet boards.

Wes caught her around the waist. “I’ve got you.”

“I had it.”

“You nearly went straight into the railing.”

“I was distracted by the man pushing me from behind.”

“I was trying to get you out of the rain.”

“You succeeded.”