Page 8 of Eyes Like a Hurricane

Paisley’s red hair is tied up in an adorable bandana, and she is in the cutest cotton sundress, which is covered in little strawberries. She looks like a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air, all in one 5’5” package.

Leo’s blonde hair is longer than it was the last time I saw him at Christmas. It's still as perfectly styled as always. Not even the long day of waiting for my texts, calls, and updates has ruined his flawless image. His green eyes bore into mine, making me think of another pair of green eyes I was gazing into at North Bend today. Only these green eyes are not looking at me like I’m the last cupcake on Earth. His eyes are looking deep into my soul. Using our unspoken language, Leo is checking to make sure I’m truly okay after how things went with Cody this morning and if I’m ready to embark on my newest adventure. Smiling with my eyes, I let him know I’m fine, everything will be great, and I’m thrilled to be in his embrace. With an imperceptible nod, he finally smiles, and his face is alight with the same excitement as mine and Paisley’s.

Turning my head, I take in the tall silhouette leaning against their doorframe. With his arms gently crossed in frontof his broad chest, Kieran’s smile takes up his entire face as I take him in. It appears his espresso-brown hair was recently cut to keep his curls in check. His warm brown eyes are like coming home because they remind me so much of our dad. I run to embrace him, taking in a deep breath that reaches my toes. He smells of barbeque, butter, and chocolate. His scent is one I will never forget.

Kieran and I are just under eighteen months apart and look very similar. When we were kids, people often mistook us for twins. Mom kept my hair in a pixie cut, and Kieran always wore his curls a bit longer on the top. The only real difference is he got mahogany brown eyes from our dad, Shane, while I got aqua eyes from our mom, Fiona. Neither of us got Dad's auburn hair; we both got Mom's dark chocolate hair. In low light, Kieran’s hair looks black. When the sunlight hits his eyes just right, they almost look red. Leo teases him constantly, asking if he sparkles in the sun and only drinks blood, but he grumbles that he is tan for a reason and a renowned chef who enjoys eating real food.

I smile as I step back and take a cleansing breath. The smell of fresh barbeque and cornbread hits me like a freight train I wasn’t expecting, causing me to gasp. I smell something sweet and am hoping by all that is mighty that there is a s’mores skillet cookie in the oven too. Kieran winks at me. I jump up and down, knowing I guessed right. It looks like a long run will be on the docket for tomorrow afternoon, but I’m not complaining in the slightest. After the quinoa and kale salad that I ate last night on my way home from the clinic in Sammamish, this meal brings me to my knees.

With their arms wrapped around me, Paisley and Leo guide me into the house as we follow Kieran like lost puppies. I look around for Chloe and spot her working on a meal thatKieran must have put down for her before he came to the door. My brother loves my dog to pieces. He adopted her brother, Ronan. Speaking of which, I haven't heard or seen Ronan since we arrived. Chloe must be wondering too. “Hey, Kier. I haven’t seen Ronan,” I say.

Leo starts laughing and responds instead, “Yeah, we put him in the backyard about half an hour ago. Once the smell of barbeque got strong in here and we kept mentioning you and Chloe would be coming, he went berserk. We tried everything to calm him down and distract him. Pais even took him for a walk, but he just pulled her for a speed walk that had her panting when they came back through the door. After Chloe finishes the dinner Kier made her, we will open the back door and let him in for his dinner.”

I’m sure the Aussie whine was unbearable after a few hours in the house. I can’t wait to see him, though. As if his name was spoken three times in a row, he comes tearing through the mudroom, past the kitchen, and just about takes me out as he collides with my belly. Luckily, I braced myself for impact, so we don’t go down in a heap of limbs. Chloe looks up from her water dish, her plate licked clean, and gives Ronan a doggy smile. She leaps into the action, and before I know it, all three of us are on the ground, rolling and hugging like long-lost siblings.

“How come we don’t get that kind of reception from Ronan?” asks Leo. Kieran and I both shrug, putting off the strong twin-like vibe. As the dogs calm down, Chloe plods over to a sunny spot on the hardwood floors by the kitchen door. She’s trying to soak up the last remaining rays of the setting Montana sun.

Kieran plates Ronan’s food in the kitchen and then motions for us to make our way to the farm table in their dining area. I slide onto the bench that faces the backyard, taking inthe woods behind their house. There is such a similarity to Sammamish when I look at Kalispell on the surface. But when I look closer, I love how little traffic there is on the streets. It’s so quiet outside. The aspect of Montana I missed the most was seeing the stars in all their glory. There is so much light pollution in the city, but at my new cabin on the lake, I bet I’ll be able to see everything at nightfall.

Kieran and Leo bring out the food family style, setting large plates of roasted corn, barbeque brisket, and cornbread muffins in the middle of the table. I quickly start loading my plate up and am pleasantly surprised that I’m not sad there is no green salad. Cody used to insist that every meal we shared had a green salad to start.

Shaking him from my thoughts, I reach for my fork. Taking an oversized bite, a small moan escapes me as all the memories of my childhood come flooding back to me. I open my eyes to see Kieran staring at me with a goofy grin on his face. This is the same brisket Dad would make for family reunions.

“Sis, make sure you save some room for dessert,” Kieran states as the timer buzzes from the kitchen. He gracefully rises, then over his shoulder shouts, “By the way, it’s my s’mores skillet cookie. I hope you missed it.”

Chapter 9

Lachlan

We passed through Kalispell twenty-five minutes ago. I called Callum one last time, but he made it clear there were no supplies to pick up right now. He made it very obvious that everyone was waiting for me and Finn to return. They were going to start getting the grill heated up, so the food would be ready around 6:00 p.m. It’s 5:40 p.m. and I’m making awesome time. I have twenty minutes to make it the four remaining miles to the ranch.

I pass the vet clinic and see it’s still closed, but there is a SOLD sign in the front window, so the rumors are definitely true. Soon we will have an official town vet again.

The large iron gates with the herd of running horses laser etched across the top appear through my windshield. I love our gates. Ambarsan Equine Therapy Ranch stands out boldly on the iron. I’m so proud of this ranch, all it stands for, and all the people it has helped over the last five years. We are still learning and growing, but we are proving to be an effective and useful organization in the area.

My sister Ingrid and I had dreamed of this concept for years after watching our older cousin return from war with terrible PTSD. My parents’ orchard is just down the road.Ambarsan Apple Orchard is a large producer of many fruits and vegetables, but it started with my grandfather fifty years ago. Neither Ingrid nor I want to take over the orchard. Luckily for Mom and Dad, our baby brother Declan, who is twenty-four this year, is intent on learning all he can from Dad and one day running the orchard.

At the ‘y’ in the road, I take the left, looking toward Ingrid’s house on the right. I can’t tell if her front porch lights are on from here, but once we’re out I’ll be able to hear voices. As my truck kicks up dust in the well-worn grooves of the dirt road leading to the car barn, I take in the stunning sunset, which is whipping various shades of pink, orange, and purple across the sky. I park my rig and slowly clamber out of the driver’s seat. After not moving for the four hours since my quick pit stop in Spokane, my long legs are stiff and ache for movement.

Glancing around, I notice the barn and office are dark off to my left and my house sits quiet ahead of me. I slowly open the door to the back seat and am greeted with a wet nose in my face as I stand eye to eye with my new buddy, Finn. Since the farm is huge, I don’t bother clipping a leash on him. He’s still wearing his harness in case I need to hang on to him. I grab the bag from the Olson family and the two of us make our way across the ranch. Passing my backyard, I continue toward Ingrid’s back garden.

Curling my tongue against the back of my teeth, I give a short but sharp whistle. Finn responds perfectly, trotting over to my side. We begin to stride toward the back of the farmhouse that Ingrid lives in, which is located off to the far right of the property. I hear everyone chattering and laughing from here and can make out Callum’s form standing at the grill.

We approach the white picket fence surrounding Ingrid’s backyard garden. Finn patiently sits and waits for me to open thegate latch. Right before I open the gate, I decide to reach down and hold onto his collar for the first official meet and greet. I know he did great meeting Aislinn and Chloe in North Bend, but now there are lots of people for him to meet in one go.

As we slowly approach the sound of cheerful chatter, I see Finn’s whole body begin wiggling. Callum sees us first, raising both of his hands in the air from his spot by the grill, pointing his tongs toward the honey-painted skies. “Lachlan, my man, you made it, and you are,” he brings his right hand down to check his watch, “Fifteen minutes earlier than we expected. Dinner won’t be off the grill for at least another twenty!”

The soft talking immediately seizes, and I’m reminded how utterly quiet it is out here. Only the crackle of the flames in the fire pit and the whinny of horses out in the pasture can be heard. I tentatively relax my hold on Finn’s collar. He plops down next to my foot. His tail begins to thump wildly against the ground. Releasing my hold on him, he remains pressed to my leg.

Ingrid approaches us first, leaning in for a big hug. You would think she hadn’t seen me in weeks. I inhale her familiar scent of honeysuckle and sunshine. I’m so glad to be home. She steps back and immediately squats to be at eye level with my new buddy.

“Well, hello! Aren’t you a beautiful boy? Yes, you are,” Ingrid coos. Finn tentatively sniffs her delicate fingers, then instantly flips to his back. With his belly fully exposed and his tongue lolling to the side, I think it’s safe to say he is smitten with my sister. Ingrid bends down, digging both hands into his thick, white fur, and rubs his chest. His back leg starts to twitch. I know right then that he is the perfect fit for this farm. At his immediate comfort with Ingrid, the rest of my friends and staff members slowly make their way over to meet Finn.

With more people approaching, Finn slowly rolls to his side and gets back up onto all four powerful legs. As Noah gets closer and begins to crouch his lean frame down to Finn’s level, Finn plops into a perfect sitting position. Like a guard on duty, Finn remains well-behaved and receptive to everyone who advances to meet him. He gives each of them a cursory sniff, then tilts his head at just the right angle for them to pet behind the ears.

Callum clears his throat to get everyone’s attention, “Dinner will be ready to pull off the grill in about ten minutes. Lachlan, why don’t you go home and change into something more comfortable. Clean up after the long ride home. Clearly, Finn is comfortable with us, and the yard is fully fenced, so he can’t escape.”

With a small smile and a nod, I turn left out of the gate and make my way over to my quiet house fifty yards away. My mind drifts to the blue-eyed woman with fire in her soul. I wonder where she was heading. When I turned onto the on-ramp in Spokane, I’d swear I saw a white Jeep Wrangler getting off the freeway. But it could have been my imagination, and in farm country, Jeeps are a dime a dozen, just like trucks. Wiping my calloused palm down the front of my face, I realize I’ve got to get her out of my mind. Maybe a cold shower will do the trick and a night with friends and family around the fire.

---