She ran through a mental checklist as she washed up the paintbrushes and roller in the basement utility sink. Patio furniture? In the barn. Grill? In the barn. Hanging flower baskets on the front porch? She’d taken them down and grouped them together next to the house. Her car and work truck? In the barn. Dad’s sculptures were on their own, but most were bolted on cement bases. Other than that, she just had to worry about the house and barn themselves, and there wasn’t much she could do about that but pray.

Both structures were well over a hundred years old. Her dad hadn’t been much for paint and frills, but he was a fixer, and he’d been proud of the sturdy old family homestead. He’d replaced the roof on the house not that long before he died, so that should hold. Unless they got a literal tornado... But this was Upstate New York, not Kansas. That seemed unlikely.

There were two large maple trees in front of the house, and a tall, ailing ash tree near the driveway. There was nothing she could do about them, either. She decided against cowering down here in the dark, low-ceilinged basement for the next two hours. If a serious warning came across her phone, it would only take her a minute to dash down the stairs to safety from the kitchen.

Thunder was rumbling when she got upstairs, and it sounded more ominous than usual. It was just boomboomboomboom without stopping. She’d never been afraid of storms, but this sounded bad. She was glad Hazel was with Chris and his new house with a built-in generator. They’d all be fine.

Dad taught her to appreciate the power of nature, so she stepped outside the back door to watch the light show in the northwest sky. She could easily dash inside when it got too close. The crunch of tires behind her made her spin in surprise. Mike? He hadn’t texted that he was coming over. Had he not heard the forecast?

He tucked his SUV right next to the barn. She would have opened the barn doors for him, but there wasn’t any room left inside. He got out and looked up at the eerily flickering sky, then around the backyard. If he was worried about trees, he was safe. The giant oak that had once shaded the parking area had come down in a storm ten years ago. Other than that, the largest “trees” back here were lilacs and rose of Sharons.

“Mike, what are you doing here?”

“Checking on you.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN