Hard Rain Falling (Walking in the Rain Book 3) (22 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

The driveway was long and winding, designed to slow down intruders I had learned as a child, and I drove with fear active in my stomach. Sheriff Henderson had not seen my father in two months, and that was when he came to town briefly to report killing a group of looters attacking the ranch. He said little but Sheriff Henderson said he looked upset and tired. I could imagine, but I wondered if it was something else.

And since then, nothing. I wondered if I would find another scene reminiscent of the Thompson house. Or worse.

Amy sat with her hand clenched tight, her fingers interlaced with mine. Whatever we found, we would be together. That was our promise to each other, and nothing else need be said. At the massive gate, I saw a pair of small bunkers behind the mass of wrought iron. They looked carefully groomed to prevent dirt or sand from leaking out of the bags. Somebody was still doing things right, I thought.

When I pulled up to the gate, I waved for Scott to hold back. As I had learned in town, certain military equipment in the hands of bandits was not unheard of, so I wanted to spare anyone on the home front that worry. Or at least, let them see we weren’t crowding the place. Of course, if anybody but my family was now living here, I would have to kill them all. But there would be time for that later.

I got out and, like before, Amy slid over to take the driver’s seat. Thankfully, she did know how to drive. I’d never asked her, which was an oversight.

Walking up to the familiar sight of the metal gate, a black wrought iron creation featuring a mighty stallion rearing back on his hind legs, I felt the moisture began to touch my eyes as the first hints of rain began to fall. Just the rain, I told myself.

“Hey old man, you in there?” I found myself calling. It was actually one of the things I was always hearing my mother call out to my father when he was busy in one of his shops. The two had been married a long time and I could still hear the love in their voices as they teased each other.

I heard a rustling in one of the dugouts, and like a prairie dog checking the landscape, a familiar gray head popped up, and I saw the business end of an AR-15 pointed in my direction. I saw irritation and some other emotion etched into the man’s careworn, tired face.

“Dad?”

Silence, then I heard my father croak out, “Oh, lord, son. We thought you were dead.”

“No, Dad. Took a long time to get here, and I’ve got me story to tell, but that can wait. I’ve also brought some friends, Dad. Good people I’ve traveled with along the way. They are hard workers and proven fighters. And I’m going to marry one of them once thing settle down.”

That was a little too much coming at my father at once. I decided to back up.

“Dad, who’s here? Who made it?”

He paused, and I dreaded whatever he was going to say next.

“Son, your mom and Paige are fine. So is your Uncle Billy. Some of my old friends showed up and are pitching in too. But Luke, your grandfather, he… didn’t make it. We were raided near on two months ago. We managed to kill all of them, but Pops took two in the chest.”

My father got a faraway look in his eyes when he spoke next.  I stood there, rooted in shock.  Gandpa.  The man was tougher than shoe leather, and canny like an old rooster.  That was one of the things his wife, my grandmother, used to say about him.  The point was, Grandpa was adept at avoid the meat cleaver.

“Luke, he was thinking about you when he died. Said you were still alive. He said you couldn’t be dead ‘cause you still have too much to do.”

With that, my father flung open the gate he’d been working on and moved to embrace me in a bear hug, but I held up a cautioning hand.

“Caught one about a week ago. I’m fine but it hurts like hell. Sorry, Dad.”

“Don’t be, son. You’re still alive. Now, let’s go see this future daughter-in-law of mine.”

And then the clouds that had threatened all day finally delivered.  A gentle shower at first that hardened into a heavy downpour, but none of us noticed. We were finally home.  And a little hard rain falling wasn’t going to hurt any of us now.

THE END

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First, let me thank the usual suspects, Michael Scott, Craig Allen, Joe Reeder, and WJ Lundy.  Each of these individuals gave of their time and attention for no particular compensation to help me make this story better.  All the errors are mine, but anything I got right was likely due to one of these gentlemen.  My thanks also to Terri King for her excellent editorial services.  If she can put up with me, we will be working together again.

My thanks and appreciation to the men and women, past and present, who wore the uniform and who served to protect this country.  Also, my apologies in advance for any mistakes I made regarding information on the Arkansas and Oklahoma National Guard.  These were purely unintentional and as the disclaimer at the beginning states, this is all fictional anyway.

And finally, I know this has been a long trip for the readers, but I don’t think our adventures with Luke and Amy are over.  I hate reading a series where authors get lazy and start to take their characters for granted, or just repeat the same story three or four times for the sake of producing more books.

In this case, I feel like the story has at least one more installment due.  What does Luke do, now that he’s home and back amongst the people who know him best?  And how do these newcomers fit into the mix?  On a broader scale, what the heck is happening with the civil war just getting started in what used to be the United States of America?  Plus, I think there’s still at least one wedding that needs to be covered.

I want to tackle all these issues and more in the next book. 

So please let me know what you think of this story.  I ask each and every one of you to take the time to write a review on Amazon.  As an independent author, the best, and really only advertising I get is right there.  Let me know what you think of the story, and also feel free to e-mail me at
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Happy trails and safe travels,

William Allen

April 10, 2015