could ride in blessed silence, you know.”
“Silence makes the time stretch out longer, talking will speed it up.”
Clint let out an aggravated sigh. “I grew up in Jarrell.” He pointed toward the city limit sign. “I’d show you the house, but it blew away in a tornado when I was seven. We were living there at the time.”
“Seriously? And yet…you chase storms.”
“Sometimes we choose to study the very things that threaten us.” He gave her a pointed look. “Right?”
She saw the correlation. CTE was her tornado. “True.”
When they drew close to his land, Clint slowed down. “So far so good.” He didn’t see any damage. “Looks like I lucked out.”
“Safe Haven. What’s this going to be?” She sat up straighter in order to see the construction site more clearly.
“A housing complex built to survive a tornado.” He pulled up closer. “My brother, Kyd, is the architect. The whole structure will be under a concrete dome with concrete pillars secured into the earth, anchored by eight-inch steel bolts. We’re also installing communal shelters in the basement.” Pointing to a sign, he told Jensen, “There’s an artist’s rendering. It will be a lot more attractive than it sounds.”
“Was this your idea?”
Clint nodded. “Yes. Most of the homes are being built safer these days, but those who live in apartments and trailer parks have been left out. I hope to remedy that situation and make living in a safe place affordable.”
“Can you do that? The design looks complicated.”
“It is. The materials aren’t as expensive, though.” He leaned over to open the glove box and pulled out a diagram. “I also plan on installing roof-top turbines to generate electricity. These turbines will be able to run on solar or wind power. Essentially, utilities will be included in the rental price.”
Jensen was fascinated. “That’s wonderful. I’m very impressed.”
He didn’t acknowledge her compliment. Giving one last look around, he muttered to himself, “I need to get someone to come out and do some bushhogging. Or borrow a tractor from the cousins and do it myself.”
The thought of him on a tractor, possibly shirtless, made Jensen wiggle a little in her seat. “When will it be complete?”
“Early next year. We were required to redo some of the utility lines, that’s been a major hold-up.” Easing the truck down the street, he made another turn. “Up ahead is the memorial for the ones we lost in the 1997 F-5.” He pointed to the left. “The subdivision we lived in, the one that was completely destroyed, encompassed those five blocks. You can still see the depression where the streets used to run. And across the street and down about a quarter of a mile is the quarry where my family and I hid as the storm devastated this whole area.”
Jensen fingered the hem of her top, needing to occupy her hands. “Isn’t it strange how things can be okay one moment and your life falls apart the next?”
“Indeed.” Clint sensed she was speaking from personal experience. “Most people experience heartache in one form or another.” Coming to an intersection, he tapped on the steering wheel. “Okay. Tell me where you live.”
Jensen gave him the address.
“Not far. We’ll be there in less than half an hour.” He was glad. Clint was so tense. He felt brittle, like pieces of his body might break off under the stress of trying to act like he didn’t give a damn. “Then we’ll never have to see one another again.”
“Correct.” Jensen rubbed her palms on her denim covered thighs, fast enough to create a bit of friction. “Let’s talk about something innocuous.”
“Like what? Your love life? The last time we were together?”
“No. Clint…” The much-needed apology hovered on her lips. Before she could form the words, Clint grabbed her hand from where it rested on her knee.
“You’re still not married or engaged, I take it.”
“No. I don’t intend to enter into that kind of commitment.”
“That’s probably a wise choice on your part.”
“Oh? How about you? Is there a future Mrs. Wilder in the wings?”
“Hardly. I’m footloose and fancy free.”
Sensing an opening, she attempted to take it. “Clint…” Confidence was something she used to possess in abundance. This new insecurity she felt was difficult to deal with under the best of circumstances. Sitting up a little straighter, she was determined not to let her self-doubt show. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Ha!” He snorted. “You didn’t hurt me. You taught me a very valuable lesson about not trusting women.”
“Please don’t say that. We were