Reinforced one barn door.
Covered part of the tractor.
The forecast worsened.
That evening, Victoria called.
“I’m looking at the radar.”
“So am I.”
“Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Ethan.”
“I’ve handled storms before.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“I’m asking whether you need help, not whether you’re capable.”
He paused.
“No. We’re set.”
“Call me if that changes.”
“I will.”
Lily slept in Ethan’s room because thunder frightened her.
The storm reached them shortly after midnight.
Rain hit the roof hard enough to sound like gravel.
Wind bent trees.
The power failed at 12:43.
Ethan used flashlights.
Checked Lily.
Then went outside between the strongest gusts to inspect the animals.
At 1:20, he heard wood tear.
A deep cracking sound from the barn.
He ran toward it.
Part of the northwest roof lifted.
For a second, Ethan watched it flex against the storm.
Then a section tore free and disappeared into darkness.
He could do nothing.
Trying would have been stupid.
He moved the animals away from the exposed section.
Closed an interior partition.
Returned to the house soaked.
Lily sat at the kitchen table wrapped in a blanket.
“Is the barn okay?”
Ethan knelt.
“Part of the roof came off.”
Her eyes widened.
“Are the animals okay?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She hugged him.
The wind continued until almost four.
At sunrise, Ethan walked outside.
He had seen storm damage before.
He knew how to assess it.
That did not make the sight easier.
A third of the barn roof was gone.
Rain had soaked stored hay.
One wall had shifted.
Fencing lay down along the north pasture.
Several trees had fallen.
The equipment shed lost one door.
The worst damage waited in the lower field.
Wind and flooding had flattened much of the remaining crop.
What had looked like a tight financial year the day before now looked impossible.
Ethan stood in wet soil.
Hands on hips.
For the first time in years, he felt the old exhaustion break through the surface.
Not grief.
Defeat.
There is a difference.
Grief says something precious is gone.
Defeat says you are no longer strong enough to carry what remains.
He sat on the tractor step.
For ten minutes, Ethan did nothing.
Then Lily came outside in boots too large for her.
She carried two mugs.
One was coffee.
The other was chocolate milk.
She handed him the coffee.
“I made it.”
He looked at the mug.
Coffee grounds floated on top.
“Did you use the machine?”
“No electricity.”
“How?”
“I put hot water from the camping kettle.”