It shook him, more than he'd thought he could be shaken. She'd smiled, backed away, looking neither shocked nor dead. She'd simply kept that calm, tranquil expression on her face, and then she was gone. She'd left the door open behind her, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved quickly back down the hallway. She'd put her arms around him and nothing had happened. He moved to the French doors, opening the curtains she'd pulled against the violence of the night, and he watched the lightning flash through the sky, illuminating the mountains. The distant rumble of thunder was an angry counterpoint, but it wouldn't rain. He knew that, as surely as he knew that no one would die. Everything was on hold for the next two days. The weather would threaten, the wind would blow, but nothing would happen. The narrow road up the canyon would be blocked by fallen trees, and no one would risk coming out in such a storm to clear the way. No one would even know about it, with all outside communication severed.
