Silent Night, Star-Lit Night (Second Chance at Star Inn)(12)
“You mean the snow emergency alerts, blizzard warnings, and no-travel advisories?” Jed grinned as he went through the litany.
She clapped him on the back. “And yet how absolutely delightful to be tucked inside where everything is bright and warm and—”
The entire house went black right then.
Inky darkness enveloped them, except for the flickering candles marking the tabletop and the mantel. The dancing flames of the fireplace seemed warmer in the dark. The lights flickered twice, and everything came back up again.
“Generator power.” Now Angel didn’t look quite so cheerful. She moved to the window on the south side, tipped back a swagged curtain, and peered out. “The town’s lost electricity.”
“Seriously?”
She grimaced and nodded. “We’ve got a backup generator that powers the inn; the family put it in about half a dozen years back. It was an expense, but a good one, because you can’t run an inn without electricity.”
“Do most folks around here have generators?” Mia asked. She stood and approached the window. “It’s dropping into the teens tonight, isn’t it?”
“Most don’t, but a lot of folks around here have woodstoves for warmth, and they’re prepared with candles and lanterns if they don’t have a generator on hand.”
“What about those who don’t have a woodstove?” Mia was unfamiliar with this geographic area, but she was quite familiar with emergency responses. “There are few alternatives in a situation like this. They can’t just hop into their cars and drive to someplace with power. Not with the storm and closed roads.”
“That’s always a concern. I expect if they’ve called a state of emergency Reggie Jackson will put out a call to set up a shelter in the church, most likely, though we haven’t needed one in some time.”
“Reggie Jackson lives in Heywood?” Jed looked surprised and Angel waved a hand.
“Regina Bauer Jackson, but in the baseball player’s day everyone got to calling her Reggie and it stuck. She’s bossy as heck and nice as can be, the kind that goes the distance, if you know what I mean.”
The best kind of disaster relief organizer, in Mia’s opinion. “Angel, I’m a disaster relief responder and a nurse. Can you tell Reggie I’d be happy to help out?”
“I will do that gladly, Mia, and I know Reggie will appreciate some experienced help on board. Old Tom Higgins is quick to volunteer and just as quick to doze off in a chair, not that there’s any harm in that. A little young blood would be a relief to her, no doubt.”
“Unless you become part of the emergency,” Jed noted in an I-told-you-so voice.
“Twelve days,” she reminded him. She shifted her attention back to Angel. “Should we volunteer now?”
“No.” Angel took her arm and gently propelled her over to the table. “If I go breathing down Reggie’s neck, I’ll never hear the end of it. You relax and eat, then catch some sleep. We’ve got a gas tank out back. Some don’t approve of that, but in times like this it’s a true necessity to keep the generator running. We’ve got a local food chain for emergencies. Ladies will drop what they’re doing first thing in the morning and come here to cook in shifts. We’ll make sure folks are tended, so no worries there. But we’ll make plenty of food and cookies, too, because if she ends up with even just the regulars at the shelter, that will be a couple of dozen people. And folks get hungry right quick.”
Mia knew the truth in that from her Red Cross deployments a few years back. There was something calming about locals coming in with food and supplies to help the displaced.
Still, it felt like she should be jumping into her role as a disaster relief responder, not sitting down to supper with the delightful inn manager.
“Food and rest. You can help in the morning, once Reggie’s got a handle on things. Unless the storm’s blown out and things are back to normal.”
The meteorologist took that moment to show the circular pattern of energy, guaranteeing at least sixteen more hours of heavy, wet snow.
“Looks like we’ll have time to help.” Jed held out her plate and nodded toward the buffet.
“I’m not used to being sidelined,” she told him. She glanced toward the window and the storm as Lorrie came through the swinging door to join them.
“The most important thing about sitting the bench—”
Like he’d ever done that in all their years of high school.
“Is to be at your best when the coach calls your name. I’m going with Angel’s wisdom. Food, rest, and then we’ll be on hand as needed.”
Mia understood the sense of the directive, but as she sat down with a plate full of good, hot food guilt climbed. She knew what it was like to lack comfort while so many around her took it for granted. She’d never said a word, not to anyone, but sitting down to a delicious hot meal while others went without seemed wrong.
If Angel was right and there were dozens of people needing help in the morning, then she needed to be on top of her game. And when she took the first bite of that hot stew with a slab of buttered bread, she remembered just how hungry she was.
By the time they’d finished eating, exhaustion set in. The baby didn’t like sitting. She rolled and stretched, letting Mia know she was cramped and displeased. And she made it a habit to wake up at night, stretching for room every time Mia lay down to sleep, her tiny baby limbs playing havoc with Mia’s rounded tummy.