Page 33 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
With a plan in place, the trio parted ways…Brett to speak with Jeff, Elizabeth to instruct the staff on the unexpected visitors and Morgan to return to Locke Pointe to make sure her guests were packing up and preparing to depart.
A storm was brewing, and it wasn’t just the blizzard blowing across the heartland. Something told her Brett would have his hands full, not only with how he planned to handle having a son in his life, but a girlfriend, soon-to-be-fiancée who was about to be blindsided.
Morgan knew one thing for sure. She was glad she wasn’t in her brother’s shoes.
Chapter 14
From her picture window, Naomi Renaud watched the ferry finish docking, a feeling of impending doom settling in the pit of her stomach. She had missed the boat…literally, waiting too long to decide to leave Easton Island and seek shelter on the mainland.
She dialed her best friend, Priscilla Finkpin’s, number.
Priscilla promptly answered. “Hello, Naomi. Were you able to find a hotel room in Port Huron?”
“I’m still on the island.”
“I thought you were leaving. You still have power? I lost mine an hour ago.”
“Mine is out as well. Where are you?”
“Elizabeth invited me to her place to ride out the storm.”
“Easton Estate has power?”
“Generators, and lots of them, enough to keep the lights and heat on.” Priscilla told her that the airport was being used as an emergency shelter.
“You’re right. I heard they were keeping it open. I’ll head there now.”
“Let me know when you make it. The roads are treacherous.”
Naomi thanked her for the warning and ended the call. She threw a bunch of clothes into an overnight bag, grabbed her toiletries from the bathroom and hurried to her car. She started the engine to warm the interior and began scraping off the snow.
It was a futile effort. As soon as she finished clearing the rear window and taillights and began working on the front, the back was covered again. Finally giving up, she shoveled a path wide enough to get her vehicle out of the driveway and hopped in.
With the windshield wipers and defrosters on full blast, Naomi crept along the side street. A handful of vehicles lined both sides, all covered in a thick blanket of snow.
Naomi mentally berated herself. She should have known better. The forecasters had been warning of the impending storm for days, insisting a blizzard of epic proportions was heading their way.
But Easton Island was accustomed to severe weather, towering snowdrifts, and icy conditions.
With a reliable power grid, at least in the past, Naomi had only been mildly concerned. She’d weathered her fair share of winter storms and perhaps let her guard down, thinking it wouldn’t be as bad as they had predicted. And she would have been just fineifthe power hadn’t gone out.
Turning right, she crept forward at a snail’s pace along the main road. She had almost reached the turnoff leading to the airport when she came to an abrupt halt. A tall wall of heavy, wet snow blocked the road. “Now what?”
With her heart hammering in her chest, Naomi backed up, colliding with another pile of drifting snow. The road she’d taken was now covered. Her tire tracks were barely visible.
Driving back through town, she passed a vehicle, a four-wheel-drive pickup with a plow on the front. Not a single city plow was in sight, and she suspected the workers were hunkered down, waiting for the storm to pass.
Only foolish islanders like herself were scrambling to find a warm shelter and place to ride it out. Passing by her house, she drove out of Easton Harbor. Sticking to the main road, she stayed in what was left of other drivers’ tire tracks.
Thinking the other side of the island might still have power, Grace Coates’ Lilac Inn was her first stop. Naomi’s hopes were quickly dashed when she noticed the place was empty and the lights off. Circling around, she drove past Morgan Easton’s Locke Pointe Bed-and-Breakfast, which sat next to the vacant lot she owned.
Naomi swallowed hard, fighting the urge to panic when she noticed it was also dark. No lights meant no electricity.
Thinking there was still a slim chance she could reach the airport by cutting through Locke Village, she backtracked and drove through town. It was eerily quiet without a single soul in sight.
Naomi’s scalp tingled, and the first inkling of alarm settled in. Even if she made it home, she had no way of staying warm without ample wood for her fireplace.
She tapped the gas and coasted to the end of the main street where she stopped, although it wasn’t necessary…she was the only car on the road. Around the corner and winding bend she drove. So far, so good. A glimmer of hope bubbled up. She might actually make it to the airport.
