Page 39 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
“Naomi’s power went out. She wasn’t able to find an open shelter and stopped by my place to see if she could get a room at my bed-and-breakfast.”
“And you don’t have power there.”
“At Locke Pointe or Looking Glass Cottage.”
“I told Morgan I would ride it out in my car or try to get back home. She called Elizabeth, who invited me to stay here.” Naomi motioned toward the lights. “You have power.”
“We’re running on generators, which is why the lights are dim. Heat first, lights second.” Mrs. Arnsby held out her hand. “Let me take your coat. We have a boot bin over by the door.”
“Yes. Of course.” Naomi wiggled her boots off and set them in the plastic bin while Morgan followed suit. They hung their jackets, hats and gloves on the hooks before padding across the kitchen in their stocking feet.
“Where is Grandmother?”
“In the library.”
“And our…other guests?”
“Are upstairs settling into their rooms. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp in the dining room. I’ll be serving our traditional Christmas Eve meal.”
“Along with your delicious Christmas pudding.”
“Christmas pudding?” Naomi’s eyes lit. “I love Christmas pudding.”
“Mrs. Arnsby’s is the best.”
The cook waved dismissively. “You’re too kind.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. It’s delicious,” Morgan insisted.
“Mrs. Arnsby’s cooking skills are well known here on Easton Island,” Naomi said.
“Stop. You’re going to make my head swell.” Despite her protests, Morgan could tell the cook was flattered by the compliments.
“I have no doubt we’re in for a special Christmas Eve meal.”
“We are.” Morgan motioned toward the door. “Let’s track down Grandmother to let her know we made it safely.”
Mrs. Arnsby patted Chester’s head. “Chester can hang out with me in the kitchen. Go on now, take your spot.”
The pup promptly leapt onto his favorite chair, giving him a bird’s-eye view of the kitchen activities.
Morgan scratched his ears, reminding him to behave himself. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”
“He’s no problem at all.”
Cutting through the kitchen, Morgan and Naomi walked along the long hall, past the office, and the parlor to the cozy library.
As they drew closer, Morgan wasn’t surprised to find a roaring fire in the fireplace. Beneath the twinkling Christmas tree lights were piles of presents, each wrapped in holiday paper—Santa Claus wearing his traditional red suit, maneuvering his sleigh, laden with presents along the snowy hills, Frosty the Snowman leading a parade down the main street, mischievous elves, candy canes and snowy scenes.
Atop the tree was a stained-glass star, a family heirloom Elizabeth had inherited from her parents. Each of the tree’s decorations had been lovingly placed by Morgan and her grandmother.
As they crossed the threshold, Morgan noticed Elizabeth and Gerard sitting in front of the fire, talking in low voices.
Morgan cleared her throat to announce their arrival.
The conversation ended, and Elizabeth abruptly stood. “Finally. I was getting ready to send Jax out on the snowmobile to find you. Did you get my text?”
“Text?” Morgan tugged her phone from her sweater pocket. “I’m sorry. I must’ve missed it.”
