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At least Naomi didn’t mention anything about Sage or her ghoulish smile, so maybe she looked normal.
But she wasn’t normal. She was all sorts of off-the-rails crazy. Her stomach whirled along with the thoughts spinning in her head.
“They’ve declared a hurricane watch,” a customer said. “Tybee City offices close tomorrow. Looks like we’re getting hit. Time to get the storm shutters on.”
The man next to Sage held up his phone. “Evacuation orders are out for all the islands east of Savannah.”
“When do they want people out by?” she asked the man who’d announced the evacuations.
“Tomorrow evening by five.”
Carolina clapped her hand on her mouth. So soon.
Okay. She could do this.
“Do you need to leave?” Naomi asked.
“I… Yes.” She rubbed her temple. “I have to get the windows covered.”
“I’ll do it,” Sage said.
“You’ll put up the shutters?” Carolina shook her head.
A server dropped off Sage’s order. He asked, “Can I get this to go?”
Carolina pulled out a box and slipped his burger and fries into it.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Sage pulled out a twenty and a couple of ones.
“What?”
“Where will you stay? I’m offering my apartment.”
She was in an alternative reality. That had to be what was happening. Because Abby’s and Sage’s concern didn’t make sense. “Abby’s letting us stay here.”
“She is? But—” His mouth dropped open, then shut with a snap. “Where are the shutters?”
“In the left carport.” She pushed back her hair. “You slip them in the trough thing. Then slip over a bolt and there are wing nuts to tighten them down.”
“I’ll figure it out.” He pushed in the stool. “Who’s with Rosa right now?”
“Lorraine. She worked with my mother.” She was still reeling. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Tell her I’m on my way.”
Her head whirled. Maybe surviving on your own meant allowing people to help you when you needed it.
* * *
WIND PELLETED SAGE’S truck with leaves and debris, trying to blow him back to Savannah. The forecasters had said these were feeder bands from the upcoming storm. What would a real hurricane be like? By the time Sage drove across the downed palm fronds covering Carolina’s street, his hands were sore from strangling the steering wheel.
“Thanks for the help, Kaden, Nigel.” He had them on speaker, trying to nail down what he should get done.
“Strap everything down in those carports,” Nigel said. “Or get it into the house.”
“Will do,” Sage said. “Do you need any help?”
“We’re done here,” Kaden said. “House is locked down and power is off. We’re almost back to Savannah. Do you need help?”
“I don’t think so.” But he’d never prepped for a hurricane.
“Good luck.” Kaden hung up.
He wasn’t sure why he was helping Carolina. Except she and her mother were in need.
And he loved her. Nope. He thought he’d loved her. But had he really known her?
Maybe while he hung her storm windows he could sort through his mother’s suggestion of walking in Carolina’s boots. All his life he’d tried to live up to his father’s legacy, but Mom had bulldozed dear old dad off his pedestal. Sage’s life mission was fucked. Now who could he live up to?
His mother. Through everything, she’d maintained her honor. Unfortunately Mom didn’t approve of how he’d treated Carolina.
He pulled into the Castillo driveway.
Dashing through the rain, he knocked softly on the door. A stranger answered.
“Lorraine?” he asked. “I’m Sage.”
“Carolina let me know you’d be coming.” She held the door open.
He shook his head. “No need to bring in the rain. I’ll start putting up the shutters.”
Lorraine chewed her lip. “Rosa’s already in bed.”
“Okay, I’ll avoid her side of the house.”
In the carport, he grabbed the ladder he’d used while painting. He’d noted the pile of metal shutters lashed in the corner of the carport. Taped to the metal was a Ziploc bag of wing nuts. He sorted the shutters, glad there were only three different sizes.
He pulled the tallest shutters, tucked the Ziploc bag in his pocket, and headed for the porch. The wind tried to snatch the metal out of his hands. He hung on, not wanting to chase them through the neighborhood.
He eyed the shutter system. They’d never had anything like this on the Texas Panhandle. Setting the first corrugated shutter into the upper track, he fit the bottom of the panel over a long bolt. “I get it.”
