AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Friday
––––––––
Hope pulled a disappearing act overnight, inside the blizzard’s fury.
Maren woke to the ominous creaking and groaning of the huge pine tree in the inn’s backyard. She arrived at the window at 4:58 AM, just in time to hear a resounding snap and see the shaggy limbed behemoth crack and break, falling over across the yard and the part of the driveway that wrapped around the back of the house and separated it from the garage. Even as she was instantly relieved that it missed the garage by mere feet, it now blocked the garage’s big front door, and more than half the driveway, and a clear path to and from the house. Aside from being something that she simply wouldn’t have time to address this weekend, she made a face at the inconvenience of it. Her car was in the garage, along with the bulk of the firewood used for the three fireplaces in the house, and the commercial fridge where she kept more than half of the perishables she would need for the remainder of this weekend.
With a weary sigh, Maren flipped on the lamp near her bed, supposing she was up for the day and—ugh—would probably have to brave what looked like at least two feet of snow and now the fallen tree as well to get to the garage to get what she needed for the day. Quickly, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, and dressed, opting for a pair of black leggings and both a long-sleeved T-shirt and a heavy sweater, knowing she would be throwing on her long down coat and her tall winter boots.
As quietly as she could, she made her way downstairs, hoping the inn’s guests were snug and sleeping in their beds still. Shedidn’t need to turn on any light until she reached the back hall, where she kept her coat and boots in the extra large hall tree out there. This small room was not heated, and the windows were old and drafty and already she felt the cold as it was forced inside by the relentless wind.
“Of all weekends,” she muttered to herself as she sat on the hall tree’s bench and wrestled on her unattractive but serviceable duck boots. She pulled on her coat and buttoned it up tight and found her pompom-ed hat and thick gloves in a basket on the shelf. She donned those, hoping she could make it to the garage and back without mishap, hoping she could walk around the tree and not have to climb over it. From her window, it had looked as if the top of the tree actually reached Harmony Place, where the town’s truck had plowed, possibly several times by now, creating a wall of snow at the edge of the street. If she walked around the trunk end, where it had cracked in the yard, she would be forced to trudge through several feet of snow covering the lawn. Her best bet might be the driveway, as Hal had kept up with that fairly well yesterday, but then that would mean she had to climb and cross over the tree itself.
Fully dressed for the furious elements, Maren unlocked and pulled open the back door.
And was stricken mute and motionless by the sight that greeted her.
The bottom portion of the storm door was buried in snow. Literally, the steel panel and tempered glass were covered at least halfway up, reaching the height of Maren’s waist.
She circled her gloved hand around the frosted window at eye level and peered through cold glass. Snowflakes danced chaotically in the gray light. A thick layer of white covered every single thing. The picture was somber and eerie, and her shoulders sank, gripped by the stark scene.
“I should’ve bought a bed and breakfast in Florida,” she murmured.
“And miss all this excitement?”
Maren startled and whirled around and had to push the hood off her head to see that Alec Sullivan stood in the inside doorway.
He wasn’t looking at her but beyond, through the bank of windows along the back of this long mudroom. Dressed in jeans and a red hoodie, he appeared surprisingly wakeful and utterly relaxed, his hands tucked into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie.
“Well, that looks awful,” he commented and turned his gaze onto Maren.
She used her gloved hand to swipe away a loose fringe of hair that was not contained inside her hat. “Do you mean the amount of snow in general? Or this, that’s blocking the door? Or do you refer to the tree that just fell and barely missed hitting the garage?”
Alec shrugged. “Any of those. All of those. Where are you going? I hope you don’t mean to shovel or clear the snow? None of us can go anywhere, so there’s no need to plow a path.”
“I know. But I have a second refrigerator in the garage,” she said with a wince, “and firewood—”
She stopped, interrupted by the small globe light overhead flickering and then going out.
Alec leaned back inside the doorway briefly, glancing into the kitchen. When he reappeared, he announced hesitantly, grimacing with sympathy, she would later think, “The power is out.”
Maren’s shoulders drooped once more and lower this time. But she waited, staring at the light above her until it sprang to life again.
She smiled with relief at Alec, but then that reminded her of something else. “The generator kicked on. But the extra gasoline for that is also in the garage.”
“So, plenty of reason for you to get out there,” Alec concluded. “Let me get dressed. I’ll give you a hand.”
“Oh, gosh, no,” she was quick to refuse. “I mean, thank you, but I can’t have you, a guest, shoveling around the Inn during your stay.”
For some odd reason, this amused him. The chuckle that came was...well, it was nice, actually, she decided, in that she heard nothing negative in the rich sound.
“Maren, it’ll take you half a day to shovel a path to the garage,” he said. “And that’s if you can even get the door open.”
Stunned by this possibility, Maren turned around again and confronted the wall of snow outside the door.
“Oh, but it’s light, right? Not packed,” she said, turning the handle down and attempting to push the door out. “Seriously?” she grumbled when it barely budged.
“Let me try,” Alec said, coming to her side.
