“Of course it is. We can’t send them off into a blizzard, Lucy. Plus, they are good company,” Mom admonished me.
“We’ll try to stay out of your way,” Dex dryly replied before heading outside.
As he left, Braxton returned with a large box. “The radio said people might be snowed in for a day after the storm so I may have over prepared with a few things.”
“That’s fine dear." Mom smiled, patting his arm. “Lucy, help Dex bring in the rest from the car. Braxton, find William and see if he needs help securing the shutters upstairs.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Mom had followed Braxton to deposit the supplies. Growling, I shoved my feet into my boots and pulled on my coat, zipping it up as I stepped outside. The wind hit me, punishing me with icy snow that stung my face. I should have brought my hat and mittens, but I hadn’t been thinking. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I approached Dex as he grabbed the remaining bags from the car. Dex handed me a blanket bundle from the back seat. I tucked it under one arm and followed him back in silence. The snow was starting to drift, hilling up near the buildings so it was higher than my boots. I almost stumbled but Dex caught my elbow, righting me as we reached the porch.
When he let go, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
Inside, we brought the items to the reception room. I put the blankets with the extras we had washed earlier today in anticipation of the storm. Each guest room would get extra for the night since the temperature was still dipping. The good news was the boiler had been recently inspected and should continue to carry on as long as we had power. The inn might be old and drafty, but it was still warm enough.
Dex began pulling items out of a box. “Where do you want the lanterns?”
“On the table is fine,” I said without looking up.
He set them down and lingered a moment. “The wind’s coming in from the west. The shutters on that side could be shut. It will help retain some heat in the house and prevent any damage if a branch breaks from the nearby trees.”
“I know.”
“William and Braxton appear to be checking the upstairs windows. I’ll handle the porch side downstairs.”
“I said I can do it,” I snapped, then winced at how sharp it sounded.
He nodded once, the way people do when they decide a conversation isn’t worth continuing, and left. The door banged behind him. I closed my eyes, counted to three, and reminded myself that pride was a poor companion. This time I grabbed my mittens, hat, and scarf before following Dex into the snow.
It took both of us to get the shutters safely fastened closed. With the gusts of wind, I was nearly knocked off my feet a couple of times as a shutter suddenly flew out of my hands, slamming against the frame of the window. Dex was there each time to steady me.
It was infuriating.
My face and my fingers were frozen by the time we made it back inside. We brushed off the snow and took off our outerwear. I childishly refused to look or talk to Dex, instead going to distribute some emergency items to the guest rooms so they would be prepared if the power did go out.
By late afternoon, the storm was in full force. The sky was hidden by a wall of white. Snow piled fast along the porch rails and over the cars in the lot. We gathered in the dining room, shutters closed, with the fire lit for added warmth and ambiance. Jane had outdone herself with a stew, fresh bread, and enough apple crisp with homemade ice cream to feed a small army.
The guests joined us, grateful and slightly giddy. Storms had a way of turning strangers into companions which was a good thing. The inn was to create a family atmosphere where everyone created new friendships. The table filled quickly and we all had to squeeze in together. Chairs scraped, dishes passed, while conversation came easy waves. Mom told thestory of the time Dad tried to fry a turkey indoors. Lydia laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fork. For a while, it felt almost festive.
Dex sat across from me. His sleeves were rolled, his hair still damp from the snow. He said little, eating in quiet, but his eyes kept finding mine through the candlelight. It wasn't deliberate, but it wasn’t accidental either. Each glance felt like the beginning of a conversation neither of us was ready to have.
“Lucy, pass the butter,” Mom said.
I reached for it just as Dex did. Our hands brushed, a small, stupid contact that shouldn’t have meant anything. I drew back first.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“No harm done,” he said. The words were ordinary, but the tone wasn’t. Braxton’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Kitty caught the exchange and smiled like she was collecting gossip for later.
Mom was completely oblivious to the tension. “Isn’t this cozy! Nothing like a full table in a storm.”
“Cozy is one word,” I murmured.
Dex’s mouth curved faintly. “Another might be unpredictable.”
“Depends on who’s doing the predicting,” I replied, earning a confused look from Kitty.
“Are you two speaking in riddles?” she asked.
“I enjoy a good puzzle. Does anyone know any riddles? It might be fun to solve a few,” Braxton said cheerfully, changing the subject.
