“Where are you thinking?” Mitch said, knowing there was only one location in town that could house that volume of evacuees.
“It’s gotta be the community center. They’ve got a kitchen, bathrooms, and the necessary space. The church said they can take some overflow, but it’s minimal.”
Mitch’s throat swelled with a lump he couldn’t choke down.
“No soiree then, huh?” RJ asked what they were all thinking.
“Not tonight.” Captain Anderson sighed. “I’m about to issue a statement, but I wanted to give you all a heads up first. It’s going to be a long night.”
Mitch didn’t havethe heart to tell her, but he had to relay the recent developments to Faith. She needed to know, and he wanted her to hear it from him first. Soon, it would travel the Snowdrift Summit gossip chain, even with the outages that kept television screens dark and radios silenced. People had phones, and a text message was a powerful thing.
Still, he knew he needed to deliver this message face to face.
She wasn’t at the bakery. He’d tried there first, hoping to catch her before she headed to the community center with her loads of pastries and desserts. He should have figured she would be trekking back and forth all day to get things ready for the grand event. Even with the large number of helpers and committee members she had dedicated to the effort, it was still a big production.
It wasn’t until he stepped foot in the banquet hall that he understood the enormity—and the enchantment—of such a soiree. The space had completely transformed from just the other day when he’d gone around with Faith and his clipboard, delineating code after code. This evening, it rivaled an impressive Hollywood set, with big, beautiful bouquets standing regally on podiums, round tables meticulously placed with the shiniest gold utensils, chargers, and glassware, and strands and strands of glowing white twinkle lights draped elegantly around the room.
A hitch in his breath caught within his chest.
“Mitch?” Trinity peeked out behind a large vase cradled in her arms, filled with peach ranunculi and giant white roses, and greeted Mitch at the entrance. “What are you doing here?” Sheglanced down at her wrist awkwardly while she tried to keep the bouquet balanced. “The soiree doesn’t start for another three hours.”
Mitch’s neck felt hot. He squeezed the back of it, feeling a sudden ache tensing his shoulders. “Hey, Trinity. Is Faith around?”
“Last I saw her, she was in the sound booth with Jack going over tonight’s playlist. Check there first.”
“Great. I will. Thank you.”
He funneled his way through the maze of tables and chairs, skirting past volunteers dashing about as they flitted from task to task like bees hopping between garden flowers.
Soon, the place would be packed, but it wouldn’t be for the celebration they’d all hoped.
Just as Trinity had said, Faith was finishing up with Jack in the sound booth, peering over his shoulder to look at something pulled up on his laptop screen. Before Mitch could even say hello, she glanced up and caught his eye, the biggest smile bursting onto her pretty face the moment recognition clicked into place.
“Mitch.” She smirked. “You’re a little early for that dance I promised you.”
“Hey.” He scratched his neck. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She looked at Jack, clearly understanding that Mitch hoped to speak in private.
“Yes, of course.”
Mitch hated the concern that drew her eyebrows together and turned that happy grin into a flat line. She stepped out from the booth, taking Mitch’s elbow to guide him. “Is everything okay?”
He wanted to wait until they were out of earshot, but he couldn’t keep her in suspense like this. It wasn’t fair. “You know that storm that’s rolling in?”
“You mean the one that already rolledin? I thought I was going to have to put chains on my car just to drive it over from the bakery.” Mitch wished she would have called him about that. It was something he absolutely would have helped her with. “It’s downright nasty out there,” Faith continued. “I hope it doesn’t keep too many people away tonight.”
It’ll be just the opposite, he thought, his throat aching with the words he needed to tell her. “Faith, I’ve talked to Chief Anderson, and he says there are a lot of homes without power already, and more expected to lose it….” Deep breath. “They’re issuing evacuations.”
Faith’s eyes fell wide open, panic, sorrow—a mix of every shocked emotion—making her mouth slip open, too. “Oh.”
She knew what it all meant, but he still had to say it out loud.
“They’re going to be opening up the community center, Faith.” His hand reached out for hers, fingers threading with her own more for his comfort than anything else. “I’m so, so sorry. It looks like there won’t be a Sweetheart Soiree this year after all.”
There was a ten second pause where Faith maintained that stunned expression, but something was clearly at work behind her light green eyes. He didn’t want to rush her response. This was big news, and it would take some time to sink in.
Then, like snapping instantly out of a trance, she blinked up at him.
