Chapter Four
Three hours later, Savannah and Harlan were the last to leave the ballroom. She’d refused to leave before making sure everyone was situated. Everyone but the two of them. Harlan wondered if she’d figured that out yet. They could stay where they were but there wasn’t an empty chair in the place, the tables were round and too small to be pushed together for people to lie on. Not to mention how uncomfortable that would be. Mrs. Harwood had sent over blankets and pillows and the remaining people were making do.
“Thank you for helping me. I can see that you’re accustomed to taking charge.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”
“You didn’t. You were a big help. Especially when those two women got in a fight.”
Harlan laughed. “You’re the one who defused that situation. All I did was keep their husbands from joining in.”
Savannah shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about that scenario. It was bad enough with only the women.”
“Got any ideas where you and I can sleep?”
“I think we should go over to the main house. I’m sure there will be someplace there where we can at least sit.”
Harlan wasn’t but he didn’t see what there was to lose. They got their coats, both a bit worse for wear, and got ready to brave the cold. There was ice and snow on the sidewalk that led to the main house, and more on the grass. Harlan looked down at Savannah’s feet. “You’d better let me carry you. If you try to walk on the ice and snow in those shoes you’ll fall down for sure.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need you to carry me.”
Harlan shrugged and opened the door. Savannah stepped through it and slipped immediately. Harlan caught her before she fell on her ass. “You were saying?”
She gave him the evil eye. “Just hold on to my arm and shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Three steps and three slips later, the last one almost taking him down with her, Harlan had had enough. “Screw this.” He picked her up and started walking to the main house.
She sputtered but he ignored her and kept walking. She maintained a stony silence for part of the way and then she started giggling. Before long she was shaking in his arms. “Stop laughing,” he said, exasperated. “You’re going to make me bust my ass and if I go down, so do you.”
“I can’t help it. All I can think is what a perfect end to this day it would be to wind up flat on my back on the ice.”
“I’ll pass,” he said, reaching the front porch. Harlan set her down and opened the front door, waving Savannah through. She walked down a hallway and took a right at the first doorway, which opened into a large updated Victorian style kitchen.
“Mrs. Harwood?” Savannah called. “I’m supposed to check with her that everyone who stayed is taken care of,” she told Harlan.
“She’s the owner, I take it?”
“Yes. Originally this was a plantation that’s been in her husband’s family since the eighteen-seventies. The main house was built around nineteen hundred. They turned it into a bed and breakfast Christmas of nineteen-nineteen.”
A small, wiry lady who looked to be in her early to mid-fifties came in, tightening her robe’s sash as she spoke. “I’ve been looking out for you, Savannah. I think everyone is set for the night. How we’ll feed them all in the morning, I don’t know.”
“I know you’re famous for your breakfasts, Mrs. Harwood, but as long as there’s coffee and possibly a few pastries we’ll be all right. Please don’t go to any more trouble than you already have.”
“It’s not every year we have a storm like this. In fact, I don’t remember one this early in all the years I’ve been married and living here.”
“There was one when I was a kid,” Mr. Harwood said, coming into the kitchen. Unlike his wife, he was dressed, albeit in sweats. “During Felicity’s Ball that year, too. Imagine that.”
“Boone,” Mrs. Harwood said with a warning in her voice.
