While they worked, Kate took an inventory of the room.
Tessa sat on the arm of the sofa with Olive in her lap, while the wee child told a rambling story about the wind that nobody could understand and everybody encouraged. Dusty’s attention was split between Olive and the window as he surveyed the damage, no doubt wondering what his own home looked like this morning.
Meredith and Connor came in to help, mostly laughing between themselves, but it was obvious to anyone that their work friendship had escalated to something more. There were long looks, casual but intentional touches, and a palpable connection that felt quite right.
Peter stood by the kitchen door with a phone to his ear and alert, listening stillness. Vivien took him a coffee, staying close to hear whatever he was learning on the phone.
“Where’s Eli?” Kate asked Meredith as she poured her own cup.
“He went outside to talk to Doug Fenton from Lakeside,” Meredith said. “He’s getting a report on how the half-built houses did.”
“Stir these eggs for me, Mer?” Kate said, handing her a wooden spoon. “I’m going to check on him.”
She found him on the front porch, leaning against a railing where his cup was balanced, the deep line back between his brows as he listened. As soon as he saw her, the line disappeared and he held out an arm, inviting her into his side.
“Right,” he said, planting a kiss on her hair. “Right. And the model home? Okay. Okay, that’s good, Doug. Send me the photos when you can. You can count on Acacia to help expedite that. Yep, I’ll call you when I’m back in Destin. Stay safe on the roads.”
Ending the call, he lowered the phone and looked at her. “Lakeside took some roof damage on the homes that weren’tbuttoned up, and there’s water in the model, but the structure held. Not bad at all, I’d say.”
“Have you heard from Maggie and Jo Ellen?” she asked.
He nodded. “They’re fine. They were up too late, I think, because Mom was asleep when I called her this morning. But all is well. Jonah, too, who checked in by text.”
“And the Summer House?”
The line came back between his brows. “Waiting for a report.”
Sighing, she pressed into him. “We made it through the storm,” she said.
He kissed her head again. “Long night and an even longer day ahead, but we’ll do it.”
Peter opened the front door. “I got the substation report. Come on in and hear.”
Eli picked up his cup and walked in with his arm around Kate, while everyone stilled to listen.
“Destin proper came through better than the early models said,” Peter started. “It tracked east of us at landfall and, just like Hurricane Michael, Panama City and Mexico Beach are the worst. As for us, there’s damage, there’s flooding in the low spots, the beach took a beating.”
“Any word on Miramar Beach?” Dusty asked.
Peter winced. “Lotta storm surge. I hope your sandbags held.”
“So do I,” Tessa said, looking at her husband.
“Gulf Shore Drive?” Eli pressed. “How high was the surge?”
“Over five feet, but we don’t know what that’ll look like. They haven’t cleared the road yet, both sides are blocked by downed trees. No power to speak of but crews are pouring in. No one I know has been on the beach, so we don’t know if the dunes held.”
Eli closed his eyes. “They held,” he said, as if saying it made it so.
“The thing is, for us,” Peter continued, “it’s not the catastrophe they were calling for on Thursday.”
The room quieted a notch, everyone saying their own internal form of gratitude. Even Olive’s story trailed off.
“Eli, you built that house like a fortress,” Vivien said. “And we will find out it stood like one.”
Kate slipped away to the kitchen, back to the stove with a smile of gratitude to Meredith who, no surprise, had made a perfect scramble.
“Breakfast is almost ready!” Meredith called.
