There were several other volunteers helping the displaced get settled. At this point in the storm, they’d get mostly the elderly and families with small children, which made for an interesting mix. But if the storm didn’t ease up or change back to a more manageable snowfall, people would start risking the weather to get a warm bed and some food as the temperature dropped—both outside and in their houses.
She hadn’t even gotten around to opening her ice cream yet. If her power went out and it melted, she was going to be really bummed. She’d need it after this.
When she saw Mrs. Palmer approaching her, she almost groaned aloud. “What can I do for you?”
“Where are the jigsaw puzzles? We always do puzzles.”
“I’ll bring them out in a little while. Right now we’re trying to get the cots, blankets and food situation taken care of.”
“What am I supposed to do, then?”
Delaney smiled and did not suggest the woman help with the cots, blankets and food situation. Nobody would thank her for that. “Maybe you could see if Penny needs any help?”
Penny was so going to make her pay for that later. Probably tenfold, even. But Delaney needed to get the cots set up because she had the chart from the fire department and if everything wasn’t up to the safety code, they’d have to do it again. It was a lot harder once people started showing up.
At least Mike and Sandy had a generator, which meant even if Brody was there with her and the power went out, he wouldn’t be showing up at the school. It was hectic enough without throwing in a lost love. Not that he’d been lost. He’d deliberately left her behind without even telling her goodbye.
Hopefully she’d get through this storm and his surprise return to Tucker’s Point without telling him hello.
CHAPTER TWO
THE CHILL WAS already creeping into Sandy’s small house, and Brody knew whenever the power didn’t come back within a few minutes, it could be an hour or it could be a while. And a while with no heat was no fun.
“I can’t stay here with Noah,” Sandy said, as if she’d been reading his mind. “He’s too little.”
“You don’t have a wood stove or a generator or anything?”
“We don’t have a wood stove because of Mike’s allergies. And we had a generator, but it died and we haven’t gotten around to having it fixed yet.”
“Space heaters?”
“Mike has a torpedo heater for the shed, but it’s not really meant for in the house. And I don’t think we have any kerosene for it, anyway.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, considering the options. If Mike hadn’t been able to get the generator running, there was no sense in Brody standing around in the cold, tinkering with it. But Sandy was right. Noah was too little to weather having no heat with not even an estimated time for power restoration.
“How about Mom and Dad’s?” he asked. He could drop them off, have a quick cup of coffee and then, hopefully, still get out of town and to a hotel.
“The way Dad smokes?” Sandy shook her head. “A quick visit’s one thing, but Noah can’t stay there.”
“We might make it to a hotel, but we’d have to leave now.” The motels in Tucker’s Point were all closed for the off-season, so they’d have to go inland or down the coast. He’d take the chance alone, but not with his sister and a baby in the car. “It’s already white-knuckle out there.”
Sandy stood in front of the window, gently bouncing the blue bundle in her arms. “We can’t risk that. I think we should head to the school before it gets any worse.”
He agreed, but that didn’t make it sit any easier. The plan was to get in, get out and not see anybody but his sister and her family and maybe his parents if he had the time. The plan didn’t include sitting around an elementary school gymnasium with whatever percentage of the population of Tucker’s Point showed up.
The only saving grace was that there wouldn’t be too many people from his old neighborhood. The fishing families tended to be a hardier bunch and more self-sufficient, so they’d weather the storm better.
“Brody?” his sister prompted.
“Yeah. We should go.” He reached out to take the baby from her. “Gather up whatever you’ll need and we’ll go before it gets any worse.”
It wasn’t a fun ride. Front-wheel, all-wheel or four-wheel drive didn’t matter on ice and his fingers were strangling the steering wheel before he even reached the end of Sandy’s road. With her neighborhood in darkness, it wasn’t bad, but when they passed through areas that still had power, the ice refracted lights and pierced his eyeballs.
He crept along the streets and with every slip of the wheels, he grew more conscious of the precious cargo sleeping in the backseat. Sandy was quiet, probably not wanting to distract him, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the end of Oak Street and turned into the school lot.
“Do you want me to carry Noah?”
“You can get our bags in one trip if I take him, but I’ll leave him in his seat so he’ll be protected if I fall on the ice.”
“Hold on to the handle if you do fall.” Brody chuckled. “Otherwise he’ll go on one hell of a first sledding trip.”
They made it to the double doors marked as the shelter entrance without falling and Brody set their bags down to hold the door for Sandy. After picking them back up, he followed her in, blinking under the bright lighting.
“We have to sign in,” Sandy said. “They need to know who’s here, plus if there’s a problem in my neighborhood, they’ll know where I am.”
He set the bags next to her feet. “I’ll take care of it. Wait here.”
“No, wait,” he heard her say as he turned and stepped toward the woman with the clipboard.
Just as the woman with the clipboard turned toward him.
“Delaney?”
* * *
THE CHAOS AROUND Delaney faded into the background as her eyes met Brody’s, and her breath caught in her throat.
The last thing she needed was to be snowed in with Brody Rollins.
He’d changed during his five years away. His clothes looked expensive and his dark hair was obviously being professionally cut now, rather than hacked at by his mother in the kitchen when it got shaggy enough so it fell over his eyes. At twenty-seven, his face had matured and he had an air of confidence he’d never had before.
But that rough and dangerous boy was still there, simmering under the thin layer of polish. As always, the girl inside who’d loved him immediately yearned for his touch, but that girl needed to behave so she didn’t embarrass herself.
Holding the clipboard against her chest, as if it were some kind of cheap plastic armor, Delaney forced herself to smile. “Hi, Brody. It’s been a long time.”
“It has.” He didn’t return her smile. Instead, he looked at her so intently she felt as if she was being memorized. “You look great.”
If women with windblown ponytails, crowd-wrangling crazy eyes and a fresh coffee spill down the front of her favorite Red Sox sweatshirt were his thing, more power to him. “Thanks. You do, too.”
Oh, crap. The sweatshirt. Delaney clutched the clipboard tighter, as if she was trying to hide the baseball logo on the front. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her sweatshirt—so much her favorite, the hem and