“I am a good patron,” he said. “I returned my stuff on time. Remember that.”
With that, he set off back across the drifts toward home.
Lindsey and Beth exchanged a look. Then Lindsey started to laugh and so did Beth. It may have been a fit of giggles or a small bout of hysterics due to the stress of the storm, it was hard to say. But Lindsey felt better afterward, and digging out the rest of the drift seemed to go faster.
Lindsey was eyeballing the last pile. It was pushed up against the door like a sleepy cat that had no intention of being moved from its favorite chair. Lindsey could feel the ache in her shoulders beginning to throb all the way down her arms.
She glanced at Beth. She was moving slower, too, and her breath was coming out in exhausted white puffs.
“I’ve heard about dedicated employees, but this is above and beyond the call of duty.”
Lindsey glanced around to see a person on cross-country skis approaching.
She recognized the plaid scarf immediately. It was Edmund. He used his poles to stop beside her.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she said.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “I came out to survey the damage and pick up a few things for my uncle.”
Lindsey took in his puffy jacket. It must have been quite a trek because his jacket was showing serious signs of distress. She had never seen either Bill or Edmund look less than impeccable, so it was a surprise to see a tear and several streaks of dirt mar his appearance.
He must have seen her look, because he brushed at the dirt and said, “I had a heck of a time getting these skis out of the storage shed. Even though we knew it was coming, we weren’t quite prepared for a storm like this.”
He used the tip of his pole to pop the latch on his ski and took out first one foot and then the other.
“I know what you mean,” Lindsey said. She glanced around the town buried in the white stuff. “I don’t think anyone saw this coming.”
Edmund propped his poles and skis against the wall and approached Beth. He took the shovel from her hands and gestured for her to go stand with Lindsey. He then began to dig out the last of the huge drift.
When Lindsey went to help him, he waved her away.
“No, I’ve got it,” he insisted. “You catch your breath.”
Lindsey was too tired to argue.
“Isn’t he nice?” Beth asked as Edmund shoveled twice as fast as they’d be able to.
“He really is,” Lindsey agreed. “He must take after his mother’s side.”
Beth laughed. “He’s certainly a refreshing change from surly Uncle Bill.”
Edmund finished in just minutes and joined them by the curb. He handed Lindsey the shovel.
“Thank you,” she said. “Your timing was perfect.”
“Yeah, I think my arms were about to give out,” Beth said.
He grinned at them and then popped his skis back on.
“Well, I’d better get back to Uncle Bill before he gets testy,” he said. “He doesn’t like to be alone in this weather. I think it makes him feel vulnerable.”
“Yeah, we should get back, too,” Lindsey said.
There was an awkward pause. Beth glanced between them and then took the shovels and headed for the snowmobile.
The sparkle left Edmund’s eyes as he studied Lindsey with a frown. “I don’t like the thought of you out in this storm; promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise,” she said. “You, too.”
“Oh, I will,” he said. Then he grinned as if pleased with her concern. “I have a lunch date that I’m looking forward to.”
Lindsey waved as he pushed off into the snow. When she joined Beth, her friend looked at her and asked, “Okay, now what?”
Lindsey glanced around the snow-blanketed town. The only place showing any sort of life was the Blue Anchor. Several plow trucks were parked in front of it, and a plume of smoke was rising from its chimney.
“How about a hot toddy at the Anchor?” she asked. “My treat.”
“Get on,” Beth said. “And you’ll notice I’m not even teasing you about Edmund and his obvious crush on you.”
“We’re in our thirties; we don’t have crushes,” Lindsey said.
“Speak for yourself,” Beth argued. “And you’re full of baloney; otherwise, why does your face get red every time you see Sully?”
“It does not!”
“Oh, please, you’re a regular hothouse tomato when he comes around.”
“Just drive!” Lindsey assumed her previous position and Beth shot them across the street, through the park and into the semiplowed lot of the local watering hole.
Not wanting to lose Nancy’s shovels, Lindsey handed one to Beth and gestured that they were to take them into the restaurant with them.
As they lumbered into the room, Ian Murphy, the owner, piped up, “Lindsey and Beth, is that you? Are you here to fatten up your skinny dates with some shepherd’s pie?”
All the heads in the bar swiveled in their direction, and chuckles broke up the room as the two women hugged their shovels close in a mock embrace before leaning them against the wall by the door.
Lindsey pulled off her goggles and scarf and teased in return, “Eh, I’m afraid I’m going to have to dump him. His personality is too wooden.”
Always appreciative of a good pun, Ian slapped down his bar rag and laughed. “Get in here, you two, and sit down. We don’t have any power, but I can offer you a nice shot of brandy to warm you up, and we’ve got the woodstove doing triple-time over there. Mary’s cooking up ham and potatoes on it.”
Lindsey glanced over to the corner of the room, where the woodstove, which was used more often as a decoration than a stove, was in full use. Ian’s wife, Mary, a member of their crafternoon club, was standing over the stove and stirring something in a cast iron pot that made Lindsey’s mouth begin to water.
“I’m in,” Beth said, and she hurried over to the warmth of the stove. Lindsey was right behind her.
“You look frozen,” Mary said when she saw them.
Several of the men who had been sitting by the stove rose to offer them their seats.
“Oh, no, we’re fine,” Lindsey said. She had a feeling these men had been working all night to plow the town out. They had to be exhausted and she didn’t want to take their seats.
“We’re headed back out,” one of them said. “We’re trying to dig out some of the harder-hit areas before the storm worsens.” He downed the remainder of his coffee and started to pull his heavy coveralls back on.
He gave Mary a smacking kiss on the cheek and yelled at Ian, “You married above yourself, Ian Murphy!”
“Don’t I know it,” Ian called back. “She reminds me every day.”
“I do,” Mary said to Lindsey and Beth. “That’s the first thing I say to him every morning. You traded up when you married me. Don’t forget it.”
Lindsey grinned. Mary and Ian were her favorite couple ever. Ian was short and bald and wore glasses, but he was so charming that within five minutes of meeting him you forgot he wasn’t much to look at. And Mary, well, she looked like her older brother, Sully. With mahogany curls that reached past her shoulders and bright blue eyes, she was a beauty, but she was also smart and funny. They simply adored one another and it made them delightful to be around.
“So, what are you two doing out in this?” Mary asked.
“Digging out the library,” Beth said. “We only got the front done.”
“Good thing,” Mary said. “Sully just called in and he thinks the storm is going to take a turn for the worse within the hour.”
Mary put a chunk of soda bread and heaping ladle full of ham and potatoes on each of their plates. She then came back with two steaming cups of coffee supercharged with brandy.
“We’re trying to keep the food going for the road crews,” Mary said. “Sully and Ian were out with them last night, but I forbid Ian to go back out until he slept a bit. He just woke up so I expect he’ll be leaving me shortly.”
Lindsey could hear the worry in her voice and she nodded. She didn’t much like the idea of Sully being out there
