Chapter 9
“A blizzard of epic proportions,” Morgan repeated. “This will be a first for me.”
“And me.” Quinn’s eyes grew round as saucers. “I was hoping for a white Christmas, but a blizzard seems a little over the top.”
Denver set his drink glass on the table. “At least we have a little advance notice before we’re snowed in.”
Morgan’s heart skipped a beat. “Snowed in on Easton Island?”
“We’ll need to shut the airport down.”
“And the ferry. The icebreakers will stop running until the storm passes,” Captain Davey, Easton Harbor’s ferryboat captain and owner, chimed in. “I’ve been monitoring the updates. When I saw this one coming across, I suspected we might be in for a whopper of a storm.”
Mrs. Arnsby started gathering up the empty glasses and popcorn bowls. “I’ll need to take an inventory of supplies and plan a trip to the grocery store first thing tomorrow morning before the shelves are emptied.”
“You guys are freaking me out,” Morgan said. “I’m with Quinn. I wanted a white Christmas, but a blizzard seems a little overkill.”
Elizabeth patted her arm. “There’s no need to panic. We’ll have a day or two of whiteout conditions, maybe a loss of power for a few hours. Once it blows over, the plows will be out in full force.”
“If we lose power, we’ll freeze to death,” Quinn said.
Jax waved dismissively. “Not a chance. We have plenty of fireplaces and firewood. We’ll be as snug as bugs in a rug. Besides, Easton Estate has ample generator power. We’ll barely even know the grid is down, if it goes out.”
Grace Coates, the manager of Lilac Inn and Morgan’s neighbor, squeezed past her. “I should get back to the inn to give guests a heads up they’ll need to leave the island before the storm hits.”
“Guests. Y-yes,” Morgan stammered. “I need to let my guests know as well.”
Captain Davey grabbed his coat and began making his way toward the door. “Based on the updated forecast, I’ll be able to run the ferry for at least part of the day tomorrow, until the winds kick in, the waves get too high and the icebreaker stops running.”
Quinn tugged on Morgan’s arm. “Maybe we should swing by the store and stock up tonight before everyone panic buys and there’s nothing left.”
“Beer and bread,” Denver joked. “Those two typically sell out first.”
“Great,” Morgan groaned. “I haven’t even finished my Christmas shopping.”
“Perhaps we should plan on a good, old-fashioned Christmas,” Elizabeth said. “No need for store-bought merchandise. We’ll improvise.”
“Here, here,” her husband agreed. “It’s become too commercialized these days. I think a non-commercialized Christmas sounds charming.”
“And cold if we’re without power,” Quinn said. “It’s a good thing my parents decided to wait until after Christmas to visit. I’m heading to the store now.”
The others took off. Meanwhile, Morgan and Brett lingered, waiting for their grandmother to return after seeing the guests to the door.
“I believe the show cast us in a positive light.”
“It was an interesting program and well done. I’m not sure how Mr. Wynn and Harlow feel about it,” Morgan said.
“All in all, I thought we were portrayed pretty accurately.” Brett tapped the top of his watch. “I thought about heading back to Toronto to wrap up a few loose ends, but I would hate to get caught on the mainland with the storm rolling in.”
“And no way to get home. I do plan to host our traditional Christmas Eve celebration here at the house regardless of the weather.” Elizabeth motioned to the spruce on the other side of the fireplace.
“I was going to ask for help decorating the tree tonight, but perhaps tomorrow might work out better.”
“I’m good with tomorrow. I want to swing by the store and then let the Locke Pointe guests know about the storm so they can make plans to leave before it’s too late.”
“Especially if the power goes off.” Elizabeth trailed behind, following her grandchildren into the hall. “Have you had any more prank calls?”
Morgan perked up. “Prank calls?”
“Someone called the office asking to speak with me,” Brett said. “When the receptionist asked who it was, the man hung up on her.”
“Maybe it was a nosy reporter, trying to get an inside scoop about the documentary.”
“I would have brushed it off if not for the fact that Mrs. Arnsby has taken two calls to the main number from a man asking if Brett lives here,” Elizabeth said.
“Could be a random nutjob,” Brett said. “Regardless, it’s something to be aware of.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” Morgan promised she would be more mindful of her surroundings and left. During the drive to Easton Harbor’s grocery store, she thought about the storm and the forecaster’s ominous tone.
While she took the warning seriously, she knew some meteorologists sensationalized approaching storms for ratings and views.
A former Floridian, Morgan had been through more than her share of hurricanes, some worse than others. While she had plenty of experience with the monster storms, a blizzard was new—and concerning.
With the warning ringing in her ears, Morgan promptly drove to the grocery store. As anticipated, the parking lot was packed. It took her two full trips up and down the rows before she finally found an empty spot.
She hurried inside and was met with what could easily be summed up in two words…controlled chaos.
Islanders jammed the aisles, loading their carts with everything from peanut butter to pound cakes. Without a single solitary shopping cart in sight, Morgan snagged one of the last baskets and began weaving her way around the other shoppers.
While there was bread on the shelves, it was slim pickings. Morgan grabbed a loaf of rye and headed to the canned goods aisle. On her way to the peanut butter, she picked up a three-pack of canned chicken, some tuna and canned ravioli.
With a couple more quick stops, she headed to the checkout lane.
She stood in a long line, waiting for what seemed like forever before finally reaching the front.
Back in her car, she drove straight to Locke Pointe.
The lights were on, and she caught a flit of movement, Greg and her pup, near the front porch.
Chester bounded down the sidewalk, his furry face covered in a dusting of snow.
“Hey, buddy. Did you miss me?” Morgan swiped at his whiskers. “If this snow keeps up, taking potty breaks is going to get tricky.”
Greg set his shovel aside and hurried to grab the grocery bags. “I was gonna call you to let you know you might wanna stop by the store to grab some supplies.”
“It was a madhouse.” Morgan hurried to keep up with his quick pace. “It reminded me of what it was like when hurricanes headed our way in Florida. Bottled water, bread…all the staples flew off the shelves.”
“At least you had some warning when a storm was coming,” he said. “I wouldn’t say this blizzard came out of nowhere, but it definitely ramped up in the last few hours.”
“I need to warn the guests they’ll want to pack up and leave early or risk being stuck here until the storm passes with limited heat and possibly no power.” Morgan trailed behind, following Greg up the steps and into the house. “I was wondering about our generator and what it will power.”
“It isn’t powerful enough to keep everything running.” Greg mentioned the fireplace and their stockpile of wood. “The main rooms will stay warm, but turning on the stove or appliances would be iffy. The bottom line is I doubt we’ll have enough juice.”
Tina bustled down the hallway, a concerned expression etched on her face. “I thought I heard voices. A storm is brewing.”
“A biggie,” Morgan said. “According to the latest forecast, conditions will deteriorate starting tomorrow. I need to let the guests know they’ll want to pack up and head out.”
Tina told them she’d already mentioned it during the evening’s social hour. “All are planning to leave tomorrow morning, either by ferry or plane.”
“I’ll check in with them to find out exactly when.
I would hate for them to get stuck here.
” Morgan hung her jacket on the hook by the door.
With Chester by her side, she climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Working her way from room to room, she spoke with each of the guests, confirming they knew about the impending storm.
Relieved to hear they were all planning their departure, she and Chester returned downstairs to the kitchen. “I’ve offered everyone a credit for having to check out early.”
“Which is only fair,” Tina said. “You were hoping for a white Christmas. It appears there’s a winter wonderland on the way.”
“Note to self…be careful what you wish for.” Morgan crossed the hall to the office and settled in at the desk. She promptly texted Wyatt to see if he’d heard. Instead of texting back, her cell phone rang. “Hello, beautiful. How did the show’s premiere go?”
“It was a great story about the Wynn Harbor Inn. Easton Holdings had a few mentions, and they included Brett’s and my interview. I don’t think I’ll have to don a ball cap and sunglasses to go out in public like Harlow Wynn,” she joked.
“You won’t have to worry about hordes of people descending on Easton Island, at least not for a few days.” Wyatt mentioned the storm.
“I’m at Locke Pointe, battening down the hatches. Guests are packing up and leaving the island before it hits.” A nagging concern popped into Morgan’s head. “Locke Village and Easton Harbor have reliable power grids, right?”
“They haven’t been tested in a while, but as a whole, they are or at least have been in the past.”
Morgan felt herself start to relax. “So your place and Quinn’s rental right down the street should have power?”
“I hope so, although like I said, it hasn’t been tested in a while. We haven’t had a blizzard like the one they’re forecasting for several years.” Wyatt’s voice faded. “Gotta run. Are we still on for breakfast in the morning?”
“You bet. I’m making you a lumberjack breakfast. It sounds like you’ll need energy for tomorrow,” she teased.
“I can’t wait.” Wyatt told her he loved her and ended the call.
Morgan pulled up her favorite weather app and clicked on the map. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the swirling white mass creeping toward Michigan and Easton Island.
An uneasiness seeped in, a feeling she hadn’t had in a while, not since she’d discovered her ex-husband, Jason, was stalking her. A small voice in Morgan’s ear told her this blizzard had the potential to create major issues.
She wasn’t far off. What Morgan didn’t know was that the Easton family dynasty would soon be shaken to its very core, and it had nothing to do with the impending storm.