Page 30 of Fire Harbor

As soon as the dogs spotted her, all three ran up to beg for dinner. She went to the refrigerator and brought out the subscription dog food, mixed up a bowl for each one, and watched as they devoured the food. After setting out fresh water, a loud roar of thunder sent the dogs into panic mode.

Lake let out a sigh, realizing it could be a long night with three dogs adapting to each other along with the unpredictable weather. She picked up her phone to check for messages. But if things were crazy here, they were probably even more so for Linus.

When her stomach rumbled with hunger, she decided to dig out a jar of homemade vegetable soup from the pantry and poured the contents into a pan. With the soup simmering, she got out cheese and bread to make a grilled cheese sandwich. While melting the butter in a skillet, Lake's thoughts wandered back to Linus. Although they had just connected, she’d already opened her big mouth and, in a weird sort of way, suggested he spend the night. She’d never been this bold with anyone else, this soon. She wondered what it was about Linus that had precipitated the change in her behavior. But she was, after all, babysitting his dog during a storm. She knew storms could make people do crazy things.

As she flipped the grilled cheese sandwich to brown on the other side, Lake couldn’t help but wonder what Linus was experiencing at that very moment.

Outside the wind battered the house. The storm’s fury echoed inside her head as she turned off the griddle, plated her sandwich then took her soup over to the island counter. After getting comfortable on one of the barstools, she turned on the weather radio. Despite the warnings about flooding and high wind, her mind kept drifting back to Linus. She could imagine him huddled in the rain, tending to whatever emergency had occurred, dealing with the turmoil that surrounded him.

Scout led the dogs into the kitchen, licking her chops and plopping down at her feet. As lightning and thunder cracked and shook the house, Scout whined, causing Jack and Farley to follow suit.

“You’re my ’fraidy cat, aren’t you?” Lake consoled, scratching Scout under her chin. When the other two wanted attention, she leaned in to cuddle Farley and Jack. “Don’t worry. Tonight, we’re in this together. We’ll get through it. You’ll see.”

She polished off her soup and part of the sandwich, wrapping the rest in a napkin for later. Just as she finished cleaning up the dishes, the lights blinked once, then cut off, and everything plunged into darkness.

The dogs bellowed their disapproval.

She grabbed the weather radio and scooped up her laptop out of habit, deciding the battery should last at least a couple of hours if she used it continuously—which she wouldn’t do—unless she got desperate. But with no internet connection, the thing was practically useless. She decided to chuck the laptop and stick with her cell phone to communicate. As soon as she could, she’d text Linus.

With the flashlight, she made her way to the front room, called the parlor during her grandmother’s day. Here, the fireplace took up one entire wall. She had another stash of candles with a box of matches she kept on the mantel. As she lit each candle, a soft glow filled the room, creating dancing shadows on the walls. Knowing the power hadn’t come back on yet, she went over to the floor lamp and turned the switch on anyway so the lamp would let her know when and if the electricity returned.

Until then, she’d build a fire. She picked out two dry logs from the basket by the hearth, broke up kindling to lay between the seasoned wood, and listened to the crackle and pop as the flames built.

The storm outside grew louder, sending flashes of lightning all through the house. Surrounded by her canine companions, she pulled out a thick blanket from the storage bench and settled down on the camel-colored sofa.

Farley nestled his head in her lap while Jack and Scout curled up on either side of her. She tossed the blanket around them all, creating a cocoon of security.

While the radio droned on about flash floods and high wind, she leaned back with the dogs, glued to the faint beam from the flashlight and the flickering of the candles, trying to remain calm.

She noticed Scout and Farley, their bodies shaking with each howl of the wind. So fierce was each gust that it rattled the windows. As the rain pelted against the glass, she knew she had to be the anchor here.

Lake tamped down the anxiety beginning to build in her stomach. She forced herself to focus on the comforting moment instead of nature’s fury. But with no distractions from modern technology, she found that difficult. Instead, she tried to zero in on the shimmering candlelight and the sound of rain tapping against the glass. Her mind wandered back to Linus once again. She wondered what he was doing at that very moment—whether he was safe and dry or out there battling the elements to keep someone safe.

As if reading her thoughts, Farley let out a low whine and nudged his head against her hand. Scout nestled further against Lake’s side, seeking comfort and warmth while Jack snuggled up as close to her body as he could get. At that moment, she wasn’t sure who was comforting or soothing whom. Lake closed her eyes and listened to the symphony of the storm, trying to will the lights back on. She should probably go to the basement and make sure they hadn’t tripped a breaker. But right now, she wanted to stay right where she was. She’d give it twenty minutes. If the power wasn’t back on by then, she’d venture downstairs and check the breaker box before switching on the generator.

As she waited for the power to return, the minutes ticked by while the deluge outside kept up a steady downpour. Again, instead of enjoying the moment, she began to worry about the roof. Was it in good enough shape to withstand the sixty-mile-per-hour wind gusts forecasted? She remembered the last time the roof went through a storm like this. Seven years earlier, during an El Nino weather pattern, the back shingles had blown off, and her dad had to put on a new roof. She hoped this wasn’t a repeat of that.

A boom of thunder made Lake’s heart pound in her chest, mirroring the roar that echoed through the darkness. She tightened her grip on Farley, feeling his warm breath against her skin, a reminder that she was not alone.

With each passing second, Lake’s anxiety intensified. The once comforting flicker of candlelight now seemed inadequate. She needed more than just a weak flame to get through this sea of uncertainty. The thought of venturing into the basement in the dark sent shivers down her spine, but she knew she had no other choice.

Gently extricating herself from the cocoon of dogs, Lake rose from the couch, gripping the handle of the flashlight to use as a weapon.

“You three stay put,” she instructed as she zigzagged her way across the foyer to the basement door located in the middle of the hallway. She hesitated for a moment before reaching for the knob, pausing to take a deep breath to steady herself. The door swung open with a prolonged squeak.

She flipped the light switch just to test the electricity again before aiming the beam down the wooden staircase. With each step, the boards creaked. Hundred-year-old wood tended to do that, she decided as she tiptoed all the way to the bottom. Scenes from a dozen horror movies crept into her brain. She ignored every scary film she’d ever watched as she followed a cinderblock wall to the breaker box.

With one hand holding the flashlight, she used the other to flip each switch back and forth, hoping to jar something inside the box that would restore the electricity.

“It’s not the breaker box,” a voice from the darkest corner revealed. “Power is still out.”

She shrieked and jumped back, shining the light into that black area.

“Sorry. Bad timing on my part,” Scott admitted. “I thought you saw me.”

Lake’s eyes focused on Scott’s usual attire—khaki shorts and a shirt. “You scared the crap out of me. But luckily, I recognized the voice. You’ve been in the library a few times. We’ve talked about books.”

She moved over to the corner where the generator had been set up. She was about to plug in the cord when the overhead lights flickered to life and then stayed on—five seconds, ten, then a whole minute.

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