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and body heat were all they had to keep from freezing.
    Within ten minutes, the drafty house became unbearably cold. Amanda collected more pillows, bath towels, and sheets from the linen closet to provide them with extra warmth. That helped, and clutching Chloe close against her, she finally fell asleep.
    She had no idea how many hours passed before she was jerked awake by a loud popping noise in the kitchen, followed by the sound of gushing water.
Oh, no. The pipes!
    Shuddering, Amanda hurried to the other room. With trembling hands, she lighted the candle and squatted to open the cupboards beneath the sink, hoping she could stop the flood by turning off the valve. Her heart sank when she saw that the water was surging through a crack in the wall behind the curved PVC tubing. There was no way to turn off
that
gusher unless she ventured outside to the water main in the pump house.
Problem.
Her flashlight batteries were dead, and she had forgotten to get new ones. That left her with only the candle, which would be extinguished the instant she stepped outside. She’d be unable to find the water main in the darkness, and she might fall and injure herself if she tried.
    Her first responsibility was to protect her child, which she would be unable to do if she went down on the ice and froze to death. After returning to the sofa, she concluded that the owner of this dump needed to address the problem. Fishing her cell phone from her pocket, she was relieved to see the screen light up and indicate a full charge. She dialed her landlord. All she got was a message machine. It was the middle of the night, after all. Then an awful thought struck her.
Maybe he’s away to visit relatives over the holiday
. Hopefully not. Thanksgiving was more than a week away.
    She slipped under the covers and held her daughter close, praying that her landlord would call her back before the entire house flooded.
    *   *   *
    A loud pounding on the front door jerked Jeb erect in bed. Wearing only sweatpants, he cursed as he hurried to the entry hall. Tony stood on his porch, and typical of him, he bothered with no greeting when Jeb answered his knock.
    “Power went out last night. We need to form a team and go check on our neighbors. Not everyone has generators or a backup source of heat.”
    Jeb’s generator had kicked on automatically, and being located at the back of his house outside the laundry room, it hadn’t made enough noise to wake him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked. Judging by the pale hint of light on the horizon, the full break of dawn was an hour away.
    “What time is it, anyway?”
    “Five thirty and time to get rollin’,” Tony replied. “I’ve already called Pete. He’s got a woodstove for heat, so his wife won’t freeze to death while he’s out helpin’ others. And seein’ you without a shirt is bad for my self-esteem. I must’ve been in the back row when muscles were handed out.”
    Jeb knew Pete, a fledgling farmer in his thirties. Chafing his hands, he invited his neighbor inside. “Can’t help how my upper half looks. What’s the temp out there?”
    “Twenty below, and Myrna says it’ll be even colder tonight.”
    Jeb shut the door. He was all for helping neighbors, but if he, Tony, and Pete meant to be effective, they’d need to divide the area into sections, gather emergencysupplies, and keep in touch by cell phone in case one of them came up against a situation he couldn’t handle alone.
    Over coffee that Jeb made quickly at his built-in coffee center, the two men discussed a plan of action. When Jeb was asked which road he wanted to take, he said he’d cover Elderberry Lane. Bad of him, he guessed, but if his message writer lived on that road, maybe she’d get her wish and find a hero standing on her porch.
    Jeb found himself thinking of the woman often. She sounded so isolated. He had wished a dozen times that he could figure out which house she lived in and knock on her door to ask if