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she would make those chocolate chip cookies for him. He’d driven Elderberry a few times early of a morning, and he’d only ever seen a dark-haired woman walking her little girl to the bus stop. In the glare of his headlights, she’d looked too pretty to be the message writer, and her child had been wearing pink snow boots, which the composer of the notes said she couldn’t afford to buy. Nope. If a woman that pretty were in the market for a rescuer, she’d have no problem finding one.
    Interrupting Jeb’s thoughts, Tony said, “Even though I had my diesel truck hooked up to a block heater all night, I had a hell of a time startin’ it this mornin’. Way I figure, even if we have only a team of three, we can drive some of our neighbors to relatives or friends who have backup heat.”
    Jeb took a swig of coffee. “How long do you think this outage will last?”
    “Could be days if another storm hits. Pete knows a guy who works at Mystic’s Lightning Bug Electric, and he says lines are down all over the area. They get one fixed, and another tree falls, and just the weight of the ice is snappin’the wires in two.” Tony shook his head. “I’ve never seen it this cold. Myrna forgot a plate of brownies in our microwave. It’s mounted above our cookin’ range on an outside wall. Our house felt warm as could be, but when she found those brownies this mornin’, they were froze solid with frost on top. Without heat, some folks could freeze to death.”
    The thought gave Jeb the shivers. “What’s our plan if we run across a neighbor who has no friend or relative in town with a woodstove or generator?”
    “If we got room, which I don’t, we can put ’em up in our homes. Or we can drive ’em to a motel or B and B that has a backup generator. A last resort would be to call the cops. The churches will provide shelter, and the cops will know where to take people.”
    Jeb could count the churches in Mystic Creek on the fingers of one hand. He guessed that when they ran out of room, the fire station, the sheriff’s department, and other public places would take people in.
    The mention of shelters reminded Jeb of his livestock and chickens. “Before I can go shopping for emergency supplies, I have to tend to my animals. My truck will be overloaded, so I’ll leave Bozo in the laundry room. Not much in there he can eat.”
    “Long as you’ll be gone, the doors might start lookin’ tasty to him,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Good thing you’re a woodworker. You can replace anything he chews up.”
    *   *   *
    Jeb donned shoe chains and thick outerwear before taking care of his animals. He knew that Charlie Ramsey would open up the sporting goods store early so peoplecould get supplies. Jeb just prayed Charlie had plenty in stock.
    Marble, Jeb’s frosted gray Lincoln ewe, met him at the gate of her pen. For a moment, Jeb thought his eyesight had gone haywire. The sheep looked lopsided. After entering the enclosure, he saw that Marble was as bald as an onion on one side from her flank to her shoulder.
Say what?
He walked her pasture and found where her mottled wool had frozen to the ice and been jerked out by the roots when she stood up.
Ouch!
Jeb led the ewe into her shed and put a sheep jacket on her, threw in fresh straw, and made sure the electric ring in her trough had kept her water from freezing.
    En route to the barn, he nearly stepped on a gray mourning dove roosting in the snow. For weeks now, he’d seen a pair of doves on his land. Circling the bird, Jeb realized it had frozen to death. He wondered where its partner was. Mourning doves were monogamous, and he knew this bird’s mate would die of grief. Recalling how Marble’s wool had frozen to the ground, Jeb concluded that the dove may have gotten stuck in the snow. It saddened him to think of its mate left alone to face certain death.
    *   *   *
    With a hand gone jerky from the freezing air, Amanda tried calling her landlord again and