They went on for two more minutes, advising people in the area on how to weather the storm.

Without saying a word, we stopped at the little Wal-Mart.

“Stay in the car,” Tolliver said roughly. “You’ll just get jostled.” It was really crowded, and people were coming out with carts full of emergency stuff, so I didn’t argue. We keep a throw blanket in the back of the car all winter, and I pulled it around me as he made his way inside.

Since there were only two of us to provide for and since we didn’t plan on staying in the area any longer than we could help, Tolliver didn’t have that much shopping to do. Nonetheless, it was at least forty-five minutes before he came out of the store with his buggy.

When we got back to the lake, we parked right by the stairs, about halfway down the steep drive. I decided I could help by moving one thing at a time from the car trunk to the middle of the stairs up to the living quarters, with pretty much a level swing of my arm. Then Tolliver could come down a few steps and get the stuff and put it away. It saved him a little work, and I felt like I was contributing. But I was shaking by the time we finished.

There was one more thing I needed to do. As a last-minute precaution, I backed the car up the sloping driveway and parked it parallel to the road. It wasn’t a neat job since I was driving one-handed, but least we wouldn’t have to negotiate an iced-over slope. I locked the car and went down the driveway and up the steps, moving carefully. The first licks of moisture were in the air.

Ted Hamilton came over a little later to make sure we’d heard the news about the weather. His wife, Nita, came with him, and she was just as small and slim and spry as her husband. They both seemed pretty excited by the prospect of the oncoming ice storm.

Tolliver had brought up so much wood that I thought we might have to leave Twyla some money to pay for it. The older couple nodded approvingly and settled in for a nice conversation. We unfolded the remaining two chairs, which had been leaning up against the wall. They were cloth spectator chairs, and they smelled a little off, but at least there were chairs. I could only offer the Hamiltons bottled water and a chocolate chip cookie, after we’d thanked Nita for her wonderful casserole, which we planned on finishing up for supper.

“Oh, no, we’re fine,” Nita said, speaking for Ted and herself after a glance in his direction. “You know, we’ve always been worried about that pine growing behind this cabin.”

“Why?” I asked.