Stevie put the lid back on the can. “Don’t be a spoilsport. We have coffee. Do you take yours with cream and sugar? If so, you’re out of luck. I haven’t found sugar, and the only thing that resembles cream is powdered formula for animals.”

“Black,” he said. “I take it black. When I was thirteen, I decided to start drinking coffee. I wanted some milk and sugar in mine. Mama shook her head and said that life don’t come all sweetened up, and neither did her coffee. I could learn to drink it black or leave it alone.”

Stevie set the old pot on the worktable along with the coffee. “Pearl is a smart woman. So, when did you try drinking it again?”

“I bit the bullet, so to speak, and started drinking it right then, that day. My brother Jesse just had to show me up and not even ask for sugar or cream. He’s a year younger than I am, so there was no way I was going to let him get ahead of me,” Cody said.

Lord, why does the room have to light up when he smiles? Stevie sighed.

“I’m going to put all the paint cans out in the barn. They’re dried up anyway and should be thrown away, but for now…” Cody dived into the cleaning project and began to help get things in order.

What light came from the single window in the tack room was fading fast by the time they finished. Then the single bulb in the room blinked once and went out. The refrigerator stopped humming—no lights and no power. Could it get any worse?

“There goes one of your essentials for survival. Chocolate is gone and now so is electricity. No shower either. Do you think you will live until Jesse gets here?” Cody asked.

“Oh, hush! I’m in no mood for teasing. I don’t suppose you found a candle or an old lantern out there in the barn, did you?” she asked.

Cody’s brows drew down in a frown. “There was one hanging on the side of the ladder leading up to the loft. I’ll see if it has oil in it and bring it in if it does.”

He returned in a minute with the lantern and set it on the now spotlessly clean workbench. “I’m guessing this thing is about half-full of oil, but we’ve only got three matches left.”

“I’ve got a pocketknife,” she said. “I can always whittle a match and we can use the fire from the stove to set it on fire.”

“Regular Girl Scout, aren’t you?” Cody said.