SEALed at Midnight by Cat Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

shoulders.
    Blindly feeling along the furniture, she made it past the coffee table and rounded the end of the sofa, which left her without any guide to hold on to until she reached her next landmark.
    Aiming in the general direction she believed the kitchen doorway to be, Ginny took one slow step and then another. Hands extended in front of her in the darkness, she kept up her slow and steady progress, one shuffling step at a time . . .
    The pain was sharp and immediate stabbing into her hip.
    “Shit.” That was definitely going to leave a bruise. She rubbed the spot with one hand.
    She’d obviously walked into something but the question was, what?
    Feeling the object that had jabbed her, she realized it was the corner of the desk.
    On the bright side, at least she could tell where she was in the room.
    Now that she had her bearings, she knew she was just steps from the kitchen and the flashlight she so desperately needed.
    With both hands on the wall, Ginny felt her way through the doorway and along the countertop. She blindly swept her hands across the surface, encountering the lid from the soup can she should have thrown away and hadn’t.
    Aside from her slovenly ways, that was good news. She swept her hand farther along. The flashlight should be right . . . there!
    Her fingers connected with the light and she pulled it to her.
    Feeling for the switch, she finally found it without dropping the precious item. The golden beam illuminated the room, casting shadows that could only be described as creepy.
    She was so over having no electricity. No heat too. But now that she had the light, she could at least go find her cell phone in the living room and not feel completely cut off from the world.
    Maybe if she called the power company’s emergency line, they could tell her how long the electric would be out. Then she could decide how dire the situation was.
    If it wouldn’t be out for too long, she could just light candles, make a fire and wait it out.
    Of course, she’d have to figure out what power company serviced this area. Which would require an online search, and that would require her cell phone.
    Step number one, get her phone where she’d left it last night—hopefully right on the coffee table.
    Happy with her plan and armed with the flashlight, she turned to make her way back to the living room. She’d just made it past the killer desk without further injury to herself when she heard it, a loud bang outside.
    She halted in her path across the living room. After another few seconds the first sound was followed by another.
    A gust of wind blew past the house. Through the window, by the light of the moon, Ginny saw the snow blow across the yard and add to the drift forming against the hedges that lined the driveway.
    The banging repeated twice more.
    City girl that she was, it took Ginny a few minutes to identify the sound. It had to be the barn door. It must have blown open in the wind. If she didn’t go secure it, it would likely bang all night.
    She was going to have to go outside and get firewood anyway so she might as well fix the door while she was out there. Barring two feet of snow on the ground, of course.
    In that case, there was no way she was making the trek across the yard to the barn. She’d just deal with the banging.
    Why did these people even need a barn anyway? It wasn't like they had any animals to put in it. Well, no animals except for the crazy cat that avoided Ginny like its life depended on it.
    The homeowner’s tall rubber snow boots were sitting right by the door.
    Apparently the woman of the house was more prepared for the weather in this region than her. Ginny had brought her cute fuzzy booties with her, but those were more for looks than for actual snow.
    She pulled the homeowner’s boots on. They were probably two sizes bigger than Ginny’s size seven. She was swimming in them, even with her big fluffy socks on, but she figured she could make it to the barn and back.
    After