Vance stepped toward the porch steps, hesitating as he saw the frail, white-haired woman watching them.
Margaret didn't flinch. She stepped forward to the edge of the porch, raised a weathered, trembling finger toward the driveway, and spoke with the firm, loving authority of a grandmother:
"Get those bikes around back and come inside! I’m not leaving anyone out in that storm!"
Vance stopped in his tracks, staring down at her in disbelief:
"Ma’am... nobody opens their door to us like this."