Cabin Fever Read Online Free PDF Page B

the waitress was back with a plate and silverware, which she lined up in front of Sarah. “So what brings you to town?” she asked.
    “I needed some time to myself,” Sarah answered.
    “Man trouble?”
    “Oh, no. Business trouble.”
    “Oh boy. I’m sorry about that. Men come and go and we get on with our lives, but it sounds like your troubles might be a bit more stubborn than that.”
    “They could be. Actually I’m here to think about what to do about that situation. Figure out what’s next.”
      “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Tall Pines is just the place for a good think. Why, I find myself thinking all the time!” She smiled and extended her hand. “You can call me Bessie, by the way. I run this place, and you’re always welcome here if you need someone to talk to.”  
    Sarah smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bessie. I’m Sarah. I think I just may take you up on your offer. You make some of the best coffee I’ve ever had.”
    “Don’t compliment her or you’ll never hear the end of the bragging,” said a gruff voice. Sarah looked over her shoulder to find that it belonged to an older gentleman in a rumpled shirt and tie, who was easing himself slowly into the adjacent stool. Bessie playfully batted at him with a dishtowel and moved off down the counter to wait on her other customers.
    Sarah swiveled the chair to face him, holding the coffee cup in both of her hands and enjoying the warmth that seeped through her fingers. “You don’t like the coffee?”
    “Oh, I love it, but I’ve been coming in here for more than twenty years. After all the nice things I’ve said about the coffee and the food, it’s starting to go to Bessie’s head.” He peered at her appraisingly and then extended his hand. “You’re new around here, aren’t you? I’m Duane.”
    “Sarah. Is it that obvious that I’m a tourist?”
    “Well, sure, you look the part – not many people around here dress as finely as you do, but it’s mostly that you’re pretty. I notice the pretty ones.” He spread a newspaper out before him on the counter and started scanning the headlines. Something he saw there upset him, and Sarah could hear him muttering under his breath.
    Finally she was too curious not to ask. “Bad news?” she asked, inclining her head to the newspaper.
    “No worse than usual, no. But these writers! They wouldn’t know quality journalism if they found it lodged inside their…”
    “Watch your mouth in here, Duane. I’ve told you before – the other customers want to enjoy their breakfast, not hear you shout about the decline and fall of western journalism.” Bessie placed a bowl of fresh fruit and a croissant on a dish in front of Sarah and gave her a smile. “There you go. Will you be needing anything else right now?”
    “Freshen my cup?” Sarah asked, pushing the cup across the counter towards her. Bessie obligingly topped it off, and Sarah took the warm cup back between her hands. She looked at that croissant with some suspicion, then reached out and tore a corner off. It was tender and flaky, and when she put it in her mouth it melted into a sensation of pure buttery delight. She moaned.
    Duane chuckled. “Pretty good, huh?”
    “Oh my God. It’s amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever had a better croissant.”
    “Dan is a talented man. We all thought he was crazy, closing up his bakery in Portland and moving here, but we’re happy to have him. I was never much of a bread or pastry man, but he’s just about changed my mind.”
    Sarah was hardly listening, so intent was she on her croissant that was disappearing bit by bit into her mouth, alternating with sips of the coffee. If her first breakfast was any indication, she needn’t have worried about the food in this town.  
    She worked her way through the fruit in her bowl as Duane read his newspaper. She had never seen anyone take the news so seriously, or read it so carefully. For Sarah the news was a stream of