Creighton's Hideaway Read Online Free PDF Page A

sun feels hot, yet there’s a hint of briskness when the wind picks up. It’s invigorating, isn’t it?” Shana held out a mug that sported a painted rooster, filled to the brim.
    Creighton faced his land once more. “I enjoy all the seasons and never seem to get tired of the weather. You know Nebraska. The skies can change as fast as the wind blows, or drop fifty degrees in a few hours.”
    “Brrrr.” Shana rubbed her arms and laughed. “Come on, I want to enjoy fall. I don’t want to think about cold temperatures yet!”
    “Sorry. Guess I’m in one of my moods.”
    “Listen to me talk about the weather when I have to get working so I can earn that degree.”
    He downed the remaining half of his coffee in one gulp and set it on the corner bench. “I’ll take that list now.”
    Shana reached for the list in her pants pocket and handed it to him. The folded paper went into his shirt and felt warm against his heart. He chose not to think about that warmth he didn’t deserve, and went on his way.
     
    ****
     
    Clouds scudded across the face of the sun as though Creighton’s mood had brought on the gathering gray.
    Shana again rubbed her arms. She turned and went inside. She took one last sip at the sink and decided the cold coffee now tasted bitter. Dumping the remains down the drain, she wiped a bit of soap over the mugs, letting her mind go blank.
    Time slipped away. Later, she sat at the small table, trying to eat a bite of lunch and make sense of the outline on her laptop screen. She had the assignment mostly written, but the order needed help. Shana shook her head, coming out of her daze, and looked at the microwave clock. Another whole hour had disappeared. She recalled how the hours of the previous night had taken forever to pass.
    Scanning the cozy room, she reminded herself to do something active. She skimmed over her notes. When she lifted her eyes, she noticed several Nebraska magazines in a wicker basket next to the dresser. She grabbed the whole pile and wiggled into a corner of the couch. Photographs of the great outdoors with all its flora and fauna soon blurred. Her eyes drifted shut.
    “Hello, the cabin.”
    Shana jolted upright and yawned.
    Footsteps sounded, followed by a knock on the door.
    “Coming.” She untangled her legs from a cushion and on unsteady legs, squinted at the mound of research notes on the table.
    Creighton carried in two plastic sacks and set them on the counter. “According to your grocery list, you don’t eat much.”
    Shana yawned again and looked at the clock. Two more hours had disappeared. “Sorry.” She shook her head and turned to him. “I guess I fell asleep.”
    “I’m the one who should apologize. Sometimes I think too much and it turns me surly. To make amends, I’ll fix you a Reuben sandwich. Call it early evening sustenance. No arguments.” He busied himself with the bags.
    “OK.” Flustered, Shana folded her arms. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She shut the door to the small bathroom and groaned at herself in the mirror. A deep crease streaked across the left side of her face. Shana bent and splashed cold water over her eyes and rubbed her cheeks. She blinked, opened her eyes wide, and shook her head.
    Surly? That was a good term for how Creighton had acted earlier.
    She ran a comb through her short curls. Maybe she’d add some highlights once she got back home. In the meantime, what was that niggling sense something was happening she needed to know about? She glided back into the kitchen area, where containers of pungent sweet sauerkraut and fresh corned beef sat open on the counter. “I think I’m awake now. Mmm. That smells great.”
    Creighton glanced away from the toaster and over his shoulder. “I mistakenly put the Swiss in the fridge, could you get it, please? And here’s the Thousand Island dressing to spread on the rye bread toast.” He handed her the bottle, and then reached into the cupboard for two plates. He crossed to the