Creighton's Hideaway Read Online Free PDF Page B

corner of his ranch house.
    Since the north deck faced the road and not much else, she made a complete circle and sauntered down the steps on the creek side of the cabin. She settled against the trunk of the cottonwood, leaned back, and closed her eyes.
    Ripe, earthy scents and clear sounds filled her senses. She quieted her thoughts, opened her book, and began to read. The steps of grief were so familiar she had often recited them to her staff. She had grieved right along with two of the patients over the loss of their parents.
    Shock. Anger. Depression. Bargaining. Acceptance. Recovery.
    How was she going to tie the testimony notes she’d taken at Hope Circle and their ongoing recovery to the lives of her young clients in Lincoln? And attempt to help prevent the youth she had contact with from lives of loss and addiction?
    She shook her head, switching her train of thoughts in a new direction. Shana smiled at how sweet her parents were. They had taught her to focus on the positive and kept her sheltered.
    Sometimes too sheltered.
    Her father’s retirement income wasn’t that great since he had invested in some bad stock. Health insurance premiums for her parents left little to live on. At least the small house on Doane Street between the university campuses was paid for. Since her mother had been a homemaker all of Shana’s life, her parents needed their assets for the proverbial rainy day of possible bad health or long-term care.
    She needed her Master of Arts degree so they wouldn’t worry about her future, and she could help secure theirs.
    Time passed. The lush colors of sunset painted the sky in varied pastels. Shana let herself relax for the first time since her arrival. The landscape turned into gradational shades of gray. She lumbered to her feet. Singing crickets and cicadas escorted her inside the cabin.
    She switched on the light and familiarized herself with the contents of every cupboard, drawer, and pantry shelf. Judging by all the supplies Creighton had brought in addition to her list, he wanted her to eat like a cowboy who herded cattle all day. She decided on a can of clam chowder and a slice of dill rye bread, alternating bites with yawns.
    As the food digested, she tried in vain to repress swirling feelings where Creighton was concerned. He bothered her and had shaken her comfortable world as much as the ugly family tales of youth she’d come across.
    She became drowsy, and remembered she’d forgotten to call her parents.
     
     
     
     

4
     
    Shana’s heart leaped into her throat when she heard the same eerie sound that had shrieked through the air the previous night. What in the world was it? Bird, or beast? She longed for daylight, for city sounds. For signs of other humans.
    She tossed back the light blanket. It was a much warmer night than the one before, even on the muggy side. She stomped over to the door and flicked on the light.
    “I can’t handle another sleepless night, folks.” The words hung in the air.
    A footfall on the bottom porch step upped the thundering of her heart.
    “Shana?” At the sound of Creighton’s voice, she unbarred the door.
    “Hi. I was out walking and your light came on. Everything OK?”
    “Fine. I was in a sound sleep and some creature woke me a few minutes ago. Scared me to death.” She rubbed her arms with memory of the mournful wail.
    “Screech owl. That’s how they scare their prey.”
    “A simple ‘ who-o-o’ won’t do?” They both laughed at her poor owl imitation. She stepped aside so he could enter the cabin. “Want some juice or anything?” she offered.
    “Sure, if you’re going to be up for a while.”
    “I have to, or I won’t be able to sleep later. I need to get these fingers tapping on the keyboard.” She filled two glasses with cranberry juice, thankful that she wore an oversized football jersey and long flannel pants.
    They crossed the room to sit in opposite corners of the couch.
    “What do you do at night, Creighton,