In Your Embrace Read Online Free PDF

a few feet of honey oak hardwood planks exposed.  The light has faded in its brilliance since she came inside.  Looking beyond the railings of the balcony she frowns at the darkening skyline.
    Closing her eyes, Hannah clasps her hands before her.   God, from the looks of that sky, this storm is going to be pretty nasty.  Please watch over us.
    This simple heartfelt prayer brings a smile to Hannah’s lips once more, her nerves calmed for the moment.  Her gaze falls upon the rickety boards forming the decking of the balcony beyond the French doors.  The railing quivers in the gusts.  It is missing several of its spindles.  The faded blue shutters at her bedroom window rap loudly against the siding.   It won’t take much to tear this place apart , she adds.
    Over the past few days, Hannah has yet to figure out exactly what color the wood shake siding was intended to be.  It offers a plethora of beiges, browns and even some varying shades of blues.  Obviously the previous owner’s attempts to renovate this home failed miserably.
    Be grateful you have a working toilet , Hannah scolds herself and draws away from the window.  Though her aunt and uncle were assured that all of the plumbing in this home was up to code, Hannah has her doubt as to how long it will last.  It clanks and groans in the walls and floors.
    Twisting her hair up into a ponytail, Hannah grabs a hammer and nails and sets about nailing down the shutters.  Once that is done and peace has been restored, she works to board up the remainder of the windows in the rooms on this floor.  Andrew did the lower floors by himself this morning while Hannah and Claire worked on storing all of the patio furniture in the storage unit beneath the house. No doubt it will flood when the waves rise, but hopefully the lock will hold.
    It takes her nearly an hour to complete her task.  When she is done, her arms and shoulders ache, making her wish for a working bathtub, but she won’t complain.
    Tugging a thick velvet curtain across the final hallway window, Hannah turns her attention to stuffing blankets and pillows along the bottom of exterior door frames on this floor.  “If the waves reach this high it won’t really matter anyway,” she muses, dusting her hands on her capris pants.
    After grabbing a drink and a small snack, Hannah heads back up to her room. With nothing else to do but wait for Claire to return, she sinks onto the edge of her bed to rest.  She sweeps her gaze to take in the furnishings of her room.
    In the far corner stands a rocking chair older than she is, its leg notched from use.  A daisy patterned quilt adorns the bed, a pattern she remembers seeing her mother work on when she was younger.  An old wooden chest, smelling strongly of mothballs, sits against the footboard.
    The closet is the best feature of the room.  Its double doors open to a spacious walk-in room that offers row after row of shelves and hanging space.  It is a dream closet for most people, but Hannah doesn’t really need all of that space.  Her sparse wardrobe barely covers half of one row.
    She hears the door open and shut below and chuckles at the muttered complaints of Andrew as he blows inside.  She flings open the door and calls down the stairs, “Do you need any help with dinner, Aunt Claire?”
    Her aunt’s windblown head appears at the bottom of the spiral.  “You know I never refuse help in the kitchen, but tonight our feast is being presented by Chef Andrew.”
    Hannah grins as Claire calls up the stairs to be ready for dinner in half an hour.  Chef Andrew has one and only one specialty: spaghetti.  He sure knows how to make a mean meatball.
    Hopping in the shower, Hannah scrubs away sand and sweat that somehow has reached places she could never have imagined.  Wrapped in an oversized towel, she wipes her hand across the fogged mirror and stares at the brown halo of frizzy hair about her forehead.
    “Yikes!  That’s a sight to see.”  With