Timberline Trail Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the cabin had dropped and Tia performed the almost unconscious duties of preparing the cabin for winter as she secured the windows, cranked up the stove, and started fires in both fireplaces.
    A pot of hot soup with fresh -baked oatmeal bread sounded mighty tempting, so Tia strolled into the compact kitchen and began to prepare the dough for her priceless bread maker which had been a present from her father three years earlier. While it kneaded the white batter, she began chopping vegetables, wiping emotionless tears from her eyes as she skinned and diced an onion. An already cooked and de-boned chicken joined the boiling soup mixture and Tia leaned over and tasted the warm concoction, adding some extra seasoning salt to the broth. Within an hour the simmering soup would be ready. She punched in the baking time on the bread maker, almost tasting the delicious-flavored bread she and Mary had polished off yesterday during their tea break.
    Tia returned to her computer and sat in front of the humming screen trying to concentrate, but event ually was distracted by the first flakes of drifting snow. Winter had arrived early this year and Tia allowed herself the pleasure of watching the big soft flakes fall silently to the ground for a full five minutes before returning to work. It snowed steadily over the next two hours and by the time Tia finished her steaming bowl of soup and slice of freshly baked bread slathered with creamy butter she noted the snow already rose half-way up to the window sill. At this rate she’d most likely be snowed in by dark. Thank goodness she hadn’t made that futile trip into Timberline to ogle at some complete stranger! Nearly an hour later, while she mused before her computer in the fading light, a knock sounded at her door, startling her from her preoccupation with the fate of the little Inuit boy.
    Tia moved to the small entryway and waited until the knock resounded again. The brisk, desperate tapping made her cautiously open the heavy outer door to peer into the swirling snow. A large handsome blonde
    man in a thin jacket stood hesitantly in the dim light. He carried a small blue backpack and his cheeks were pinched with cold. He’d raised a hand to once again knock and peered at her in half-embarrassment.
    “I’m so sorry to bother you miss,” he said aw kwardly, “but you see, my 4x4 died up on the road there and when I saw the smoke from your chimney I decided your cabin looked a lot warmer than the cold interior of my car.”
    “Come in, come in,” urged Tia, shivering herself at the brisk wind. She stuck out her hand, which the large man took in a firm grasp though his fingers were ice cold. “My name’s Tia Heath.”
    “And mine’s Steve Newcastle,” he responded. “I’m afraid I must be considered a rank city -slicker who was totally unprepared for inclement weather and got caught without any snow gear. I’m scouting around for some property to purchase and was directed this way by the realtor, Mrs. Carlson. She warned me about an impending storm and when those big storm clouds closed in I knew I was in big trouble. I thought I could sit it out in my rented Kia but the cold didn’t cooperate; so here I stand, frozen and in need of assistance. I’m so sorry to bother you.”
    Helping another person in need was second nature to Tia. “It’s no problem really. Please come inside where it’s warm.”
    Steve set his backpack down upon the bench with a thud and followed her into the warm interior of the cabin. The cold traveler gave a long sigh of relief and rubbed his hands together before hurrying to the crackling fireplace as if it personally beckoned to him. Tia smiled, watching him shiver as he rubbed his arms and legs trying to gain warm relief from the dancing flames. Finally he turned and smiled, his lips appearing less pinched.
    “Would you happen to have a phone? I’m staying at the Timberline Lodge and if I don’t make it back they’ll probably send out a