7

 

“Oh, God, please. Not again.” Creighton moaned in half prayer, half groan, and opened his eyes all the way. His hands were scarred, but not bloody. He wasn’t in his pickup!

Early morning sunlight peeked through the blinds of his bedroom.

“Thank you, Lord. It was only a bad dream.”

Why now? His unconscious mind hadn’t gone back there for a long time.

Then it hit him.

Shana.

He needed to remember who he was: an ex-drunk not good enough for someone like Shana. She was too good for him, even if she miraculously came to share his faith.

 

****

 

Shana leaned against the deck rail, cuddled again in Creighton’s sweatshirt, and warmed her hands on the coffee mug.

Valerie’s voice carried across the tranquil morning, singing a melody Shana couldn’t place.

A light misty fog hovered in low spots and in the distance. It was kind of eerie for the voice to be coming out of the grayness where neither breeze nor bird stirred.

Then the tune came to Shana, Beethoven’s Ninth. She hummed the final measures in her light soprano, hadn’t known there were lyrics.

When Valerie came into view, Shana waved and called out.

“Where were you and your lullaby last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Valerie lifted her walking stick in answer to Shana’s greeting and neared. “How’re you doing, sweetie?”

“I’m a bit down. Sleep evaded me again. Worked on ordering my chapters. It takes so much energy to not become angry over the injustice these patients endure. I kept trying to find solutions to prevent the kids at The Pines from the same fate as those in the rehab program at Hope Circle.” Shana shrugged her shoulders forward and back. “Even the night creatures were against my peace of mind. I’d settle down, totally relaxed, and then I’d hear a screech.”

“Sorry about that. I should loan you a hymnal. When I have troubled thoughts, the great songwriters of old help switch my heart attitude right around.” Valerie leaned against her stick. “You do sing, don’t you?”

“I have a passable voice. But I didn’t grow up going to church so I don’t know many hymns.”

Valerie’s shirt matched the gray sky this morning. She was dressed as usual in her long denim skirt and boots. The fringe of her bright orange scarf lifted in the sudden breeze.

Valerie smiled, “God’s breath is fanning my cheek.”

Shana didn’t answer.

Valerie climbed the steps up to the deck to lay an arm across Shana’s shoulders. “What’s wrong, Shana?”

“Maybe I’m just homesick.”

“Hello, the cabin.”

“We’re back here,” Shana called, and turned towards Creighton’s voice coming from the side.

When she saw him, her heart leapt in welcome, beating faster as he approached. He looked so good. Strong and capable and yummy.

But he shied away from getting close to her.

“Morning,” he said as he cleared the steps to the deck. “Rita called. Said she needs to let you know about some concerns at work.” He looked over Shana’s shoulder instead of into her eyes.

Had Valerie noticed his distance?

“Hey, Valerie. How’s it going?”

“It’s a fine morning, Creighton. You’re handsome as ever.”

“Thanks. It’s my lumberjack look instead of rancher.” He swiped a hand over the flannel that covered his chest. “Wanted a bit of color so I wouldn’t scare any critters in this fog.” He wore the bright red plaid well. His dark denim jeans looked new, and he appeared bulkier somehow, more breathtaking.

She blinked her eyes to clear her thoughts. Remember, he’s not interested.

Yet his gaze now linked with hers.

Did Creighton recall the elusive near-kiss and wonder as much about it as she did?

“I’ll let you two go about your day and I’ll be on my way,” Valerie’s voice broke into Shana’s contemplation. “I’m a little bogged down in the middle of my story today, but if you want to stop by later, please come see me.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably do that,” Shana automatically responded. She lifted her gaze back to Creighton. “I just need to call to see what Rita needs.” She turned to get her phone from inside the cabin.

Creighton hadn’t moved. He stood with his thumbs tucked in his back jeans pockets, gaze roaming over the land.

A moment later she huffed a shaky laugh. “I keep forgetting cells don’t work along the creek. Is it all right to call Rita from the house now?”

Looking off into the distance, Creighton answered, “No problem. Let’s do it.”

“Is she feeling all right, did she say?”

“Yep. Just a little tired.”

They didn’t speak for the first fifty yards. The edge of the windbreak came into view, and Creighton halted her steps by touching her elbow. She sent him a questioning glance while he slid his hand down her arm, all the while intent on a point ahead and to the left. He reached for her hand and without raising her arm, pointed her index finger at a doe and fawn.

Shana caught her breath.

The graceful duo was picture perfect.

Her shoulders relaxed over the peaceful sight. Creighton’s hand brushed back up her arm. She had never imagined a movement so slow. His touch awakened sensitive nerves. Shana felt the light weight of both his hands on her shoulders. The fire of his touch thrummed through the layers of her T-shirt, denim shirt, and his own sweatshirt under his hands.

She recognized the surreal moment as one painting its imprint on her mind. The very land and air pulsed with life through the enveloping mist. Her heightened senses whenever she was around Creighton fluttered through her veins.

A pesky mosquito and Shana’s resulting slap on her wrist intruded on the moment.

The doe lifted her nose and bounded away, the fawn leaping after.

Shana watched the white tails flash out of sight.

He removed his hands, and she experienced loss.

“Here.” Creighton lifted the hood up over her head and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. “We’d best get going or we’ll be eaten alive.”

They matched fast steps for the rest of the walk and were both a bit out of breath when they reached his house.

“You go ahead. I haven’t fed the cats down at the barn yet.”

Shana halted. “You have cats?”

“Only a couple. I keep them around to help with rodents.” Creighton nodded towards the barn. “They’re more on the wild side for that purpose so I only feed them a couple times a week when the weather is nice.”

“Guess I’ll see you later, then. Thanks for the message. And the use of your phone.” Shana kept Creighton in view until the fog swallowed him up, eerily alone after their interlude in the trees.

Phone in hand, Shana gazed out the window over the sink in Creighton’s home. She pictured Rita seated behind her desk at the youth center since the call was answered mid-ring.

“Hi, little mommy, how’re you doing?”

“Feeling bigger every day.” Rita laughed. “Are you doing OK? Is my brother treating you to his moods yet?”

“Oh, he’s treating me all right. I barely beat him in a hot game of Scrabble last night.”

“If I know Creigh, there will have to be a rematch,” Rita paused.

Shana let it go and asked, “So, how’s work?”

“Well, that’s why I wanted you to call. I don’t really know what’s going on. We’re down to seven kids in our program. One staff person on nights has found another job and one of our day staff has just given notice.”

“Is there talk about my absence? Do you think I need to come back now?” Shana folded her arm across her stomach and supported the elbow holding the weight of the phone.

“We assistant managers are doing all right with your tasks divided among us. We miss you, though. I know this sounds crazy, but one of the kids thought he saw you in the parking lot earlier.”

“Somebody conjured me up, huh?”

“Like I said, they miss you. Libby especially.” Rita’s voice turned serious, “I just wanted you to know things don’t feel the same around here without you.”

“Rita, I’ll rely on your judgment. I’m really just starting to relax enough to concentrate on my paper. But if you think I should return, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll put out some feelers and let you know of anything weird going on. Guess we can manage without you for a few more days.”

“OK, back to you, momma. What’s new with baby plans?”

“I have an ultrasound scheduled for next week, so hope to share a picture.”

The weight of the old cordless telephone surprised Shana when she lowered her free hand to rest over the flat space between her own hipbones.

“You plan to find out if it’s a he or a she?”

“Nope, just Baby Love for now.”

The friends shared a laugh. It was Shana’s turn to be serious. “I like your brother. I keep thinking I should give him something for letting me stay here.”

“You’re giving yourself, kiddo. I can tell he enjoys your company.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Just one more thing. If you need a change of clothes I have some things in my old room. I’m sure we’re the same size.”

“For a little while, anyway.” They shared another laugh.

Rita ended the call by asking her to extend sisterly love to Creighton.

Shana glanced around the large room and took a few steps closer to the sofa. She returned her hand to her hollow abdomen and looked down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Would a future baby someday be conceived in this home?

Would she ever know the joys of motherhood?

She found Rita’s room and took note of the offered clothing before heading outside, but decided to investigate the fit later. “Back to the world of finishing life as a student.”

She opened the door.

The fog had cleared.

Damp air surrounded her as well as birdsong. “I wish I felt like singing. What could be going on at work that we’ve lost half our clients?” And good staff, she thought as she walked.

In her cabin, Shana looked over her notes and clarified a few sentences. But her mind wasn’t on the task, so she grabbed a bottle of water and went down the back deck steps. The day had turned humid and warmer. At the base of an ash tree, she grabbed a thick tapered walking stick for balance for when the contours of the land changed.

Shana strode onward, lost in the calm beauty of her surroundings. How much of the scenery belonged to Creighton?

A dove cooed. The breeze caressed her cheek. A hawk soared low, its wing tips curled. Once she had left the cabin, man intruded. The sky wasn’t blue enough to trace the contrail, but she heard the thunder of the distant jet engines. She had heard people who loved the land refer to it as “God’s country.” Was this God’s country?

Creighton and Valerie would say so.

Shana walked for an hour, her thoughts circling often to Creighton. Did he long for a female companion? Were his books and poems enough to warm him during bitter Nebraska winters? His touch had been that of a friend when they stood and watched the deer. Her heart whispered, He’s more than a friend. How had he thought of her in those moments?

Near her cabin, she capped the bottle and searched for a narrow spot to cross the creek.

Creighton hailed her, “Did you enjoy your walk?”

Why hadn’t she jumped when she heard his voice? Because he belonged to this land? Or because he belonged in her thoughts?

“You ran down that hill so fast I thought you might go into a somersault.” He looked wonderful.

She had the urge to jump into his arms, but giggled instead. “It felt really good. I think this place is growing on me.”

“I headed your way because I wanted to make sure everything was OK after you talked to Rita.” He sobered, and looked deep into her eyes. “Do you need a ride back to Lincoln?”

Those skittering feelings raced through Shana again, until she had to look away from his penetrating hazel eyes. “Thanks for the offer, Creighton. Rita’s concerned about some things that are happening at work, but she said they can handle it without me for now.”

Shana brought her gaze back to his. “She sends her love.”

The word hovered in the air before he responded with a simple, “Thanks.”

“I’m starving. Have you had lunch?”

He burst out laughing. “You’re healing, woman. If you’re hungry, not all is wrong with your world.”

He reached out and his fingers encircled the back of her neck in a gentle, playful manner. Their eyes locked. She remembered the night before and again thought of his kiss. Correction. The kiss that almost was.

She zeroed in on his mouth. The expanse around her ceased to exist. Her world was filled with Creighton.

 

****

 

Who am I kidding? Here I thought I could treat her like a kid sister, or my kid sister’s friend. Not going to happen.

Creighton’s contemplation of Shana continued while he fought to make his hands behave. When she was near, his hands had a mind of their own. At the touch of his fingers to her softness, it took all of his self-control not to pull her close.

“We’re going to have to talk about this, Creighton.” Her voice came from a long way off.

“Huh?”

She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Shana was warm from her sprint down the hill. Could she feel his rapid pulse?

“This.” Her breath came out as a whisper. “Creighton. Is it possible to be only friends?”

Had she read his mind? He drew back his hand, and his fingers brushed hers as they passed. A movement near the buildings caught his attention.

His friend’s pickup.

Relief flashed through him at the reprieve. “I just remembered something I need to talk to Rog about.” He shot her a brief glance. “We probably should talk. Later.”

He all but ran in his haste to get away from her.

“Hey, bud, what’s your hurry?” Roger Wells asked as Creighton approached.

“Figured you might need some help. Haven’t talked to you for a few days.”

Roger nodded at Shana rooted in the same spot Creighton had left her. He slid Creighton a lopsided grin. “I imagine you’ve been a little preoccupied. She’s quite a looker, in a lost-little-girl sort of way.”

A zing of irritation zipped through Creighton at the prospect that a younger Roger could make him jealous. Whoa.

“Bet she’s a lot more woman than she looks—”

Creighton cut off his friend. “She’s got a truck load of business—getting a degree and keeping her job.” He looked back. Shana was now out of sight. “She doesn’t need a man butting into her life on top of it.”

“I’m just a recycled teenager myself, you know.” Roger let loose with his gravelly laugh before he finished. “Can’t help but notice such a good-lookin’ filly.”

“There is more to Shana than her looks, Rog. She’s stressed. She’s probably in financial trouble. And that raises my protective instincts. She means a lot to Rita and you know how I love Rita. Shana’s a savvy career woman. A city woman. I doubt she even owns a pair of jeans.” He stared off into the distance.

“You’re sold on her all right.” Roger took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh before he returned the dusty protection to his head.

Creighton lowered his eyes and watched the tail end of a striped ground squirrel disappear in the dirt. Then in frustration, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “That’s why it won’t work. She’ll go back to her job in Lincoln. And the big difference between us, she doesn’t believe in God. According to the Bible, I can’t get mixed up with her.”

Roger pushed up the bill of his sweat-stained hat, scratched his hairline, set the hat back in place, and studied Creighton from beneath the rim. “I’m not book educated, but I’d say you’re already mixed up with her.”

That’s the truth.

“But what do I have to give her? There’s always the possibility that I’ll end up a mean old drunk like my old man. I don’t have a steady income. I’m moody.”

“Aw shucks, I just realized I forgot my violin,” Roger interrupted with a mime to go along with his words. “OK, I agree that you’re moody. But I would imagine that she can make you laugh. You kept up your real estate license, right?”

Creighton nodded.

“There you go. You have a resource if you need to make money. Put that faith of yours into practice and go with the flow. Be honest with yourself. Do you think it’s a mistake that she’s here on the ranch?” The more he talked, the rougher Roger’s voice rasped.

“You’ve given me something to think about, pal. Now I better take it all to the Lord.” Creighton rubbed the back of his neck, feigned a punch at Roger. “Mind if I ride along with you for a while?”

“Glad to have the company. Just don’t ruin my tunes by singing along.” Roger spoke the last five words as notes to an unnamed song.

“If you’d ever get with the program and play country tunes, I’d know ‘em all so I wouldn’t spoil your precious rock ‘n roll,” Creighton jibed.

He pushed Shana to the back of his mind, with the certainty she would stay in his thoughts much longer than she’d be on the ranch.