Fourteen
What a miserable day.
Shane stood at the window nearest his woodstove and watched a particularly strong gust bend the pines and rattle the bare branches of the scrub willows and quaking aspen that lined Shale Creek just across the road from his cabin. The wind picked up the powdery snow that had fallen last night and drove it in obscuring plumes across the Northstar Valley. Miserable but harshly beautiful.
“All right,” Becky said, joining him. She tucked herself against his side, and without a thought to what he was doing, he draped his arm around her. “The first load is in the washer. How should we spend our time while I wait for it to finish?”
“We could stand here enjoying the cozy warmth of the fire while feeling sorry for your parents and Max and Chris for having to separa
