Poles Apart by Marion Ueckermann Read Free Book Online Page B

tipped his head and started down
the steps, stopping at the sound of her voice.
    “Where would I find the Wi-Fi password? It does work out here, doesn’t it?”
    “Yes, it works. It’s on the door inside
the first cupboard in the kitchen.”
    “Thank you.” She stepped inside,
venturing a last lingering look over her shoulder. “Have a nice day.”
    He nodded and made his way back to the
snowmobile, the sled behind carrying but a handful of logs. How had she not
heard him arrive?
    As she eased the door closed, Sarah
watched Niklas drive away. The snow swallowed the sound of the engine. Closing
the door, she moved toward the couch and sank into it, only her confused
thoughts for company. She unzipped her boots and tossed them toward the front
door. There was no denying how hot Niklas looked riding that mean black
machine.
    Sarah padded toward the kitchen in her
sub-zero socks, stopping at the table to turn on her laptop. She checked the
time. Almost midday? How was that possible? It had only begun to get light
outside. A screen popped up with the Wi-Fi connection. Only one
available. Toivonen. She clicked connect and another pop-up requested the
password.
    Inside the kitchen, Sarah opened the
first cupboard. Cups and glasses glistened their greeting. There on the door,
just as Niklas said, was her access to cyberspace. Joulupukki. Figures. Doubt the password in Bethlehem hotels would be ‘Jesus’ though.
    She glanced toward the sauna door. She
should take a shower and change her clothes before starting to write. And have
breakfast and coffee. Shower first.
    Stepping forward, Sarah opened the sauna
door and turned on the faucet. The water should be warm by the time she chose
clean clothes.
    Her stomach growled, protesting the idea
of her exiting the kitchen. Food first, perhaps. Her eyes darted to where
Niklas had dropped the packets last night. The corner was empty. Where had her
groceries disappeared to? She opened the fridge. The cold foodstuff was neatly
stacked inside. She moved to the cupboard beside the fridge and took a peek.
Staring at the chocolate slabs stacked in a neat pile—her milestone treats—she
cringed. What had Niklas thought as he unpacked these last night? One
consolation, those slabs only added words—nothing else. Her muse thrived on
being rewarded. Although, in these puffy pants, Niklas wouldn’t know it made no
difference to her waistline.
    Why did she care what he thought?
    On the top shelf stood the cereal box,
bread, a few tins of instant soup, tea and coffee. Hmm, coffee... She could do
with a shot of caffeine to kick-start the day.
    After filling the coffee machine, Sarah
turned it on. Once brewed, that jug should last the day, especially as she
planned to limit her intake.
    A bowl of milk and cereal in her hands,
she turned back to the sauna. Couldn’t risk running all the hot water out. She
opened the door, expecting steam to billow out. Nothing. Sarah ventured a hand
under the water. Cold. Why wasn’t there hot water? She glanced at the stove in
the corner with its tap on the side of the metal drum, rocks for heating
stacked on the top. She would need help to figure out how that worked, or brave
an icy shower.
    So much for avoiding the landlord.
     

     
    She’d brushed him off politely. Pity.
Niklas would’ve loved to sit down to a cup of hot coffee and a chat before
heading to the village. Isä still wasn’t well and would need his help a
few more days. Good. Not that he wanted his father ill, but hopefully Miss
Jones would call during the time he still filled Santa’s shoes. If he could
turn their next conversation from Santa Claus to Sarah Jones, maybe he’d get an
insight into why God caused their paths to cross.
    Who was he kidding? As interested as he
was in understanding what God was up to, he wanted to spend time with her—even
if it meant being dressed in red and disguised in a white beard.
    Niklas parked the snowmobile at the side
of his house and strolled across