Breathe Again

Chapter 8

Dottie sat on a red plaid blanket, her son Elliot laid on his back in front of her. Her hair hung down her back against the black brocade of her bodice in a loose French braid.

The stark color of her gown brought out the peaches and cream of her fair complexion and heightened the hazel color of her eyes.

When she first came outside an hour ago, she strategically placed the blanket in the shade to allow her to watch the men working on the construction of their new home.

Not two minutes after sitting, she found herself disregarding the whisper flitting through her mind that she searched among the workers for one man in particular.

She'd only seen him in the shadows over the past few weeks, observing them and monitoring the builders progress. But Sterling still hadn't shown up today.

Dottie would deny it if anyone ever asked, but Sterling's very presence, even from the shadows, brought her comfort. Regardless of how hard she tried to forget him over the past six years, her heart still pounded with delight at the mere sight of him. She ached to be near him once again, as she had been before everything changed.

All she needed was some sign from him that they could be friends once more. But, Sterling kept himself at a distance from her, as though he feared she would taint the air he breathed if he stood too close.

Dottie clenched her eyes shut and sighed. If only she hadn't spoken the words that had ultimately ended their friendship all those years ago, perhaps their lives would be different now.

Elliot gurgled, drawing her attention. He smiled at her from the blanket, snapping her out of her troubling thoughts. Grinning in return, she tickled him until his giggle erupted, then laughed and scooped him up in her arms, and looked once more to the men working on the new home.

Sterling still hadn't arrived.

Dottie took a deep calming breath and tasted a faint tinge of burning wood on her tongue.

Some days she swore she could still smell lingering smoke in the area, making it seem like she was living in a campfire. No doubt, it would remain for several more months, a constant reminder of how close they had come to death.

Many nights she awoke, drenched in sweat, with images of that day flashing through her mind. Only after watching Elliot sleep could she find any measure of peace and force herself to try sleeping once again.

All the nightmares ended the same. A figure of a man emerged from the smoke and shadows and delivered her and Elliot to safety, then disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared to rescue them.

The fire and its lingering reminders she could deal with, not knowing who the man was, or if he was just a figment of her imagination—those were the thoughts that filled her with unease.

And yet someone had saved them. Dottie had tried to escape and burned the palms of her hands in the process.

After all her efforts at escaping had proved futile, she'd mournfully accepted their fate and cried. One moment she'd felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, hoping their deaths would be quick; and the next, they were outside a safe distance from the fire and gasping in clean air, with absolutely no idea who had rescued them.

Her mother was little help in discovering the answers to her questions. She claimed whomever it was had his face covered in protection and that after taking them to safety had joined the ranks of the bucket brigade. But, Dottie knew her mother hid far more than what she told.

The echo of hammers against wood mingled with birds singing from the trees at her back, oddly soothing her in their happy rhythm. With a startle, she realized she was once again scanning the men, searching for the face she most wanted to see.