Chapter Two
Outside on the front porch, he could hear the steady rocking of the chair against the floor. It had slowed now, and he knew she was finally falling asleep. Every so often, the sound would die away as she dozed and then start up again abruptly as she tried to stay awake. He knew the nightmares would take over when she finally succumbed to the sleep that her body and mind craved. Hopefully, she would be able to get a few hours first. He sat perched on the edge of the swing seat, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him. He sat looking down at them, trying to come to terms with what was happening to her, trying to understand how she felt, but he knew he could never feel the loss and heartache like she was. Liquid blue eyes glazed with tears darted from his hands to the floor and back up before finally he slowly pulled himself upright as the sound of the rocking ceased. From his position, he could see over the smooth, hand-worn porch rail and down over the pasture. The sun was setting low over the mountains that encircled the lake, and the secluded valley was tinged in a subdued pink light. If she could find peace anywhere, it was here.
Taking in the inside of the cabin for the first time in so many years and drawing on the memories of summers spent there as a child, he walked quickly through the room, carefully pulling aged and yellowed dust sheets off the furniture, sending even more dust into the air. He sneezed violently and threw the dustsheets outside onto the porch, trying to keep them tightly closed. Hands now callused and hard swept over the antique oak furniture, the large dresser against the wall by the fireplace still holding onto its treasures of ornaments and curios that his grandmother had so lovingly collected. Opening the leaded glass door, he gently lifted out a tiny china bluebird and slowly rolled it over in his hands, smiling sadly to himself. He carefully replaced it in the void it had left in the accumulation of residues on the shelf. Walking through the kitchen, he had to struggle to open the back door, finally putting his shoulder to it. It grated across the outside back porch as it gave in and grudgingly opened. A huge pile of logs lay stacked under the shelter, and he collected enough to light the fire and the big old cast stove in the kitchen. He would have to clean it before he attempted to cook anything on it. The years of grime and deposits clung to the black iron like limpets turning the once gleaming range a dull shade of grey. The granite counter top rough hewn from the rock outside still sparkled through the build up of the years. Everywhere he looked, the dirt of ages had settled and made itself at home. He was glad he had picked up cleaning materials at the store back in town.
Opening the dampers, he carefully checked the chimney before lighting the fire. Thankfully, both chimneystacks were clear, and he realised they had been capped with cowls to prevent debris falling in at some point in the past. Piling the logs in the big open fireplace, he stoked the flames until they engulfed the old dry wood.
Somewhere deep in her clouded mind, she registered hands slipped carefully around her fragile body as she was tenderly lifted from the jeep. The words of love so sincerely whispered in her ear as she was borne carefully into the cabin spiralled in the fog that had descended in her mind. They tumbled and rolled with the emotions that had broken her once-carefree spirit. She could feel the warmth from the flames in a body turned cold from lack of sleep and nourishment. She felt the blanket wrapped with care around her after she had been placed in the rocking chair. Her mind struggled to overcome the pain, the guilt, and the soul-deep sense of loss. No one could understand how she felt. The guilt that she could not share ripped through her slowly, eating away at her from the inside.
She felt a head resting upon her knee, hands holding hers, as words spoken quietly in the stillness fought to soothe her. She felt fingers moving so slowly in circles on her hands, held firm within a strong grasp, the words so full of compassion and honesty falling freely from lips she could not see. And then they were gone, swept away deep into the recesses of her mind. Her eyes were heavy and bloodshot from lack of sleep, deep and sunken, with black shadows clinging to the undersides, red and swollen from tears that refused to fall.
The chair rocking rhythmically beneath her, lulling heavy eyelids to close. She fought hard to keep her eyes open, but the blackness of sleep closed around her as the warmth and motion dragged her into its cocoon. The weight lifted from her lap and her hands, were carefully tucked underneath the blanket. A shadow moved away and back through the open door, and she followed it through tired, sad eyes. She knew he was hurting; she knew he was as devastated as she. Yet, she couldn't fight it. The misery was soul-consuming, eating away at her. The pain she felt, the guilt, it was all her fault. She had caused it, and there was no way on this earth she could forgive herself.
Every so often, her mind fired with images of days past, reflections of emotions torn and thrown into the whirlwind that swirled around her consciousness. The tears had ceased to flow days ago, and the nightmares were getting worse. She didn't want to sleep. She couldn't face the images, the memories that would come when she did. Her heart had been torn viciously from her body; her soul clung to the remains of a now empty, desperate shell. Finally, the darkness spread slowly to the centre of her vision, and she slept.
He smoothed his hands down the front of his jeans as he stood. Pulling his jacket tightly around himself, he stepped forward and leaned on the rail, taking in the view before him. The trees by the lake suddenly caught his eye as the wind that avalanched down the mountainside and across the pasture stripped leaves like confetti. The chill on the wind made him shiver and brought with it the promise of an early winter. If the weather turned, they would be stuck here, cut off from civilisation, possibly for months. He shrugged the thought from his mind as the sun finally disappeared, and darkness spread its fingers across the valley basin behind him as he quietly entered the cabin. Closing the door softly so as not to disturb her, he walked on silent feet and knelt on the ancient stone slabs of the hearth, stoking the flames, encouraging them to consume the new log he so carefully placed on top of the dying embers.
Wanting to move her to the bed, where she would be more comfortable, he hesitated when she shifted as he attempted to lift her. She was sleeping peacefully for now, and loathe to disturb the sleep she so badly needed, he backed up. Letting her rest, he slowly moved away and sank into the lumpy cushions of the sofa, the covers worn and threadbare from the ravages of time. He pulled a throw over himself and curled up to sleep whilst she did.