Reason to Breathe

by Deborah Raney

  Apparently oblivious to his thoughts, she threw him that wry smile again and held up the keys. “You ready?”

  “I am. And I’d probably better get going if I’m going to make the open house before it’s over.”

  They walked side by side across to the cottage, the rain falling a little harder now.

  “Would you mind giving me a call and letting me know how it went?”

  “Sure. I’d be glad to.”

  At the porch, he stopped. “I guess I don’t have anything inside. I’ll just go from here.”

  “Do you want a towel to dry off? You look like a drowned rat.”

  “As do you.” He grinned. “But no, I’m fine. I’ll give you a call.” He turned to leave, wishing he hadn’t promised Turner about the open house.

  “Oh, wait! Pizza! You need to take some of this home.” She ran back into the house and returned with a pizza box.

  “You’re sure? I don’t want the Chandler girls mad at me.”

  “Hey, you snooze, you lose. They know the rules. Besides, there’s plenty for everybody. I told you that’s why we get extra.”

  “Right. Leftovers.” He gave a little salute and took the box from her. “Good policy. I’ll have to remember that.” He risked touching her arm briefly. “Thanks for coming to church with me. And for lunch. I really enjoyed the day.”

  “I did too, Quinn.” Something about the way she spoke his name made him feel as if he might have finally gotten through to her. Or maybe it was only wishful thinking.

  “I’ll call.”

  “Bye.” She stood on the porch, arms crossed.

  He waved and jogged to his SUV.

  He backed around, then headed down the lane, watching her in his rearview mirror. She was still standing there on the porch when he rounded the curve and the cottages disappeared in the trees.

  It was a sight he could get used to. And it was a sight he wouldn’t mind coming home to each night.

  Phee went inside and changed into dry clothes. Her phone was vibrating on the coffee table when she returned to the living room.

  She grabbed it, cringing when she saw half a dozen texts and voicemail messages in her notifications. She tapped Accept. “Britt? Hey, what’s up?”

  “Finally! Didn’t you get our messages?” Britt couldn’t veil the frustration in her voice. “We’ve been calling you for two hours. Both of us!”

  “Sorry. I must’ve forgotten to turn my ringer back on after church. Where are you guys? Is everything okay?”

  “We’re at Jo’s apartment. Are you back at the cottage?”

  “Yes. Quinn just left a little bit ago to go to the open house. We’ve got a leak in one of the cabins, but he helped me take care of it.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “Nothing a gallon pail can’t handle for now, but Quinn is going to have Langhorne get started on the roofs of the cabins as soon as it quits raining.”

  “Yeah, I guess we need to.” Britt sounded distracted. “Hey, listen, do you mind staying there tonight?”

  “By myself? Why?”

  “Joanna wants me to help her pack up the rest of her apartment. She may be able to get out of her lease early if she can get moved out in time.”

  “Sure. I guess that’s okay.” Dread inched its way up her spine. She would have to brave the cabin in the dark, by herself, to empty the ice-cream pail before she went to bed. She and Quinn hadn’t actually seen any mice there a few minutes ago, and it wasn’t as if she was a total wuss. But she was already dreading it. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. Jo has to work early tomorrow, but I’ll be home before you leave for work. I thought I’d paint the ceiling in my bedroom tomorrow while you guys are at work.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. You haven’t heard anything about the open house, have you?”

  “No. We drove by there about three thirty and there were only a couple of cars in front of the house. But other than that, I don’t know anything. I figure that’s Dad’s problem.”

  Quinn’s number appeared on the screen. “Okay, Britt. Gotta run. I’ll see you in the morning.” She didn’t wait for a reply, but clicked off, then quickly answered Quinn’s call. “Hey, thanks for getting back to me.”

  “Well, I wish I had better news for you.”

  “Uh-oh. It didn’t go well?”

  “The agent didn’t think so. I guess only seven people signed the register, and he seemed to think they were all looky-loos.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Looky-loo? You’ve never heard of a looky-loo?”

  “Not old enough, I guess. Must be one of those terms you elderly people use.”

  “Would you cut that out? I was just quoting the agent. And besides, this guy was younger than me.”

  “That’s actually not saying a lot.”

  “Watch it!” But he was laughing.

  She had no idea what had gotten into her, but she was teasing … flirting. And she liked that she’d made him laugh. He had a nice laugh.

  A few minutes later, after they’d hung up, she walked past the mirror over the fireplace and was surprised to catch her own smile in the reflection.

  She was still smiling when she went to bed that night. She’d survived the trip to the cabin in the dark, and the pail had collected only about three inches of water, so it would easily last until morning.

  Tucked in the comfy daybed in her cozy room, with the doors locked and double-checked and a few small lamps lit throughout the house, Phee replayed the memories of her day with Quinn. Those memories helped her ignore the rain that pelted the roof of the cottage and the gusts of wind that dashed branches against her windows. She and her sisters were starting to grow used to the litany of groans and creaks the cottage produced, but the downpour outside—and being alone in the house—magnified every squeak and tap.

  For the first time, she had more sympathy for Britt’s seemingly unreasonable fears. She’d never been afraid in her apartment, because she knew she was surrounded by people who would hear her cries if she was in trouble. And she thought she would feel the same when the day came that her sisters—or even complete strangers—were sleeping in the cabins across the lane.

  Curled up on the end of her bed, Melvin snored as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Phee rolled onto her back, watching rainwater run down the window panes. When the clock on her nightstand flipped to midnight, she yawned, finally growing drowsy.

  Chapter 24

  Phee sat straight up in bed, wide awake as a second crack of lightning hit. Melvin yowled and scampered beneath the daybed. Heart pounding, she threw off the covers and went to the window to see if the lightning had hit something. The rain fell in sheets and it sounded as if the lightning and thunder were hitting simultaneously. The storm must be right on top of them.

  It was almost six a.m., but the sky was pitch black outside. She could hear the wind blowing through the trees, though it must have died down a little because the branches were no longer thrashing at her bedroom windows.

  She went to the covered porch and peered into the darkness. What if the rain, now that it was coming down this hard, had overflowed the bucket at the cabin? She didn’t dare go out with lightning hitting so close, but if it let up at all, she would make a run for it.

  She flipped on some lights and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Twenty minutes later, the rain showed no signs of letting up, but then, lightning hadn’t struck for several minutes either. She decided to risk it. Better than waiting and discovering the cabin was flooded and the beautiful wood floors ruined. If they were going to spend most of their budget on new roofs, they couldn’t be replacing the floors too.

  She put on a jacket over her pajamas and went to the porch, where she slipped into her muddy tennis shoes from last night. She waited a few minutes, watching the inky sky, hoping the rain would let up. When it didn’t, she made a mad dash across the lane to the leaky cabin.

  The water had only filled the bucket about half
way. Definitely more than last time she’d checked but not alarming. She turned off the lights and went to the kitchen windows that looked out over the little walled-in yard. She could hear water trickling behind the house, but it was hard to tell if it was just running off the gutters or if the creek now had enough water in it to flow. That seemed impossible considering the dry gully it had been only a couple of days earlier.

  Thunder rumbled low, sounding farther away than before, so when the crack of lightning came a few seconds later, she gasped. At first she didn’t believe what she was seeing, but another flash of lightning left no doubt. The water was mere feet—maybe inches—from the stone walls. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her, but it looked as if the water was flowing, even lapping at the foot of the walls by the other cabin. She squinted into the darkness, waiting for another flash of lightning, terrified of what it might reveal.

  The rain had let up a little, and as she jogged back toward the cottage, she punched Dad’s number into her phone. Thankfully it was seven a.m. in Florida.

  “Hey, early bird. What are you doing up at this hour?”

  “I think we’ve got trouble, Dad. I don’t know what you can do from Florida, but I didn’t know what else to do!” Her voice rose an octave and she slowed her steps, panting and trying to catch her breath.

  “Calm down, honey. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m at the cottages and the water is rising fast. It’s almost—”

  “Water? Where are you?”

  “At our property. That creek that was dry when we bought the place is filling up fast. And … it’s too dark to tell for sure, but it looks like the water is about to reach the walls! You know … those stone walls around the smaller cabins?” She’d forgotten he’d only seen the place once and likely didn’t remember the lay of the land. She strained to look between the two cabins, but it was still too dark to see anything.

  “You’re not in harm’s way, are you? Right now?”

  “No, I’m walking back to the cottage where we’re all living. Until we get the cabins ready. The water isn’t anywhere near our cottage, but if it gets any higher, the two smaller cabins will flood for sure. What do we do, Dad?”

  “Okay, listen, can you tell where the water’s coming from? Is it just rainwater, or is it coming from upstream?”

  “It’s too dark to tell. I wouldn’t have even seen it if a flash of lightning hadn’t come just when I looked out.”

  “Well, thank the good Lord for that! You just keep an eye on the water level and get out of there if it looks like you’re in trouble. Do you need to move your cars to higher ground? Where are your sisters?”

  “They stayed in town last night. At Jo’s place.”

  “What? You’re there by yourself?”

  “I’m a big girl, Dad. And my car is fine. The water’s not anywhere near where we park.”

  “Okay. Just so you’re safe. I’m going to make some calls and get some help out there. Is there other flooding around you? Have you seen anything on the news?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t listened to the news. But it’s been raining all night—and most of yesterday. I didn’t see any flood warnings though. Oh, Dad, if we lose the cabins, everything we invested … Mom’s inheritance will be totally wasted.”

  “Don’t even go there, Phee. You’re not going to lose the cabins. And you’re sure not going to lose the property.” He paused, waiting. “Now, you listen … I’m sending help, but meanwhile, you be careful. Don’t you go near the water. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  She inhaled deeply, then blew her breath out in a steady stream. He needed to hear strength in her voice. “Okay, Dad. Thanks.”

  “And while you’re waiting, pray!”

  “Don’t worry, I already am. This is freaking me out!” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  “Just stay calm … Phee? Are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I’m fine.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I can. You keep your phone close.”

  “I will. Thanks, Dad.” She hung up, surprised at the rush of feelings that came over her. The old, familiar assurance of utter safety. And the childlike faith that her dad would take care of her. How she’d missed that security. And her dad.

  She ran the rest of the way to the cottage, slipped her shoes off on the porch, and once inside, dialed Joanna.

  “What time is it?” Her sister’s voice was croaky with sleep.

  “I’m not sure. About six thirty, I think, but you guys have got to get out here!”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” She sounded wide awake now.

  “You need to come. The water is rising, and it’s already almost up by the stone walls at the cabins.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure!” She gave a little growl. “Dad said he’d send some help out here. I don’t know what can be done at this point … maybe sandbag it?”

  “It seems like it’s too late for that. You’re not in the cabin, are you?”

  “No. I’m back at the cottage. But … could you guys please come out here? And be careful on the roads. I don’t know if it’s just us flooded or if it’s widespread.”

  “Okay. I’ll wake Britt up and we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

  Phee clicked off and went to pull on jeans and a sweatshirt. For the next half hour, she paced the cottage, waiting for the sky to turn from black to gray, going from window to window. Even in perfect weather, the cottage had only a sliver of a view of the creek, if you looked between the two cabins. The clouds must have been thick today, because though the rain had nearly stopped, it was still unusually dark for almost seven o’clock.

  She would wait another ten minutes, and if Jo and Britt weren’t here by then, she’d go check on the leak and get a better look at the rising water.

  She’d just zipped up her jacket and stepped onto the porch when headlights appeared around the curve of the lane. But it wasn’t either of the girls’ cars. The headlights got closer and she could make out a pickup—and another one behind it.

  The first truck pulled up and parked beside the cottage. The other vehicle continued slowly up the lane between the cottage and the cabins, then maneuvered to shine its headlights toward the water.

  The beds of both pickups were covered with tarps. Her phone rang and she lifted it. Dad. “Wow, that was fast!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your guys are already here.”

  “Oh, good. That’s why I was calling. Let me talk to Quinn.”

  “Oh. Is he coming? The trucks just pulled in. I haven’t talked to anyone yet.”

  “How’s the water situation?”

  “It’s just now getting light enough to see anything.” Across the way, she saw Quinn climb out of the pickup that had parked by the cottage.

  He jogged across the lane looking serious, but he lifted a hand in a perfunctory wave as he reached the front porch.

  “Hi.” She held out her phone. “My dad’s on the phone.”

  He nodded and took the phone from her. “Hey, Turner.” He listened for a moment. “Not sure. We just got here …”

  Quinn looked at her and gave a little smile, then spoke into the phone again. “She’s fine. She’s standing right here.” Another pause. “Well, we’ll do what we can. We were able to get hold of about three hundred sandbags, but I don’t know what we’re dealing with yet. We’ll just hope it’s enough.”

  Her dad and Quinn spoke for another minute before he handed Phee’s phone back to her. “Tell him we’ll keep him posted. I’m going to see what it looks like down there.”

  He hurried back to the pickup and drove down to where the other truck had parked. Phee told her dad goodbye and jogged down to see what was going on.

  By the time she got there, Quinn and two other men had pulled back the tarps and were unloading sandbags from the back of the other truck. She recognized one of the men from Dad’s office, but she didn’t know
the other one, and they were all too intent on their work to make introductions.

  “What can I do?”

  “If you can lift these sandbags, you can get in the ‘bucket brigade.’ It’ll go faster, and we need to hurry.”

  She looked past him to the creek. For the first time since it had gotten light enough to see anything, she got a good look at their situation. The water was lapping against the stone wall of the cabin farthest from their cottage, and it was flowing quickly, judging by the violent thrashing of limbs and leaves caught in its wake.

  She watched the men for a few seconds, to get a feel for the rhythm, and then grabbed a sandbag from the truck. “Is this even going to help?”

  “It’s our best bet. The rock walls are actually in pretty good shape, except for a few places. We’ll shore those up best we can, and then we’ll sandbag to make the wall higher. If the water doesn’t come up much more, I think the other cabin will be fine.”

  “I wasn’t even watching the news. Should I have been doing this last night? Oh, Quinn, if those cabins wash away …” She couldn’t finish verbalizing that thought. But if that happened, everything they’d sunk their inheritance into would be totally wasted. And if she and her sisters were stuck—all three of them—living out here in this little cottage together, with no place to rent out for income and no options … She couldn’t let her mind go there.

  Quinn didn’t reply, but took the sandbag from her and placed it back on the truck. “Here … Come down to the middle of the brigade so you don’t have to pull the bags down from the truck. This is hard on backs.” He put a hand at her back, as if that might strengthen her, and guided her to a spot between the two other men. “Guys, this is Phylicia.”

  “Hi.” She lifted a hand. “Thanks so much for coming. I don’t know what I would have done without you guys.”

  Quinn went back to the truck, and within a few seconds they had a rhythm going again. Quinn tossed sandbags off the truck to one guy, who passed them to her, then she lugged them to the other guy, who placed the bags strategically on or around the wall.

  A few minutes later, her sisters appeared from behind the truck. Phee had been so intent on the task at hand, she hadn’t even heard them drive in.