Just Breathe Again

by C. A. Harms

  Pushing back the sheet that was now dampened by my sweat, I crawled from the bed and welcomed the coolness of the hardwood floor beneath my feet. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I hung my head and again focused on my breathing. One calm intake after another. The anxiety I felt over the loss was enough to cripple me. If I let it, I knew I would crumble and never again be able to pull myself out of the depths of the darkness.

  A quarter until four seemed like a crazy time to be making coffee, but there was no point in trying to fall back to sleep.

  The sounds of the coffee pot began as the water filtered through, and I leaned against the door, looking out through the window. It overlooked the backyard of the small house I rented, and way off in the distance, a light flickered. One mounted on an old barn just up the road. The residents were an older couple, and not once had I even bothered to introduce myself. Most around Gillette by now knew my story or the story they’d conjured up in their minds, I should say. I kept to myself. I didn’t go to social events, and when passing other folks on the streets, I remained aloof. It was best that way. Getting to know people meant allowing them in. Which meant, sooner or later, I would have to talk about my life, and my pain was just that…mine.

  So, except for a few people, I remained distant.

  I liked my privacy.

  The long swoosh, followed by a few random drips, indicated my coffee was ready.

  Grabbing my mug, I poured my cup, added just a small amount of creamer, and gave it a stir. I then turned back toward the door, and though it was chilly outside, I stepped out onto my back porch and breathed in the crisp cool air. It was still early March, and Wyoming weather was an average of forty to forty-five degrees. But at this point, it was about ten degrees cooler. The crisp cool air hit me head-on, and I welcomed the sting against my exposed arms and face.

  I spent the next ten minutes drinking my coffee on the back porch and letting my mind wander over the day ahead. I liked the idea of spending time in the workshop of Dusty Creek Designs. I used to do a lot of woodworking when I was younger. But after Ivy, I stopped doing just about everything that had brought me even a small amount of joy. The guilt was always too much. Guilt that I got the pleasure and my angel never would have the joys of spending a day doing the things she loved. She would never get the chance to explore and find new things that brought her happiness. It was all so overwhelming.

  But today, I was looking forward to it.

  Even if it was just sanding down cabinetry that Dirk had already run through the planer, it was a chance to work a little with my hands. It was also a chance to be on my own, without Walt hassling me over my mood as we rode for hours in the cab of the delivery truck together.

  ***

  Just after six, I arrived at the workshop and placed the key Dirk had given me last night into the deadbolt, giving it a twist.

  Just inside, I flipped the switch, and the entire place lit up. One by one, the large fluorescent lighting began to hum, getting brighter and brighter with each passing second. I had bypassed the front office and used the back entrance as directed, stepping right into the heart of the shop. Every piece of equipment I could imagine was set up through the large building. The place was a woodworker’s dream.

  Top-notch equipment was all Dirk Billings had in his possession. I felt a rush of excitement race through me as I took another step closer, running my hand over the top of the router. Each area was set up like a large station, organized shelves by each with all the tools I would need for any task. The back wall was lined with wood of every kind, and it reminded me of something I would see in the lumberyard and some of the larger hardware stores, like Lowes or Menards.

  I heard the door slam shut behind me, and I spun around, coming face to face with Dirk’s daughter. I knew her name. I had heard it last night, only I couldn’t for the life of me remember what in the hell it was.

  “Hey.” She lifted her hand up and offered an awkward wave. “Sorry about that. I had no idea it would slam like that.” She pointed back to the door behind her.

  Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, and to be honest, it looked like a ratted mess of curls. She wore a sweatshirt that appeared to be two sizes too big and a pair of those leggings women wore. Boots—fuzzy-ass things that reminded me of something someone would wear in a blizzard—covered her feet.

  Tiny damned feet.

  “Sorry to just barge in, but the only way I could keep my father from attempting to go off-roading in his chair down the drive was to agree to walk down here myself.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “He was half out the door when I threatened to take the motor out of his chair and hide it if he didn’t stop.”

  An odd silence settled over us.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  I stared at her a few long seconds before registering she’d asked me a question. “I’ve been told that I’m quiet, yes.” Shrugging, I crossed my arms over my chest, unsure of what else to add.

  The resemblance between this woman and Lynn still made me feel a little off-centered. Same hair color, same high cheekbones, and the same sweet smile. Only the eyes, they were different. Lynn had dark eyes, so dark they almost looked black, and the Billings girl had eyes so green they glowed. A sea green that, with the contrast of her dark hair, stood out even more. Those big, beautiful eyes stared back at me, making me feel as though she could see right through me, and that feeling left a raw sensation deep in my chest.

  “Was there something your father needed me to do besides what he’d already given the orders for?” I looked away from her eyes, feeling as though I needed to focus on something else to regain my bearings. “He had the cabinets and hutch that need to be sanded. Was there more?”

  “No.” She pulled at the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she rocked back on the heels of her boots. “He just wanted to make sure you got inside all right and that you didn’t need anything. He has a really hard time letting go of the reins.”

  I found myself smiling when I looked up at her once more.

  “Well, you can let him know I’m inside, and I plan to stick it out today until this order is sanded and ready for stain tomorrow.” She arched her eyebrow as she looked over the expanding amount of cabinets piled before me. “I’m dedicated.”

  “It would seem.” Her eyes met mine once more. That awkward silence returned, and again, I had to look away. “Then I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, you can pick up the phone and hit the home button. It will ring up to my father’s office, and he’s got that phone strapped to himself like it’s his lifeline. I figure I gotta let him have something.”

  “You definitely gotta give a little or he’ll be crawling out of his skin within a week.”

  “True.” She smiled. When she found my stare focused on her mouth, she shifted on her feet, and I looked away quickly. “So I’ll let you get to it.” She reached out and grabbed the door handle. “The fridge is stocked. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want. Also, my mother is making enough lunch to feed an army and plans to bring you a big portion, so be prepared to feast.”

  Before I could deny the offer, she pulled open the door and held out her hand to stop me. “There’s no use trying to stop her. It’s her thing. She enjoys taking care of people, so from this point on, I would just prepare yourself to be spoiled and maybe even gain a few pounds while you’re working in the shop.”

  Then, she was gone, and the door closed with a click behind her.

  Just a few minutes ago, I had felt as though her presence was suffocating me, but now that she was gone, I found myself wishing she’d come back.

  What in the hell is wrong with me?

  Chapter Five

  Faith

  There was a gentle tapping on the bathroom door, just before I heard my mother’s soft voice from the opposite side. “Faith?”

  “Yeah?” I held the developing picture out and clipped it on the line above. Slowly, and almost magically, the image of Aaron began to appe
ar.

  “Deanna is downstairs.”

  I smiled, thinking of my loud-mouthed friend. I may not have been here for years, but it didn’t stop us from staying in touch. “Tell her to give me five more minutes. I have some images I’m developing.”

  “Your dad is entertaining her.” I sensed a smile in my mother’s response and knew it was more likely Deanna keeping my father entertained. She had a way about her, one that made her the center of attention no matter who she was with or where she stood. She was a gorgeous girl with amazing auburn hair, natural highlights, and just the right amount of curves. Not that my father looked at her that way. She was like a second daughter to him. No, my father was most likely drowning in her newest round of chaos. Deanna was amazing to look at, but her life was always a dramatic mess. Men troubles, job shuffling, and more.

  I hurried to finish the few images I’d waited to develop and tucked away for safe keeping. I already felt like such a creeper, knowing I’d taken pictures of Aaron without his knowledge, but I couldn’t stop myself. The man may have been broody and difficult to read, but he was handsome and tormented…a mystery. He held the same expression often, the one that left me wondering just what could be going on in his mind. There was never really a sign of happy or sad, just distance.

  Close to ten minutes later, I was gathering my things and scurrying off to meet Anna. As I’d thought, she was carrying on a mile a minute, and from the look on my father’s face, he was already exhausted by her antics. I covered my mouth to hide my smile as I paused in the doorway of his den.

  “So, you see,” she continued, completely unaware of my presence, “Mr. Hense knew when he hired me that I refused to clean out those nasty freezers he stores the bait in. Not only do they smell God awful, but the idea that one of those dirty worms could have possibly wiggled free of the containers and was still lurking in the shadows was a definite no from me.”

  “They’re worms, Deanna, not predators.”

  “Daddy B,” this is what she’d called my father for as long as I could remember, “they are slimy, dirty little creatures. What if I reached in and it caught on and wouldn’t let go or something?”

  “They have no teeth.”

  “Do we know that for sure?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I mean, like, really, really know?” My poor father had reached his breaking point. There was no going back. I could see the defeated look in his eyes, and though I tried my best to hide my snicker, it was impossible.

  Deanna heard me and spun around. “It’s about time.” She waved to my father over her shoulder before hurrying in my direction. “We have a one o’clock appointment for hair and nails.”

  “What?”

  Giving me no chance to refuse, she dragged me off toward the front door and right out onto the front porch. The door slamming shut behind us, we rounded the corner and came face to face with Aaron. He stood on the ground, two stairs down from us, but even with his height, we were at eye level. Eyes that pierced through me and made my pulse quicken stared directly into my own.

  “Aaron,” I said before I could stop myself, and something shifted in his eyes. “Are you looking for my father?”

  “I was invited to lunch.” The deep tone of his voice, laced with a southern drawl, ran through me like a cold chill, and I did my best not to react.

  “Right.” I nodded, yet I didn’t move out of his way.

  An awkward silence settled between us, and Deanna was the first to speak. “Well, this is weird.” My cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

  “Have a good afternoon, ladies.” Aaron stepped aside, allowing us to pass, and I glared at Deanna as I gripped her arm to drag her along.

  “He’s still watching,” she added with a laugh, and I dug my nails in deeper. Taking a chance, I glanced back over my shoulder, and she was right; his body was turned completely around, his hand on the railing of the porch. But his eyes were still on me.

  I knew I shouldn’t. A voice inside my head screamed and cried, telling me that, in the end, I would only wish I hadn’t, but I wanted to know what was hidden behind that man’s broodiness. I had always had a bad habit of wanting men I shouldn’t, and I knew Aaron was no different.

  ***

  “What do you know about him?” I asked Deanna as I sat in the chair across from her. Our hair was done, our nails and toes were painted, and now, we sat in a small cafe in the center of Gillette having a late lunch.

  “Not much.” She shrugged. I’d most likely regret even asking her because Deanna had a problem keeping her nose out of others’ business. I understood that my own curiosity about Aaron would simply pique her interest as well. Not in a love interest kind of way but more of a dissection. She would make it a mission to learn all she could about the dark, mysterious man. “He doesn’t get out much. I’ve only seen him a few times at Sully’s. Other than that, he’s a mystery to us all. But he’s always wearing that same look.”

  “What look?” I knew the look. I honestly just wanted to know if she saw it the same way I had.

  “The distant, don’t-mess-with-me-we’ve-got-nothing-to-talk-about look.”

  Yep. That was it. Yet, here I was, craving to blur that line and wander into dangerous waters anyway.

  “But even behind all that, he is still really fun to look at,” Deanna added with a mischievous grin. “You were always the first one to accept a challenge.”

  “I’m not saying I’m interested.”

  “You don’t have to.” My gaze met hers, and she pointed to her eyes and then to me. “I can see it without you admitting it. Just be careful. I have a feeling that, behind all that quiet distance, there is a whole lotta trouble.”

  I chose to let it die there, taking her words into account. I knew she wasn’t wrong.

  The rest of our afternoon was filled with gossip about all those we went to school with, where they were, and what they were doing. Some of the stories surprised me; others, not so much. For instance, Mary Jane Kleiber was on her third husband and fifth kid. She always did say she was going to find a man to take care of her. I guess the income of child support and divorce settlements was the route she chose.

  We walked along the main strip of Gillette, which consisted of storefronts. Some were for businesses that were there when I was younger. The bakery from where my mother ordered my cake every single year until I went off to college. The candy shop where my friends and I went every Sunday after church and visited Old Man Mooney. He always had a candy of the week and allowed us all to have a taste. It was now run by someone new, but the store still looked the same.

  As we rounded the corner toward the place where we had parked, I paused next to a small, empty shop and looked at the FOR RENT sign posted in the window. How I’d missed that on our way through the first time, I didn’t know.

  The space was small, longer and narrower than it was wide. Floor to ceiling windows lined the front of the store, and it was wide and open, leaving plenty of options for setup.

  “What’s up?” Deanna paused ahead, looking back at me then toward the store I stood in front of. “You thinking of opening up a store?”

  “I had a place in New York,” I said as I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the number on the sign in the window. “It would be nice to have a dark room again versus the bathroom at my parents’.”

  Tucking my phone into my purse, I walked away as the ideas of what I could possibly do with this place rolled around in my mind. “I still have a few contracts with people in the city. At times, they may hire me to travel somewhere for a photo shoot, but I thought maybe getting back into doing weddings, family photos, and things could be something I may consider. Somehow, taking images of the land around my father’s, though beautiful, most likely won’t be creating much of an income. I love my parents, but I have no intentions of living with them forever. Getting my own place would be nice, but to do so, I need a steady income.”

  “That’s Rae Williams’s old quilt shop.” I paused at the side of her car
, looking at her over the top of the roof. “Rae, as in, the guy who works for your father’s significant other?” I was still puzzled. I figured she had forgotten that I had been gone for years. “She’s from Texas. She and Walt were childhood sweethearts. They lost touch after high school. She married, and after her husband passed away about eleven years ago, they reconnected. Then, she moved here, and she and Walt have been together ever since. It’s romantic, yet sad. I forgot you probably don’t know her, but you should know Walt. He’s worked for your dad for years.”

  I knew of Walt, heard stories about him, and from what I knew, he was loyal to my father, so he was all right by me.

  “Also, Rae raised your friend, Aaron, after his father ran out on him and his mamma. Apparently, his mother lost it, and I don’t know the exact details, but somehow, she was a friend of his family’s, and when his mamma couldn’t care for him, Rae stepped up to the plate.” I stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

  “What?”

  “You said you didn’t know much about Aaron.”

  “I don’t.” Pulling open her driver’s side door, she tossed her purse inside. “That’s just what I picked up from the ladies at the salon.”

  “That’s something.” Every little detail I could get gave me a little piece of the man I can’t seem to shake. I’d barely talked to him, but my mind wouldn’t turn off when it came to learning more about Aaron.

  “My bad.” With a shrug, she climbed into her car and left me shaking my head at her. For a nosy ass, she sure wasn’t great with details when they mattered, that was for sure.