Page 2 of Love Me Fearless

“Home sweet home,” he says, opening the door for me.

Inside, a square dining table and two chairs hugs the right side of the one-room cabin, with a tidy kitchenette behind it. A big window over the sink offers a view of the lake. On the left side is a couch, where Hutch has deposited his green duffel and backpack. A ladder in the middle leads to a loft where I’m assuming the bed is located. In the back is a bathroom. As in singular.

It’s only two nights. I can do this.

“You want to take a shower before rehearsal?” he asks, carrying my suitcase and garment bag up the ladder.

He says it casually, but my mind takes a dive. To the gutter.

I force myself to continue into the little kitchen and pour myself a glass of water from the tap. “Why don’t you go first?” I call out. “You’re faster.”

He descends the stairs. “Kay. Out in a minute.” He rifles in his duffel, then disappears into the bathroom. A moment later, the steady hum of water through the pipes fills the silence, muffling his soft singing.

A knock on the door startles me. I hurry to open it, abandoning my glass of water on the counter.

“Ava!” Kirilee screams, nearly tackling me with a full-body hug. Her long hair is wet, like she’s been swimming. Behind her stands her boyfriend Sawyer, dressed in damp swim trunks and a faded T-shirt, a towel hanging from his neck.

He hugs me next, his burly arms like pythons. “Heard about the cabin thing. Why don’t you and I switch?”

“We don’t mind,” Kirilee insists as Sawyer slips his hand into hers.

“And split you two apart?” I protest. “No way.”

“We’ll survive,” Kirilee says with a quick glance at Sawyer, who smiles. The energy between them seems to tighten the air molecules around us. Six months ago, my sweet friend Kirilee was engaged to a rich jerk named Birch Callahan, a green energy guru her parents had decreed suitable for saving the family business. But on the day of her wedding, Kirilee decided she was ready to chart her own path, with Sawyer at her side, and I couldn’t be more thrilled for them both.

“We’ve got it worked out,” I say.

“But there’s only one bed,” Kirilee says, frowning.

Behind me, the bathroom door pops open, and Hutch steps out dressed in just a towel.

“Oh, hey guys,” he says, completely at ease barely dressed, his tanned skin glistening with beads of water that seem to catch the rays of the lowering sun, turning them golden. “Forgot my razor,” he adds, plucking a small kit from his duffel and slipping back into the bathroom.

“It’s fine,” I say to Kirilee, forcing a smile.

We say a quick goodbye, and I gather my things for my shower. Inside my mind, I say a little mantra: It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll help it become true.

Because I’ve never felt so nervous in my life.

I’m just leaving the cabin for the rehearsal in the meadow a half hour later when Hutch returns to the cabin, a serious look on his face. “Hey, got a minute? A staff member’s daughter is having some sort of medical thing. Looks like asthma but you’re the doc.”

“Where is she?” I step off the porch and hurry up the trail, Hutch at my side.

“Up by the tent.” He’s not even slightly out of breath. “She was playing with her brother and started having trouble breathing. We called 9-1-1 but they’re at least twenty minutes out. I got a set of vitals.” He rattles off the numbers, which paint a grim picture.

We break into a jog, and at the meadow, I spot the receptionist from earlier sitting on the grass, rubbing the back of the lanky girl next to her, who is kneeling, her hands on her thighs. Even from here I can see her rapid breaths and anxious face. Standing behind them looking even more worried is a boy of about eight, his lip trembling like he’s going to cry.

As I approach, I meet the mom’s eyes. “Hi, I’m Ava. I know some first aid, can I help?”

A fearful expression fills the mom’s eyes and she moves closer to her daughter. “I don’t know.”

I squat down so I’m not towering over them. “Will you let me try?” In the world of medicine, consent isn’t something I can’t breeze over, even in an emergency.

“All right,” Mom says. “I’m Ashley. This is Marin.”

I smile at the girl. “Nice to meet you both.” Up close, Marin’s breaths have a wheezy quality I don’t like.

“I don’t normally bring them,” Ashley says. “But my sitter cancelled last minute and we’re fully booked. Plus I couldn’t let the Whitakers down.”

---