Page 68 of A Second Dawn

It occurs to me then, that my immediate future lies in his hands.

If he doesn’t want us here, we’ll have to come up with a new plan. And let’s face it, he might not want to expose his flock to the dangers that follow me.

The thought makes my stomach twist.

Aiden, once more, interprets my expression correctly or reads my mind, which one I’m not sure, but he steps closer, rubbing my back to assure me.

“No matter what, we’ll be fine.” His voice is low so that only I can hear him. My eyes lift to find his, and I rest my forehead against his for a few brief seconds, drinking in his strength.

“I have a good feeling about staying here,” he continues. “And if it doesn’t pan out… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

I wind my arms around his waist and give him a squeeze. A silent thank you for always being there for me. He pecks my forehead and even though it takes less than a second, the warmth of his lips lingers.

Pushing away from him, I noticed Miriam watching us, winking at me when our eyes connect.

“Dinner is ready, everybody,” she calls out, pointing at all the food laid out on the large kitchen island serving as a buffet table.

“Help yourself to whatever you like… and as much as you like.” The last part is addressed to Aiden. Yes, she surmised correctly that this man can eat a ton.

Tantalizing aromas of savory dishes waft through the air. My stomach grumbles in response, my hunger growing. Eagerly shuffling along in the line, I let my gaze wander across the expanse of the room.

It’s a large open space. When you first enter, the kitchen comes into view. On the opposite side, the dining area unfolds, boasting a colossal wooden table that commands attention. It reminds me of tables I’ve seen in castles. Its length seems to stretch on and on, promising abundant room for twice the number of people gathered here tonight. Snaking along the centre is a highly polished branch with holes for candles. They’re all lit, giving the area a welcoming, warm glow.

What draws my attention, though, is the vibrant mosaic adorning the adjacent wall. A resplendent phoenix with outstretched wings emerges triumphantly from a bed of ashes, soaring against a backdrop of a vivid, boundless sky. It’s captivating.

Miriam is behind me, following my line of sight. Nudging me, she tells me, “The phoenix is the symbol of‘Mountain Breath’. It’s a reminder that we can rise above the difficulties of our old life, that we can re-invent ourselves, and leave the past behind.”

“It’s stunning. Did you make it?” I ask, not able to take my eyes off it.

“I did the outline, but everybody here helped create it. It’s a joint effort. We’re making another one in the meditation studio.”

I nod and take in the rest of the room. A rock wall elegantly divides the dining and living areas. Nestled within its sturdy frame is a fireplace, radiating warmth and casting a gentle flickering light that dances across the space. The wall itself holds purposeful beauty with artfully crafted shelves holding an ample supply of firewood and kindling.

Throughout the room, lamps ingeniously crafted from hollowed tree trunks and branches emanate an enchanting glow. Their soft illumination imbues the surroundings with a touch of magic.

How does anyone ever want to leave here?

Every corner of this place boasts beautiful details, making it homey and a place to relax in. Beside the phoenix mosaic, one other décor item captures my heart. Stained glass birds perched on delicate branches grace the dining table. They shimmer and sparkle in the flickering candlelight.

“Did you make these as well?” I ask Miriam, pointing at one.

“No. One of the ladies who stayed here a few years ago loved making these. As you can see, she was superb at it.”

She sure was. I wish I could take one of these along to my next home… wherever that might be.

Throughout dinner, I sense curious stares directed at me and my companions. Ian introduced us to everyone as we sat down, but he didn’t mention why we came or how long we would stay. It’s obvious we don’t fit the mold of people who take refuge here.

Miriam and Claudette regale us with tales of their teenage mischief. Everyone is shedding tears of laughter.

Despite the uncertainty of tomorrow hanging over our heads, it’s a relaxing and thoroughly enjoyable evening.

We help clean up, and I mentally prepare myself for that chat Ian wants to have. But then he declares it got too late and suggests talking in the morning.

Suits me just fine. Tomorrow will be here too soon, and it gives me time to think about how much to tell Ian.

Miriam takes a torch from the hook and points to the door. “Come on, you guys. I’ll show you to your cabin. I figured you don’t mind sharing, given you traveled in an RV together.”

The air is icy when she opens the door, and I tighten the scarf around my neck and pull my beanie over my ears. Stepping outside, my step falters as I lift my gaze to the sky.

---