Page 74 of Off the Beaten Path

It’s only then that I realize how quick and shallow my breaths are, how my chest is rising and falling rapidly, how it feels like my heart is beating in my throat fast enough to cut off my oxygen. I’m panicking, and I can’t stop.

Before I know what’s happening, Holden has pulled the truck over onto the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking around at the familiar surroundings. We’re about a mile from the turnoff that leads up the mountain to the cabin, and up ahead, breaking through the trees, I can see smoke gathering in the air. “We have to get to the cabin.”

Holden puts the truck in park and turns to face me, his large, warm hands cupping my face. “Wren, I need you to breathe.”

I’ve never seen him worried like this before, his eyes desperate in their concern. Every line of his body is taut, a string pulled tight enough to snap.

My breaths are coming so fast that I’m panting, clouding up the minuscule space between us. It’s so hard to breathe, and that makes me panic more.

“I can’t,” I pant, fear clawing its way up my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the smoke billowing in the distance, my entire life savings going up in flames.

“Wren, look at me.” Holden’s voice is firm, so authoritative that it makes me listen without hesitation. He’s scared, he must be, I saw it in his eyes just moments ago, but now that emotion is wiped from his face. Now he looks steady, like the rocks at the beach that are able to withstand the harsh elements without eroding or breaking. Andthat’swhat finally makes me breathe, what begins to steady my heart rate. For so long, I’ve been on my own, taking care of myself the best way I know how, but for the first time, I realize I don’t have to anymore. That if I crumple, there’s someone here to pick up the pieces. With Holden, I’m safe to fall apart.

And that’s exactly what I do. As my breathing slows, the tears come. The adrenaline crashes, and the seriousness of the situation washes over me, rocking me to my core.

Holden gathers me to him, holding me against his chest. His lips are at my temple, and he rocks us back and forth. “It’s going to be okay,” he says over and over again, and although I know he can’t possibly be right, I want to believe him. I think I do believe him. Because no matter what happens, I’m not alone.

When the tears slow and Holden pulls back, his thumbs swiping away the damp hairs sticking to my face. His eyes are hard again, the line of his mouth firm. “We will figure this out,” he says, and it seeps right into my soul. “Together.”

I nod, my head still in his hands, and he presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. We’ve shared so many kisses over the last two months, but this one feels like the night of the musical, like a promise.

Holden rests his forehead against mine. “Are you ready to go up there?”

This time, I don’t let my eyes drift to the smoke up ahead. This time, I keep them focused on him, my steady rock in this storm. “I’m ready.”

His hand latches on to mine, fingers threading together, and we turn back onto the road. I don’t let myself look at the smoke. I just watch his profile in the gray light of the cab. I memorize how he looks right now, his jaw set, his shoulders tight, his tattoos peeking out of the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel, color stretching up the length of his forearms.

When we turn into the driveway of the cabin, I finally allow myself to look forward. Smoke pours out of the front windows, and the firefighters are trying valiantly to douse it.

Holden squeezes my hand. “Together, Red. We’re going to figure this out.”

All I can bring myself to do is nod.

Grey meets us at the truck as soon as we climb out, motioning for us to stay back. Rain pelts us, soaking us through in seconds. “We’ve almost got it out.”

Beyond the windows, I can see the orange dance of flames, and if this is close to being out, I’m glad I wasn’t here at its worst.

“What do you think caused it?” Holden asks, and if I’m not mistaken, I think nerves tinge his voice. Suddenly, I realize he’s worried it’s his fault.

Grey is still watching the fire, his suit covered in soot that’s streaked with rainwater. “We won’t know for sure until the fire chief can get in to assess it, but I think it was lightning.”

Holden’s shoulders heave, losing some of their tension immediately, and I squeeze his hand. When he squeezes mine back, I scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth under the chilly rain.

“It looks like the fire started on the porch and went into the living room, which is what leads me to believe a lightning strike. Unless you had something else on the porch that could have caused it, like a lithium battery.”

“Nothing,” Holden says, and once again, I’m so thankful to have him here, to have someone who knows this place as well as I do to answer the questions. I don’t think I could give coherent answers right now.

Grey’s warm blue eyes settle on me now, softening. “I’m so sorry, Wren. We’re working hard to get it out.”

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything.

Holden, bless him, asks the question I’m too afraid to ask. “How bad is it?”

Grey’s jaw tightens, his gaze returning to the cabin, which thankfully just looks full of smoke now. No more flames in sight. “We won’t know for sure until the fire chief can get inside, but honestly?” His statement is more of a question, his focus turning back to us. “I think there’s fairly significant damage to the porch and maybe the living room, but the rest of the cabin looks untouched. We got here quickly, so I think those rooms will just have smoke damage.”

I’m not sure what I was expecting to hear, or even if that’s what I wanted to hear, but I know that it doesn’t make me feel any better or worse. I guess it’s a good thing it was localized, but regardless, I’m not going to have it fixed and ready for guests in two weeks.

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