An hour later, the sun sank behind the trees and Bee fell asleep in my lap. My eyes had barely left the fire since Alex built it. Alex was still running around, setting up camp, getting people organized, and making sure boats and supplies were secure. Once it was full dark, he sat down at the fire beside me and Susan.
He poked at the fire, glancing up at us. "Everyone okay?"
No one answered. He addressed us individually, "Susan?"
"I'm fine," she said, tight-lipped.
Was she mad? I suppose she had every right to be. She was hard at work saving my child while I was busy flying around, knocking down trees, and dumping more people in the river.
"Kaitlyn?"
"Huh?" I said. My eyes flitted from Susan over to Alex.
"You okay?" he asked.
I looked down at Bee, and pulled the blanket tighter around her. "I'm not getting back in the river until we get her a lifejacket."
"Agreed," said Alex and Susan at the same time.
More silence, and more poking at the fire.
"Did you eat anything?" Susan asked Alex.
"No. I'm going to take a canoe across the river; make sure the camp over there has everything they need."
"Eat something first," she said. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order.
"Yes, ma'am." Alex stood up and went over to another fire they were using to cook food.
Susan picked up Alex's stick and assumed fire duty.
I stared into the glowing coals. "Susan…"
She paused poking.
"I just wanted to say…that if anything ever happens to me—"
"Don't," she interrupted.
I glanced at her.
"There isn't any need to have that conversation because nothing is going to happen to any of us. Micah, Alex, you, Bee, and me. We're all going to be just fine."
It really was wishful thinking, considering I was thrown into the mix.
I leaned back, adjusting my legs under Bee. "You guys have really been great to her. Thanks for saving her today, and thanks for…well, just everything."
She sighed, put the stick down, and scoot closer to me. "You're welcome." She wrapped her arm around me, laid her chin on my shoulder, and looked down at Bee. Susan straightened. "Our pants."
"What about them?" I looked over at them drying across a log.
"Didn't Alex say they can float?"
He had.
"Sure weren't floating for me today," I said.
"You have to take them off," Alex said, entering our clearing while eating an apple. He wiped juice off his chin. "Tie off each leg, then cinch down the waist."
I stood, and handed Bee to Susan.
She asked, "What are you—?"
"Geez, Kaitlyn," Alex cut off Susan's question as he turned his back to me.
The blanket was already on the ground at my feet.
"A little warning next time?" Alex mumbled.
"Oh, please. We're all adults here." It wasn't like he had never accidentally walked in on me when I was changing, or using the bathroom – in the woods.
I put on my oversized shirt before I grabbed my pants. Under Alex's direction, though he still refused to look, I tied each leg off.
"Now hold them at the waist, and bring them up, then down quick, catching the air. Cinch the waist straps down," he said.
It took me a couple tries.
"It will work better when the waist is in the water," Alex said, having turned around.
"By the time she is in the water, it will be too late," Susan said.
I studied the pants, "We could seal the waist up, instead of tying it off."
Alex picked out the seeds and threw the core of his apple in the fire. "I'll check with the other side if they have anything for that." He handed me the seeds.
"Thanks. Oh – and Alex?" I looked up at him. "See if anyone can spare some pants."
Chapter 11
Nightmares
"Easy there, princess." Shawn's words echoed through my head. His blue eyes floated in front of me, but they were familiar. I was able to ignore them. It was the same dream that always plagued my sleep. The circle of fire surrounded us, Shawn held a knife, and there was something at my back.
This time, I would make a decision. Maybe it would end the repeating nightmare. I turned, leaving my back vulnerable to Shawn and his knife.
"Where's the baby?" I heard him ask behind me. I ignored him.
The thing at my back was a large ball of light, steady and strong. It didn’t flicker like in the last dream. When it began to rise, I pulled at it, willing it back down. It didn't stop; but it slowed. I did have some control over it, but my grasp was slippery, making the task difficult.
I pulled again, and the light ceased its upward momentum. I worked, struggling as though my fingertips were barely holding on.