Chapter 55
The atmosphere in the cabin remained taut following Erik’s admission.
“I need to get some sleep,” Helena said through a yawn.
Liz could see she was exhausted from the slump of her posture. Her lipstick had long since rubbed off, and there were puffy circles beneath her eyes.
There were only four bunks in the small cabin, so Erik took out his roll mat and laid it by the fire. “I’ll sleep down here.” Before he settled, he pushed his feet back into his boots and went outside.
The moment the door closed behind him, Liz huddled close to the others. “What do you think? Are we safe to all go to sleep with Erik here?”
Helena shook her head. “You saw the reaction in the lodge when Erik walked in. His own brother looked wary.”
Liz nodded, remembering how he’d argued with Karin’s parents down by the lake. “Then we sleep in shifts. I’ll stay awake to begin.”
Maggie looked toward the door, her brow creased. “Do you think he’s connected to the cocaine?”
Liz lifted her shoulders. “Wouldn’t he have questioned us? Wanted to know more about the caves?”
“There’s one way to find out,” Joni said, pointing to his backpack. “If he was going to the caves to collect it, then it’d be stuffed in there.”
“You think we should look?” Maggie said.
Joni nodded. “I’ll do it. Keep an ear out for when he’s coming—”
Before Joni could finish her sentence, the door was pushed open—candles dancing—and Erik returned, zipping up his fly. Then he set to unrolling his sleeping bag and settling himself on the floor.
With nothing to be done, the women found a bunk each and Maggie handed out blankets that she’d found in a cupboard.
Liz checked the fire and candles, then climbed onto the top bunk. Her teeth were furred and icky and she would have loved to brush them clean, or change into fresh clothes, but all she could do was lie on the lumpy mattress and listen to the wind outside battering against the cabin.
From their breathing, Joni was the first to fall asleep, then after a time Maggie, and finally Helena. As all fell quiet, she could hear logs shifting in the woodstove, crumbling to ash.
Lying there, Liz felt a sharp pang of loneliness.
She missed Patrick with an ache that hollowed her.
She thought of him right now, at home in their king-size bed, in a T-shirt and pants, just like every other night—and wondered if he’d reached over to her side of the bed, forgetting she wasn’t there.
Or whether he’d spread out, enjoying the extra space.
What if Patrick liked the trial separation? Wanted it to be permanent?
Liz had to hope there was a path back to how they used to be together. She wasn’t a fool: she knew no couple could maintain that stomach-dropping butterfly sensation of being in love year after year. But moments of it? Yes, they could still reach for that.
Maybe that’s what this trip was about, Liz thought as she lay still, watching shadows dancing over the cabin walls: Liz had come out here looking for the girl she used to be. The one Patrick had fallen in love with.
Liz rolled onto her back. Her eyes stung hotly from the wood smoke. The heat in the cabin was too much. She was so tired her eyelids could barely stay open.
She caught the shifting sound of a sleeping bag on the floor and knew without looking that Erik was still awake.
She checked her watch. Another forty minutes until she could wake Joni for her shift.
She listened closely to her friends’ snores, a low wave of inhales and exhales, soporific in their rhythm.
Liz tried to keep herself awake—she really did—but the fading candlelight, the soft sound of slowed breathing, and the heat of the fire gradually lulled her eyelids closed.