“We have the day off tomorrow. We can sleep a little bit later,” he promised, “that is, if you can sleep.”
I raised a brow at him and gazed up into his eyes. His five-o’clock shadow was noticeable in the moonlight, and my hand automatically stroked it. It wasn’t rough like you’d expect it to be. It was soft and tickled my palm. “What do you mean, if I sleep?”
He started walking down the beach, holding my hand, so I was forced to follow along. “I know you don’t sleep a lot. I can hear you in your office typing away at three a.m.”
“I’m sorry if I bothered you,” I apologized. “I won’t do that in the future.”
He stopped and turned toward me. “You didn’t bother me, and you don’t need to apologize. It’s your house. What I want to know is why you aren’t sleeping?”
I held up my hands in frustration. “I don’t know. I wonder if it’s the new medication.”
“Then we need to talk to the doctor about changing it. We’ll do it after the CT scan on Tuesday.”
“You know, maybe we should just concentrate on Birgitte on Tuesday. You’ll have enough to worry about.”
“She’ll be in surgery for hours. You’ll be in the CT scanner for minutes. We can do both.” The wind ruffled our hair, and he brushed a piece behind my ear. “I’m worried about both my girls right now. It’s killing me slowly. Knowing they’re both being taken care of will put my heart at ease a little bit.”
I lowered his hand from my face. “I’m fine, Mattie. The CT scan isn’t going to show anything that we don’t already know. My insomnia probably has more to do with the fact that I have a lot going on right now in here,” I said, tapping my temple. “I just need time.”
He lowered his lips to my forehead and kissed it. “What’s going on in that beautiful head?”
We resumed our walk, and I followed next to him into the dark unknown. “Ever seen a tornado?”
“Yes, on television. Why?” He was perplexed. I could see it in his eyes.
“That’s how I imagine my brain looks right now. Everything is swirling around and getting jumbled together, and nothing makes sense anymore.”
“The fatigue isn’t helping, I’m sure.” He led me to a cave-like opening in the rock against the shore. “Stay here.” He grabbed his flashlight and stepped inside the shallow cave.
“Mathias?” I called out. “Be careful.”
In a heartbeat there came a glow from inside the cavern. “It’s safe,” he called back.
I ducked down and walked through the opening, coming to a halt at the scene before me. A fire burned brightly in a makeshift firepit, tossing little sparks of light into the air. I noticed Mathias had spread out a blanket with pillows against the back of the cave too. “What is this?” I asked, falling to my knees on the sand. “It’s beautiful in here.”
He motioned me over to him where he was sitting on the blanket. “This is our home for the night.”
“Uh, Mathias, we have a wedding tomorrow. I have to go home. I have things to do.”
I wanted to stand up, but he held me to the blanket. “The only thing you have to do is sleep. I know you won’t do that at the house. Let the fire and the Lady of the Lake relax you enough to catch a few winks. You’re running on empty, sweetheart. I’m going to need you next week, not just with Mor but also with Milas’s business.”
“Have you gleaned any information from the paperwork yet?” I leaned back against the pillows and realized he must have made six trips with the pillows alone. They did make the cave cozy, comfortable, and let’s not forget romantic.
“We aren’t going to talk about it tonight. I have the paperwork translated, but I’ll need your help making sense of it. That’s all I’ll say. You have enough to think about for the next few days.”
I nodded once. “Agreed. After the wedding is over and Birgitte is recovering, then we can concentrate on Milas.”
He trailed a finger down my cheek. “You know she would love it if you’d call her Mor, right?”
“She’s mentioned it a time or two hundred.”
“But you can’t do it?”
“Nope.” I motioned at my head. “That’s part of the tornado.”
“Your parents,” he deduced.
“Them and the fact that I don’t deserve to call Birgitte my mother. I love her like one, and she’s always treated me like a daughter, but—” I ended the sentence there since I hadn’t figured out how to finish the thought.
