Blake Pierce - Almost Lost

Cassie nodded, grateful for the input on her new charges.

“Here’s your room. Let’s put these bags down.”

The small room had a beautiful sea view. It was decorated in turquoise and white, and looked neat and welcoming. Ryan placed her larger bag by the foot of the bed, and the smaller one on the striped armchair.

“The guest bathroom is down the passage. We have Madison’s room on the right, Dylan’s room on the left, and finally mine. Then there’s one other place I must show you.”

He accompanied her back down the hall and they headed into the family room. Beyond it, through the glass doors, Cassie saw a covered balcony with wrought-iron furniture.

“Wow,” she breathed. The sea view from this vantage point was exquisite. There was a dramatic drop to the ocean below, and she could hear the waves crashing against the rocks.

“This is my peaceful place. I sit here every evening after dinner to unwind, usually with a glass of wine. You’re very welcome to join me any evening you choose—wine’s optional, but warm, windproof clothing is compulsory. The balcony is solidly roofed, but not glassed in. I considered doing it but found I couldn’t. Out there, with the sound of the sea and even an occasional gust of spray on stormy nights, you feel so connected to the ocean. Take a look.”

He opened the sliding door.

Cassie walked out onto the balcony and headed to the edge, grasping the steel railing.

As she did so, dizziness flooded her, and suddenly, she wasn’t looking down onto a Devon beach.

She was leaning over a stone parapet, staring in horror at the crumpled body far below, flooded with panic and confusion.

She could feel the stone, cold against her fingers.

She remembered the hint of perfume that had still lingered in the opulent bedroom, and the way that nausea had boiled inside her and her legs had gone so weak that she’d thought she would collapse. How she’d been unable to remember how the events of the previous night had played out. Her nightmares, always bad, had become far worse and more vivid after that shocking sight, so she’d been unable to tell where dreams ended and memories began.

Cassie thought she’d left that terrified person behind, but now, as the darkness rushed up to swallow her, she understood that the memories, and the fear, had become a part of her.

“No,” she tried to scream, but her own voice seemed to come from a distant, faraway place and all that came out was a ragged, inaudible whisper.

“There, take it easy. Just breathe. In, out, in, out.”

Cassie opened her eyes and found herself looking at the deck’s solid wooden floorboards.

She was seated on the soft cushion of one of the wrought-iron chairs, with her head on her knees. Firm hands were grasping her shoulders, supporting her.

It was Ryan, her new employer. His hands, his voice.

What had she done? She’d panicked and made a complete fool of herself. Hastily she struggled upright.

“Easy, take it slow.”

Cassie gasped. Her head was whirling and she felt as if she was having an out-of-body experience.

“You had a serious attack of vertigo there. For a minute I thought you were going to fall over the railing,” Ryan said. “I managed to grab you before you blacked out. How are you feeling?”

How was she feeling?

Icy cold, lightheaded, and mortified by what had happened. She’d been desperate to make a good impression and to live up to Ryan’s praise of her. Instead, she’d screwed up badly and should explain why.

How could she, though? If he knew the horrors she’d been through, and that her ex-employer was facing trial for murder at this very moment, he might change his mind about her and feel that she was too unstable to care for his children at a time when they needed stability. Even a panic attack might be cause for concern.

It would be better to go along with what he’d assumed—that she’d suffered a bout of vertigo.

“I’m feeling much better,” she answered him. “I’m so sorry. I should have remembered that I get severe vertigo if I haven’t been around heights for a while. It does improve. In a day or two I’ll be fine out here.”

“That’s good to know, but you must be careful in the meantime. Are you OK to stand up now? Keep holding my arm.”

Cassie got up, leaning on Ryan until she was sure her legs would support her, and then he slowly walked her back into the family room.

“I’m good now.”

“You sure?” He held her arm a moment longer before letting go.

“Take some time now to unpack, rest up, settle in, and I’ll have supper ready by six-thirty.”

Cassie took her time unpacking, making sure her belongings were neatly packed in the quaint white wardrobe, and that her meds were stashed at the back of the desk drawer. She didn’t think this family would go through her stuff when she wasn’t there, but she didn’t want to field any embarrassing questions about the anxiety medications she took, especially after the panic attack she’d had earlier.

At least she’d recovered from the episode quickly, and that must be a sign that her anxiety was under control. She made a mental note to take her nighttime tablets before joining the family for dinner, just in case.

The delicious aroma of cooking garlic and browning meat wafted through the house long before six-thirty. Cassie waited until a quarter past six and then put on one of her prettiest tops, with beadwork around the neck, lip gloss, and a touch of mascara. She wanted Ryan to see her at her best. She told herself it was important to give a good impression because of the earlier panic attack, but when she thought back to those moments on the porch, she found what she remembered most clearly was the feel of Ryan’s toned, muscular arms as he’d held her.

She felt lightheaded all over again when she remembered how strong, yet gentle with her he’d been.

Leaving her room, Cassie nearly bumped into Madison, who was heading eagerly for the kitchen.

“This food smells so good,” Madison told Cassie.

“Is it your favorite dinner?”

“Well, I love spag bol the way Dad makes it, but not when we eat out in restaurants. They don’t do it the same. So I’d say this is my favorite home food, and my second favorite is roast chicken, and my third favorite is toad in the hole. Then when we go out, I love fish and chips, which you get all over the place here, and I love pizza, and I hate hamburgers, which happen to be Dylan’s favorite, but I think restaurant burgers are yuck.”

“What’s toad in the hole?” Cassie asked curiously, guessing it must be a traditional English dish.

“Have you never eaten it? It’s sausages baked in a sort of pie, made with eggs and flour and milk. You have to have it with lots of gravy. I mean, lots. And peas and carrots.”

The conversation had taken them all the way into the kitchen. The wooden table was laid for four, and Dylan was already sitting in his place, pouring a glass of orange juice.

“Burgers are not yuck. They’re the food of the gods,” he countered.

“My teacher at school said they’re mostly cereal and bits of the animals you wouldn’t eat otherwise, ground up finely.”

“Your teacher is wrong.”

“How can she be wrong? You’re stupid to say that.”

Cassie was about to intervene, thinking Madison’s insult too personal, but Dylan got his comeback in first.

“Hey, Maddie.” Dylan pointed a warning finger at her. “You’re either with me or you’re against me.”

Cassie couldn’t work out what he meant by that, but Madison rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him before sitting down.

“Can I help you, Ryan?”