The Sky We Seek (Love and Other Dreams #2)

Chapter 15

Elina

Gasping for breath, I open the door to my cabin.

Did he see me?

"It doesn't matter," I admonish myself because that's just how it is.

I kick off my ballerinas and march straight into the kitchen, where I place my groceries on the dining table. My hand reaches to my shoulder, where the shopping bag handles have dug deep into my skin. I massage the spot, emitting a contented sigh.

It's the only sound in the silence of this cabin. I need to change that. I reach for the phone, but immediately let it drop again.

Maya is probably on the plane. And even if she has already arrived in Barcelona, she definitely doesn't have time to chat. Besides, what would I even tell her?

That she was right?

Again?

For a moment, I consider calling my mother. But I still haven't received the confirmation for the therapy spot I'm fighting for on Aaron's behalf. And as long as that's the case, she won’t want to talk to me anyway.

Feeling dejected, I put the phone away and instead turn on some music. The live album from Rammstein is just perfect for my mood. Seconds later, I hear the ecstatic screams of thousands of people. A pounding bass kicks in, making the audience shriek with excitement.

I can't help but close my eyes. To feel a little more like I'm there myself amid the electrified crowd, laughing and whistling. My head moves to the rhythm of the music. I raise a hand up high and sing along loudly.

That's how life should be.

Thrilling. Loud. Breathtaking.

I jump up and down, over and over again, consumed by the energy. I feel better. Much better.

When the song ends, I'm ready to open my eyes again even though I know exactly what awaits me.

That eerie silence. And the loneliness.

In time with the next song, I unpack the groceries and store them in the cabinets.

Where is my favorite chocolate? The one with the cookie layer and the gooey caramel center that I was so looking forward to? Puzzled, I turn the shopping bag upside down, but it's clearly empty. I must have lost the chocolate somewhere on the way from the village shop to here. With my gaze fixed on the ground, I stroll into the hallway toward the entrance door.

It's not here. I step outside. The stone slabs that surround the cabin are empty. I gaze along the gravel path that leads through the small forest to Hanna's garden.

Where Noah is doing something, whatever it may be. I definitely don't want to run into him, so I only venture as far as I can remain unseen within the shelter of the firs. Suddenly, a flock of sparrows flies up noisily beside me. In the next second, I hear footsteps. A silhouette emerges among the tree trunks .

Quickly, I turn around. The chocolate isn't that important after all.

"Elina!" That's Hanna's voice.

Relieved, I stop and turn to her with a smile. "Hey."

A woven wicker basket dangles from her arm. Colorful flower heads protrude from the opening. They glow almost as intensely as Hanna's face. "I was just about to distribute these at the cabins," she says, lifting the basket a little.

What a nice idea! "Can I help you with that?" I ask, liking the thought of bringing joy to the other tenants.

"That would be lovely." She signals for me to follow her, which I gladly do. "Have you settled in well?" she asks me when we reach a cabin that looks exactly like mine. Only the patio furniture is different, but they seem to be lovingly handmade pieces like mine.

"It's very..." How can I express it? "Peaceful." I raise my shoulders somewhat shyly. After all, this is her home, and I don't want to offend her.

The smirk she gives as she places the flower basket on one of the wooden chairs tells me that she's anything but offended. "Does the peace scare you?" Something tells me she already knows the answer. Maybe it's the way she looks at me. So penetratingly. As if she knows what lies deep within my soul. "A little," I admit.

She starts arranging marigolds and daisies into a bouquet. Lost in thought, she plucks the leaves from the bottom of the stem. "They say that only when the water lies still before you can you see yourself in it."

I have no idea what she means, but I instantly have a vivid image of a deep blue mountain lake. And like an outside observer, I see myself kneeling on the shore, leaning over to peer into the water's surface. My breath quickens, and I press my lips together.

In the next second, I panic and quickly withdraw my hand from the water. The lake becomes restless, and individual droplets splash so high that they touch my forehead. Slowly, they find their way over my temples and cheekbones down to my chin, ultimately landing back in the water.

"Would you like to make a bouquet too?" Hanna's gentle voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

Thank goodness she does. Because what just happened in my mind was strange. And more frightening than any horror movie.

"I'd love to." I try to muster a casual smile, then lower my gaze to the basket and carefully examine the selection of flowers. My bouquet should be beautiful, but which blooms go well together?

"Trust your intuition," Hanna says. "There is no right or wrong."

That may be true, but I feel a strong urge to get this right. I don't know how, so I reach for the flower that looks like an oversized daisy, combine it with the delicate branches, then decide to use more daisies. The bouquet in my hand becomes denser.

Once it's finished, I show it to my landlady. "What do you think of this?"

Without looking up, she continues working on her own bouquet. Bright blue and sunny yellow blooms come together in her hand, forming a perfect arrangement.

"What do you think of yours?" she asks.

My gaze shifts between my bouquet and hers. "Yours is prettier," I admit, feeling a pang of remorse.

She hands me twine and scissors. I reach for them, but she doesn't let go. Instead, she looks deep into my eyes, making me feel uneasy. "Things have exactly the value you attribute to them."

What is she trying to tell me? "I know," I reply, not wanting to appear foolish in front of her.

Luckily, she releases the twine and scissors with an approving nod. We silently finish tying the two bouquets, place them in the slender vases Hanna conjures from her basket, and arrange them on the wooden patio table. They look beautiful. It's a shame I can't witness the cabin residents discovering them. I'm sure their smiles would warm my chest.

Hanna links her arm with mine, pulling me along. "Come on, we still have three vacation rentals ahead of us."

We continue walking together. I let her lead the way since I have no idea where the other cabins are. From my accommodation, it always seems like there is nothing but forest as far as the eye can see.

"There's a small celebration in the garden tonight," she says as we leave the gravel path and follow a barely visible footpath that cushions our steps. "I'd like to invite you."

A party? That sounds much better than anything I've done here so far. "Then my TV shows will have to wait tonight," I say, grinning. "What time does it start?"

As Hanna gives me the details, I feel the excitement building inside me. There will be a barbecue, music, and the newly built sun terrace will turn into a dance floor.

"Can I help with the preparations?" My cheeks are now glowing with anticipation. I'd love to hug her. I hop alongside her on the footpath, and at the end of it, another cabin comes into view.

Hanna waves off my offer. "You're my guest. Your only task is to enjoy the evening." A strangely guarded expression appears on her face. "Besides, the men of the house are taking care of everything. They have it under control."

She must be referring to her boyfriend, Florian. And Noah. He will surely be at the party too.

With his girlfriend.

They will dance together. Look deeply into each other's eyes. And he will kiss her so passionately that she forgets everything around her.

Stop, Elina. Thinking about it makes no sense.

"That's great," I croak out, then quickly clear my throat. "I'm excited."

Her probing gaze meets mine. She looks at me for a moment. "Good," she says, then sets her flower basket on one of the patio chairs, just like before.

Together, we start working. To lift my spirits, I create a bouquet that contains all the colors of the rainbow. Yet I can't keep my thoughts from wandering into the future.

In my imagination, I'm already standing in front of the wardrobe in my bedroom, searching for a suitable outfit for the party.

The floral dress would be nice, paired with the high heels and the purse with the rose appliqué. I meticulously straighten my hair, and my makeup will be subtle, with emphasis on the lips.

I'll look like Gisele Bündchen as a flower princess.

Yes. Equipped like that, I can face Noah and his girlfriend without losing my composure.

** *

Hours later, there's nothing left of my conviction. I nibble on my lower lip, alternating my gaze between the clock and the mirror.

I should have left already, but I still don't look perfect. A rebellious strand of hair refuses to stay smooth, and my face appears blotchy. At least the outfit fits well, as does the lipstick. My eyelashes elegantly sweep up to my brows.

One last time, I fixate on my reflection. "You can do this."

As if to agree with myself, I nod. "He's a boring, unattractive, insignificant man. Nothing more."

With this mantra in my mind, I finally leave the cottage. I can barely walk on the uneven gravel path with my pencil heels, but they look so hot on my feet that it's worth it.

When I reach the edge of the forest, I realize that the party is already in full swing. It seems like the whole village is out and about. Between patio heaters, atmospherically lit garlands, and colorful ribbons, Hanna is pouring shots onto a tray. The smell of grilled food makes my mouth water. The festive mood of the guests reaches me, as does the lively music. It's not entirely to my taste, but it puts everyone in a good mood, and a glance at the sun terrace adorned with colorful ribbons tells me it's a great place to dance.

I march toward the celebrating group. Inevitably, I search for Noah, but I can't find him or his girlfriend anywhere. Just to be sure, I even look away from the guests. Maybe they're hiding in a dark corner, whispering sweet nothings to each other. But no matter how attentively I search, I don't see them. Thank goodness.

"Elina!" Hanna has spotted me and waves at me.

I hurry over to her. Even before I reach the well-laid table around which the guests have gathered, dozens of eyes scrutinize me. And a second later, I understand why.

No one here has dressed up for the occasion. The others are wearing everyday clothes. Occasionally, I spot a traditional jacket with jeans or a collar peeking out from under a roughly knitted sweater, but that's about it.

"People, this is Elina," Hanna takes the lead in speaking for me. "She's our new doctor, so be nice to her." She grins, handing me a shot glass.

Everyone laughs, and I can't help but grin as well. I raise my hand in greeting and look into the friendly faces. I even recognize some of them from the clinic.

There's the woman with conjunctivitis whose eyes look perfectly fine today, and the man who recently came with his son.

I take a step toward him. "Hello, Hans. How's your little one doing?"

"The rash is almost gone," he replies, clinking his glass against mine.

"I'm glad to hear that." I clink my glass against his and down it in one gulp. The clear liquid burns my throat, making me cough.

"It seems our Dr. Elina still needs some practice," I hear a woman's voice from the group, followed by approving laughter.

Grinning, I present my empty glass. "Well then, fill me up," I say because I simply can't help it. This is the first evening since my arrival here that I spend with people. The first party in two far too long and far too quiet weeks.

In the coming hours, I savor every moment. I sample Hanna's apple strudel, drink friendship at least three times with each villager, and lose five times in that game where you have to hammer a nail into a wooden stake using the narrow side of the hammer. Shots and beer flow abundantly, and the music becomes more exuberant, just like my mood. And when Hanna's boyfriend, Florian, asks me to dance, I can't be stopped anymore.

I have no idea how this folk dance works, but I don't care. Amused and giggling, I hook my arm through his and stumble toward the dance floor.

"Are you ready?" he asks, looking at me expectantly.

I nod. "Let's do it."

Florian places his hand on my hip and pulls me close with a strong tug. He spins me around, and the garden, along with the party decorations, whirls around me at a dizzying speed.

This is insane. A loud scream escapes my mouth as my dance partner spins me faster and faster. In no moment since I arrived here have I felt so alive. The hustle and bustle and the exuberant atmosphere overshadow the almost suffocating silence that usually reigns in this village.

It should always be like this.

I enjoy the dance, which ends too quickly. "One more time," I demand of Florian when the music momentarily stops.

At that very moment, I spot a woman behind his shoulder. I would recognize that head of curls among thousands, even if I were three times as drunk as I am now.

"I'm sorry. The remaining dances are reserved for my sweetheart," Florian says from a distance.

"Of course." I nod as I scan the guests one by one. If his girlfriend is here, Noah can't be far away. Yet I don't spot him.

Together with Florian, I stumble away from the sun terrace-turned-dance floor. I should eat something, so I weave my way through the guests to the buffet, grab a thick slice of bread heavily topped with cheese, and take a satisfying bite.

"Hello." Suddenly, Miss Curls stands so close to me that our upper arms touch. The bite almost gets stuck in my throat. Chewing vigorously, I smile shyly at her.

She places her beer glass next to the serving plates on the table, and I notice the emblem of the mountain rescue team on her jacket sleeve. "You're Elina, right?"

Her smile is open and has something so warm-hearted that I can't help but find her likable. "And you're Noah's girlfriend," I reply because it's better to face it head-on, no matter how painful the pang in my chest is when I utter the words Noah's girlfriend.

She extends her hand to me. "I'm Anita. Nice to meet you under more relaxed circumstances."

If there was a last spark of hope in me that all of this could be a misunderstanding, it just extinguished. I feel a heaviness in my entire body, and even my mouth corners refuse to stay up.

"Thank you for your help with Noah's injury. He can be very... "

"Stubborn?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "And trust isn't his strong suit either. I've noticed that."

She shrugs, her gaze becoming wistful. "It's no wonder given what..." She pauses mid-sentence. "Never mind," she suddenly says. "What do I know? I shouldn't judge him or what happened. After all, we're just colleagues."

"Just colleagues?" My presumably very noticeable alcohol level loosens my tongue. "So you mean you're not...?" It slips out of me.

"My God, no." With a hearty laugh, she shows me her right hand. A slim gold ring adorns her ring finger. "Besides, he doesn't let anyone get close to him anymore." Melancholy seeps into her voice.

"Why is that?" I probably shouldn't ask, but I'm burning to learn more about this rough-edged man.

Anita places her hand on my forearm. "You'd better ask him yourself," she says meaningfully, lowering her eyes.

"I will," I murmur absentmindedly. So my intuition was right. When I treated his wound, I already knew he needed help.

I can give him that help. And there would be nothing more beautiful than doing so.

Think of the firefighter , Maya's voice whispers in my mind.

"As his doctor, of course," I say, more to myself than to Anita.

His follow-up appointment, including a discussion of his blood test results, is scheduled for next Thursday. I will sit across from him, look into his eyes with concentration, and not give up until I know what's wrong with him. It's a good thing he insisted on having the last appointment at the end of the opening hours. That way, we'll have enough time. Hopefully, he will open up to me because one thing is clear: Whatever problem has a hold on him, I want to make sure he gets rid of it.

As his doctor. Of course.