Drawn to Troubled Waters

Chapter 10: The Sketch

         My steps slow as I approach the open ridge trying to detangle dogwood blossoms from my hair. I keep my eyes trained on the sky. Bright and blue. In my dreams there are always storm clouds. Gray and ominous.

         I rub my fingers slick with sweat and try to take normal breaths. Now that I’m standing here alone, there is sound from the  river below . It’s a gentle gurgle of water, tripping perhaps on the occasional rock.

         I close my eyes and listen, wanting the sound to be soothing, to rock me like a lullaby, but it has more of a light rock beat that echoes my pounding heart. The noise gets louder and it feels as if it is rushing up around my ears. I can do this. I can do this. It’s just a bridge: a man-made thing of wood.  One eye opens slowly. The sky is still blue; the clouds still fluffy white.

         One deep breath, allows me to draw courage from the ether. I stare down at the bridge. Mesmerized in the moment I take my first step forward.

         My artist’s eye takes over. Heavy beams create an outside structure of a familiar bridge. There are no fancy steel rivets or colored metal. Smaller pieces crisscross the inner structure causing a juxtaposition of the two. I can’t see the boards but judging from here I am guessing they are wide, solid planks. It’s a sturdy, solid bridge. Nothing to be afraid of.

         A bounce of light on the river captures my attention. The blue-grey tinge of the water moves lazily along the banks. I follow the path of a single leaf as it meanders through the current, taking its time to float under the bridge and out of my sight. Through my artist’s eye there is serenity in this scene. My fingers ache with the need for a piece of charcoal.

         I become so caught up in my mental sketching I don’t even hear Sawyer pushing through the underbrush. His hand on my shoulder provokes the tiniest of screams.

         He steadies me with both hands. “Oh, hey. I didn’t mean to scare you. You were taking a while and I got a little worried.”

         I can only nod as I take some cleansing breaths to still my panicking heart. When it’s back to a normal rhythm I turn and slap at his chest. “Jesus, you scared the crap out of me!”

         I glance over, expecting laughter and that dimple but his face is smooth with concern. “I’m sorry. I just… you were so freaked out before. I got worried.”

         “Yeah, you mentioned that before. I was just sketching, that’s all.”

         He looks at me with a mixture of both puzzlement and ‘she’s really gone ‘round the bend.’ “Sketching? You didn’t bring any paper?”

         I tap my temple. “Up here. Sometimes I just get so caught up in something I start sketching it out in my head. It helps sometimes, especially if I get a real chance to study something. And when it comes to bridges, it sort of takes my mind off the fear.”

         He nods. “Makes sense.” He looks down at the view. “It is rather picturesque from here I guess. Does this mean you’re okay with taking this assignment? ‘Cause if you backed out now, I think everyone would understand.”

         Somewhere along the line his hands have begun to rub my back in soothing circles. There is comfort, but also those damn tingles. What is it about this man? For the briefest of seconds I wonder what his touch would be like on my bare skin.

         His hand pauses. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can feel you’re heart racing.”

         I turn slightly towards him trying like hell to keep some goofy look off my face. “That has nothing to do with my fears.” Not my fear of the bridge anyways. I’m beginning to feel a little afraid of how quickly my desire for him is overtaking my thoughts.

         I can almost see the light bulb go off over his head. “Oh. Ooohh.” He removes his hands and steps away. He looks down to the ground sheepishly.

         The loss is instant and feels as if he’s pulled off all the blankets and left me shivering in the cold. I’m almost sorry I said anything. I suppose any other woman would have played up the fear and been in his arms in a heartbeat. I don’t play those kinds of games.

         I turn my attention back to the river so the urge to throw myself at him doesn’t get any stronger. I am not some horny teenage kid. And speaking of teenage kids.

“It’s awfully hot today. Wouldn’t this be the perfect place to cool off? I mean where are the kids? Even being a city girl I know kids like bridges and water. And it’s not far from town. This place should be swarming with teens at least. Didn’t you ever jump off the bridge on an extra sticky day?”

          A look of complete horror ripples across his face. His voice has my father’s tone when he’s giving me a lecture about the evils of life.  “Nobody jumps off the Tallahatchie Bridge. It might look real calm down below but the undercurrent is something fierce here. If you don’t break your fool neck from the jump, the water will take you right under and never let you back up.”

         A shiver runs up my spine. The dream comes crashing back over me like waves: small at first and then larger and larger. I suck in air and try to rise above them. There is intense pressure in my chest and my world tilts sideways.  Closing my eyes makes it worse; muddy water flickers across my eyelids and I swear I can taste the metallic tang of river water on my tongue. They flare open.

         Sawyer is there. He’s got me in a light embrace, one arm around my waist and the other soothing my temple. “Sshh, it’s okay. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you again.”

         Somehow he manages to get us both back into the meadow. By this time my panic attack is gone and all I’m aware of his sturdy presence. He holds me a moment longer and then steps back.

         “You okay now?”

         I nod, swiping at tears along my cheeks that weren’t there a moment ago. As much as my hand is craving a pencil, all my mind wants is a distraction. I’m pretty sure my legs will carry me back to McAllister House. Then I can collapse. “Yeah, but I think I’ve had enough for one day.”

         He leans over to pick up the picnic hamper. “Yeah, I think we both have. I just… just promise me Bobbi. Promise you won’t go out to the bridge alone. It can be dangerous.”

         Of that I had no doubt. As we begin to walk away I cast a glance over my shoulder. There were secrets out there. On that bridge and definitely in the water beneath.