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Another coughing fit took over, accompanied by lightheadedness. Not good.
In record time, Rory handed her the inhaler. His somber gray eyes studied her as she plopped onto the porch steps. Gasping, she pressed on the spray button, inhaling from the nebulizer. As the medicine took effect, her oxygen-starved lungs relaxed, and breathing became easier.
Rory sat beside her on the steps. His presence brought another level of comfort to her foggy mental state.
“I’m all right.” She spoke hoarsely. Her hair hung in a curtain around her shoulders. She’d loosened the braid after Tavo’s massage. The coughing fit had undone the rest. Embarrassment tugged at her. Her hands shook too much to pull it back. The brief lack of oxygen had robbed her of strength.
“Let me help.” Rory scooted behind her, brushing away her hands and gathering her hair. “Do you have a … what do you call it … a hair holder?”
A chuckle wisped from her dry throat as she slipped a band off her wrist and held it up. Her arms felt as if she’d worked out with heavy weights. The part of her that normally insisted on distance stayed silent. The mere act of breathing remained enough to keep her occupied in the present.
“Oh, that’s handy.” His strong fingers combed through her hair all the way to the split ends she’d meant to get trimmed. One of his knees brushed her side.
Rory’s hands stilled. She could almost feel his bafflement. “You don’t know how to do a ponytail, do you?” Thank goodness, her lightheadedness was receding.
“Nope. It can’t be hard.” Something she couldn’t place reverberated in his voice.
Darkness had fallen. More alert to her surroundings, Vi’s self-defense mechanism kicked in with vigor. She tried to rise, betrayed by her knees buckling.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Still sitting on the step above her, Rory’s arm anchored her waist to keep her upright. His cinnamon-y breath warmed her cheek.
Right here. Vi’s prickling skin had nothing to do with the cool breeze nipping the air. She snatched the elastic band from his fingers and tethered her hair. Good grief, she had to find her own space again. “Tell me about the issue while we walk.” Unfortunately, her rubbery legs picked that moment to imitate the lake water.
CHAPTER TEN
Rory’s arms held her steady, as he pointed to the inhaler she held. “Need to use it again?”
Drat! His presence had an uncanny way of making her forget the basics. She raised the nebulizer to her mouth, pumped, and inhaled. Her breathing improved immediately. “How did you know?”
Rory stood and descended the steps. “My younger brother had asthma. When we were outside, my job as the older brother was to make sure he didn’t get in a bind. Same with the Epi.”
Dismay washed over her as his words sunk in. Only an ingrained response. Duty. Any fanciful thoughts on her part that he might care beyond the job needed to stop.
Vi ached to trail around the lake, but the flare-up had taken a toll.
With a crooked grin, Rory took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Here. Lean on me. We’ll make it work, however slow you need to go.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “The lake is soothing.” Hanging on to his upper arm soothed her too. She pointed to a dirt path, leaning into him as they walked carefully down a slope. Dad had kept the scrub brush trimmed back. In his absence, gnarly limbs and new weed patches crowded the spacious walkway.
A quarter of the way around the lake, Vi’s breathing had returned to normal, yet Rory made no attempt to pull away. Still, this tiny respite couldn’t last. Calling on a strength she didn’t feel, she asked, “What’s going on with the house?”
“Termites.” He patted her arm, then untucked it from his elbow and turned away from her. Hands on his hips, he peered out over the silvery water.
It took a second to register. “Termites?” She’d heard of them, of course, but never in a positive light.
He met her gaze. His chest swelled and deflated when he exhaled. “Damage all along the back of the house. It’s a hidden problem. Once the woodwork gets torn into, then you find the damage.” His eyes held a wary look. “It’s an expensive fix.”
“How expensive?”
“Stud replacement, new flooring. It will run several thousand dollars.”
Vi gasped. “That much?”
Misery carved into his slow nod. In a low voice, he said, “I know you want to remodel the house. However, in light of this new problem, now might be the time to go a different route.”
What he didn’t say clamored for attention. “You mean sell.”
The slight incline of his head signaled his agreement. She looked away to the lake, her eyes seeing nothing. The advice to sell she’d heard before. Well-meant, maybe, but no. “Not what I want to do, Rory.”
