She resented his stern tone of voice, but of course he was righ
t. She nodded at him and wiggled herself out of his grip. “All right, I’m calm.”
“Let’s backtrack. You used the inhaler as you were leaving the cabin, correct?”
“As I was walking out the door for the final time. I know I replaced it in my handbag. I remember fumbling with the clasp because I had my gloves on. But even if I had accidentally left it behind, it would be in this room. We’ve been over every square inch of this cabin. It’s not here or one of us would have seen it.”
“Your handbag was slung onto the floorboard when your car struck the tree, remember?”
No, she hadn’t remembered that until now. “Of course.” She groaned. “The pouch must have fallen out then. It would have been on top of everything else because I’d just put it back in.”
“Then that’s the only logical explanation. When you pulled your purse from under the dash, did you check to see if the medicine bag was inside?”
“No. It didn’t occur to me to check for anything that might have spilled out. My mind was on our predicament.”
“Under normal circumstances, when would you next need the medication?”
“Bedtime. Unless I had an episode, in which case I would need one of my inhalers immediately.”
Tierney digested that. “Then we’ll just have to do everything we can to prevent an attack. What precipitates them? Besides breathing cold air. And, by the way, how in hell did you walk uphill, practically carrying me, without suffering an attack?”
“My medications work well to prevent them. If I use common sense and take my meds, I can do just about anything I want. Kayak in white water, for instance,” she added with a weak smile.
“But that walk up here nearly did me in, Lilly. How did you do it?”
“Maybe I was imbued with superhuman strength after all.” To let him in on the inside joke, she explained. “When you were lying in the road, and I was rushing to get the blanket and so forth, I wondered why I wasn’t experiencing the adrenaline rush people are supposed to get during a crisis situation.”
“Maybe you did and just didn’t realize it.”
“Evidently. Anyway, attacks are brought on by overexertion, certainly. Irritants like dust, mold, and air pollution. I’m pretty safe from all that up here, especially in the winter. But then there’s stress,” she continued. “It can cause an attack.
“After Amy died, I had frequent attacks from crying so much. They decreased over time, of course, but I should avoid becoming overwrought.” She gave him a smile that she hoped looked courageous. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. It probably won’t matter if I skip a few doses.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, then glanced at the door. “I’ll go back to the car and get it.”
“No!” She grabbed his sleeve and held on for dear life. Worse than not having her medication within reach would be not having it and suffering an attack while she was alone.
Soon after Amy’s death, she’d been seized by an attack during the night. The sound of her own wheezing had awakened her, and she began coughing up the most vile mucus. Her air passages were almost completely blocked by the time she inhaled the life-saving drug.
It had been a particularly scary episode because she had been alone. Dutch hadn’t come home that night. Nor had he called to tell her that he would be late. Having run out of flimsy excuses, he found it easier not to phone at all than to phone with a lying explanation.
She had eventually given up waiting for him and gone to bed. She remembered thinking later that it would have served him right if she hadn’t used her inhaler in time, or if it hadn’t been sufficient to clear her air passages, if he’d come home to find that she’d suffocated while he was with another woman.
Realizing she was still holding Tierney’s sleeve in a desperate clutch, she let go. “You couldn’t make it to the car and back without collapsing,” she said. “You’d be out there lost, frozen, or unconscious, and I’d still be here without my meds. We’d be worse off, not better.”
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I’m afraid you’re right. I’ll put off going until there’s no other choice.”
“If it comes to that, don’t go without telling me.” She was ashamed of the emotion welling up inside her, but it was vitally important to her that he understand this. “I’ve lived with asthma all my life, but a severe attack is still a terrifying experience. I’m comfortable with being alone as long as my emergency inhaler is within reach. But it’s not. I don’t want to wake up gasping for air and find myself here alone, Tierney. Promise me.”
“I promise,” he vowed softly.
A log in the fireplace shifted, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. Lilly turned away from him and knelt on the hearth to stir the embers beneath the iron grate.
“Lilly?”
“Hmm?” When Tierney didn’t respond, she turned her head. “What?”
“How would you feel about sleeping together?”