Page 48 of The Inn Dilemma

“I love that idea,” Aunt Birdie says, coming to stand on the other side of Holt. “And you would be perfect for it.”

Holt’s humble smile warms me from the inside out.

“Thanks, Aunt Birdie.” He wraps his arm around her and gives her a side hug.

A soft rustle of leaves and then a light thump disrupts the sweet moment. I shift my attention to Titan, who looks up at a squirrel in a tree. The squirrel chucks an acorn right at Titan, then takes off through the trees as if it's starting a game of tag. Titan barks and chases after it, his tiny legs tearing through the woods. The forest here can be unpredictable with holes, ravines, and potentially even poachers’ traps. An almost maternal instinct kicks in, fear for Titan’s fate overriding any logic in my brain.

“Titan!” I shout, chasing after him.

“Nova, wait! There’s…” but I don’t catch Holt’s next words as I sprint after Titan.

“Titan, come!” I shout again, my legs pumping as fast as possible, not able to even see the quick, tiny dog.

A rustling of leaves sounds just ahead, then a thump, and finally a bark far different than any I’ve ever heard Titan release.

“Titan?” I call.

There’s a ravine ahead, but the momentum from my sprint doesn’t allow me to slow down enough to stop before I tumble down into the exact thing I feared Titan would fall into. Rocks, roots, and other forest debris scrape my arms, legs, and face as I continue my descent. I try to grab on to one of the roots sticking out of the wall of dirt to no avail. My head smacks against a providential pile of leaves as I finally come to a stop.

Titan barks from behind me. It’s not the sad bark from earlier, but a happy bark as he trots over and stares at me at eye level since my head is still on the ground. I lift it up and he gives my face a lick.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I mutter sarcastically.

“Nova!” Holt calls from above me.

“Oh, my goodness!” Aunt Birdie shrieks. “Are you injured?”

“Umm, I don’t think anything major, but...everything hurts.” I sit up and brush some of the dirt from my arms. Wiggling my legs and toes, I shout back up, “But it doesn’t feel like anything is broken.” My ribs ache with the effort I put in to call up to Holt and Aunt Birdie.

“I’m coming down to get you,” Holt says, already turning and getting ready to start his own descent.

“You can’t climb down that hill without help. You’ll tumble even faster than Nova. I’ll run back to the inn and get some supplies.” Aunt Birdie places her hand on Holt’s arm. She peeks over the edge. “Are you bleeding?”

I notice a few bleeding cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs. I wince as I look at the rather large cut on my thigh. My adrenaline must still be running high because I don’t feel that specific pain. “A little but not a ton. I’m sore but not seriously hurt.” Thank the Lord.

That’s all Aunt Birdie apparently needs to know because she’s power walking in the direction of the inn without saying anything else.

“Can you breathe okay? Are you sure nothing is broken? Is your vision blurry?” Holt asks.

Inhaling a deep breath, my ribs groan in protest. “I can breathe fine, my vision is normal, but my ribs hurt. I’m mostly unscathed outside of these cuts and what will probably turn into some nasty bruises.”

Holt paces back and forth at the top of the hole, running his hands through his hair almost obsessively. “I’m so sorry, Nova.” Then he looks over the side and scolds Titan. “You shouldn’t have run off like that. Look at what happened to Nova.” He motions to me.

Even from down here, I can hear Tootsie’s whimper before she shuffles to the opening and stares down at me and Titan. Tootsie and Titan may be two different breeds, but they are best friends, and it’s clear she’s concerned for him.

Holt paces at the top, hands behind his head, muttering to himself for I don’t know how long. I try to reassure him but he won’t stop blaming himself.

“I’m back!” Aunt Birdie announces.

Several clods of dirt roll down and hit me in the face and chest when the rope snakes its way down the side of the ravine. Aunt Birdie peeks over the side, huffing and puffing.

“Let me try this on my own,” I say to Holt, who looks like he’s ready to repel down the dirt wall.

“Do you think you can pull yourself up?” Aunt Birdie asks.

I inhale a deep breath and say, “Let’s see if Pilates muscles help in a real-life emergency.”

My joke falls flat.

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