Inside a kettle on the stove was steaming and a cup of hot tea was going to taste real good. Grabbing some wood from the pile outside the door she went inside and really looked around. It was a bit dusty and did need a good sweeping but regardless, the feeling of peace and security that flushed through her made those details go unnoticed.

Here life was on pause. Time was standing still. Everything could wait. He could wait.

She moved smoothly, the motions routine. Neatly storing the supplies and readying the space for her occupation. The stove was taking the chill off the room and the tea had warmed her from the inside. The bed was soft, covered with lots of old quilts and it called her name.

Sleep came quickly, her dreams loud and violent. Waking her several times until finally, before dawn she stopped fighting her demons and got up. After stoking the fire for the must have pot of coffee, she grabbed a quilt and headed to the porch. Curling up in the swing, she listened.

The sun was rising.