Page 42 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

Daniel took notice and reached out to bring her closer. “You’ve given this some thought. I can tell.”

She took the plate and set it down on the porch before scooting closer and curling into his side. “It’s only fair that you should know this phobia about water is real for me. You can spend as much time as you want on your boat. It’s fine by me. As long as you understand that for me it’s not an option.”

“That sounds so definitive.”

“It’s not a declaration of war. It’s a statement of fact. I need everything about it on the table so there’s no confusion down the road.”

Feeling like he was about to step into a minefield, Daniel took the uncomplicated way out. He glanced at his watch. “Let me help you with the dishes before I head back to work.”

“Don’t worry about the dishes. Take care of your ice cream. Come back here when you’re done.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Their lips met in a tender kiss. “Give me thirty minutes.”

“You’re on the clock. Hurry back.”

Rowan finished putting away the leftovers and loading the dishwasher around ten. But when Daniel hadn’t returned, she decided to change out of her dress and into something more comfortable—a silky camisole set in sexy black. Instead of crawling into bed, though, she decided to wait for him on the couch. With a chill in the air, she grabbed a blanket off the bed and headed into the living room, where she got comfortable on the sofa, curling into the softness of the pillow cushion.

She drifted off to sleep within minutes.

The dream started pleasant enough—visions of paint colors swirled in her head—sent down from DIY homeowner heaven. She saw fresh paint on the walls, envisioned bringing the hardwood floors back to life and adding little touches throughout the house unique to her. In the dream, every room had undergone a redo. Like the kitchen, the bathroom had gone through an upgrade with a gleaming walk-in shower, the kind depicted in magazines. The toilet sparkled and no longer made noises. She’d added new storage in the hallway. The linen closet had ample room for sheets and towels instead of the narrow twelve-inch afterthought it was now. Every room had lost its musty odor and now smelled like magnolias or maybe orange blossoms.

After breathing a sigh of relief that upgrading had been this easy, the mood shifted. She was no longer in the house. A nasty storm had blown in before nightfall. As the wind howled, the rain beat down on her face. Then she was rocking back and forth, the boat beneath her feet creaked and groaned. Surrounded by black water, panic snuck into every part of her soul. As her throat closed, her heart pounded in her chest. She realized she couldn’t catch her breath. She tried to scream, but the crashing waves battering the boat drowned out her voice.

The water level grew higher.

And then, there was no boat. She was in the water. She could feel the ice-cold seeping into her clothes, chilling her to the bone. Freezing and shivering now, her limbs felt too heavy to move, as if weighed down by invisible chains. She tasted chlorine. Her heart raced. Her breathing came in short, panicked bursts.

Darkness enveloped her.

Rowan’s mind raced with fear and desperation. Clenching her teeth, she tried to claw her way out, but everywhere she looked, the waves were vicious reminders that she was trapped with nowhere to go. Twisting steel fingers wrapped around her neck. Floundering, she tried to grab for anything to hold onto.

As she went under for a final time, the scene jumped. She felt herself floating, lifted up by a strong pair of arms. When her vision cleared, she saw a man with dark hair and intense blue eyes.

From a distance, she heard him calling her name over and over again.

“Rowan, wake up. Rowan, you’re okay. I’m here now. You’re okay. It’s Daniel.”

Her eyes fluttered open. When she realized she was no longer drowning, that there was no water, her entire body relaxed. She was no longer on the sofa but huddled in the corner of the room on the cold floor, shaking and shivering like a scared rabbit.

“I came in here and found you hugging your knees to your chest. You looked terrified. Like a cornered animal. Scared me half to death. You had your eyes clenched so tight it looked as if you were praying for a miracle. I wasn’t sure if you were having a nightmare or were already awake from it.”

“It was a nightmare,” she murmured, her throat raw from shouting.

“About drowning, right? You were screaming your head off and muttering something about the water.”

“I tasted chlorine. I can still taste it in my mouth.”

“Chlorine? As in a swimming pool? I thought you were screaming because you were on a boat and had fallen overboard.”

“Maybe. I don’t want to think about it. Was I screaming loud enough that the neighbors could hear?”

“Yeah. That’s when I decided, asleep or not, you needed my arms around you. You’re never supposed to wake up a sleepwalker, but—”

Disoriented, Rowan sat there with her head in her hands. “I’m glad you woke me up, got me out of the dream.”

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