Page 17 of Ghosts From Christmas Past

He passed a smile between Dylan and Jesse before leaving them.

Dylan ran a hand over his eyes. “I had no idea her reaction would be so volatile.”

“Brother, as hard as it is, you can’t take the pain away. It’s gonna hurt bad to relive what happened to her parents and to her.”

Dylan smiled at his friend. Jesse was always there for him. “I know, but this is Charlie.”

Jesse grinned. “Yeah. This is Charlie.” His expression sobered. “Did she say anything about what she’d remembered that caused such a violent reaction?”

Dylan shook his head. “No, she just started screaming.” He glanced at Jesse. “I’ve never been so scared before.”

Jesse clamped his shoulder. “Well, brother, it’s going to be hard for her. For you. For all of us. But she needs you to be strong.”

When he’d pictured her memories returning, Dylan had imagined them gradually falling into place and then at some point, everything would be okay. He’d arrest the perp, and he and Charlie would live happily ever after. After what he’d experienced in there, nothing could be further from the truth. Memories would return with horrific and violent results, and it would take all the strength he could muster to protect her.

“Sheriff, you there?” Stella’s voice came through the radio on Dylan’s jacket.

He pressed the talk button. “I’m here, Stella. What do you have?”

“A multi-car accident past the curve on River Road. Sam’s on his way there now.”

“Let me handle the call,” Jesse told him. “You stay with Charlie.”

Dylan was happy to accept Jesse’s help on this one. He was still shaking in reaction to watching the woman he loved having to relive the worst day of her life. “Thanks.” Then Dylan relayed the message to Stella.

“Hang in there, buddy. I have a feeling this is just the beginning.” With those prophetic words, Jesse left the building.

Dylan returned to Charlie’s room and watched her while she slept. The photo she’d been looking at that caused such a dramatic reaction still lay on the bed. He picked it up and stared at it. He’d seen it and the rest of the information in the file a dozen times at least. What was it about this one? For him, it was the hardest one to look at because it reminded him of finding her. The contrast of the blood on the white carpet had only intensified his reaction. He’d called for help, yet it felt as if it took forever for them to arrive.

He reached for her hand and held it. Felt the warmth of life flowing through her veins and let the ugliness go. Charlie was alive. God had given them a second chance, and he was going to do everything in his power never to let anything break them apart. Not even the past.

Chapter Five

Charlie slowly opened her eyes and struggled to come out of the fog. Someone held her hand. She glanced toward the chair where Dylan sat with his eyes closed. Her heart went out to him. His six-foot frame looked uncomfortably cramped in the chair. He’d been here since—? Charlie remembered the photo. The terror that had overcome her as she could almost imagine the knife slicing her flesh. She must have made some sound because Dylan woke up. Saw the terror on her face and gathered her in his arms.

The photo was nowhere in sight, yet the nightmare it invoked wouldn’t leave her. “I could almost feel the knife.” She touched her throat where the feel of the scar was a reminder of how close to dying she’d come.

“I shouldn’t have showed you those photos. They’re hard enough for someone accustomed to seeing them.”

He blamed himself, and she wouldn’t let him. Charlie pulled away. “No. As frightening as it was, I’m grateful that you did. It helped me remember something. I remembered the killer wore gloves. I can almost see his face. You helped me,” she stressed.

He still didn’t appear convinced. “I was so scared for you.”

She touched his face. “I know, but I’m okay. Iwillbe anyway. And I’m so ready to remember my life, even what happened that day because it’s part of me.” As she stared into his eyes, the tenderness on his face reminded her of . . . Before her brain could claim the memory, Dylan leaned closer. There was just enough time to pull in a breath before his lips touched her, unleashing feelings she didn’t understand, but they felt right.

Someone cleared their voice, and she and Dylan broke apart, smoothing their clothes.

A deputy she hadn’t met before stood in the doorway. “Sorry, boss. I came to relieve you. Seems you’re needed at the accident scene.” Color crept up the man’s face.

Dylan quickly rose. “Thanks, Sam.” He turned back to Charlie. “This is Deputy Sam Crenshaw. He’ll be stationed outside your room in case you need anything.”

The deputy nodded her direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He shifted toward Dylan. “I’ll be outside.” Without waiting for a response, Deputy Crenshaw disappeared, and Charlie struggled to think of something to say to this man who had made her feel again.

Dylan chuckled, and Charlie shot him a look. He held up a hand. “I should be embarrassed to be caught kissing you in front of my deputy, but I’m not.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek this time. “I’d better go. Sam’s a good guy, so if you need anything or just want some company, he’s right outside your room. I’ll check in with you later.” He left the room, spoke briefly to his deputy, and then he was gone, but the way he made her feel didn’t go away.

She loved him.Hadloved him at the time of the attacks. Still loved him.

He’d spent eight years at her side because he still cared about her.

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