Page 8 of Chasing Dreams
There was too much risk involved.
Chapter 3
The sunset was spectacular; a panorama of reds and golds and ambers streaked with lavender that turned the trees and the countryside into a brilliant inferno of rustling color. The display ended much too soon, and with the sun went the afternoon’s warmth.
Shaine shook the tent out of its bag, laid out the poles and stakes and searched for the instructions. Another rustling in the underbrush alerted her to the approach of something or someone else. An Irish setter bounded into the clearing and headed for the house.
She stood slowly, staring in awe. She’d seen the dog before. In a dream. Much as the man before him had, the dog stalled at her presence. Any remaining doubts she’d had fled. His appearance confirmed the rightness of her being there.
The dog was obviously friendlier than the man, demonstrated in the way he came close to her camp area, his long nose sniffing the air.
“Can you smell if I’m a good guy or a bad guy?” she asked.
At that, the animal’s tail brushed the leaf-strewn ground, and he crouched, laying his chin on his forepaws, luminous brown eyes imploring.
“Do you live there?” she asked.
That must have been enough of an introduction, because he bolted forward and sat at her feet.
He sniffed her palm, gave her wrist a lick, and she scratched his whiskered chin.
Shaine chuckled. “You’re a lot friendlier than the last fella I met up here. I’ll probably get about as much information out of you, though.”
He made himself comfortable against her legs, and she brushed through his coat with her fingers, removing bits of twigs and leaves he’d picked up in the woods. After several minutes, he roused, gave her hand a parting lick and bounded toward the house and around the side out of sight.
Shaine missed the animal’s warmth. And his company. She turned back to the flexible poles and bright blue nylon fabric. Surely she was smarter than this tent. Too bad she’d thrown the box with the color picture away; seeing the finished product would have helped.
It would be completely dark before long; she didn’t have much time left to get in out of the night. Glancing toward the house, a movement at the window caught her attention. The dog grinned at her from behind the glass, and by the movement of his head and shoulders, she could tell his tail wagged. Though it felt a little silly, she waved.
A shiver rolled up her spine, and she scrounged through her duffel bag for a hooded sweatshirt to pull on beneath her jacket.
Okay, what was the worst thing that could happen?
She’d never get the blasted tent erected, a bear would ramble down from the hills and devour her. Worse than that? That this Allen fellow didn’t really live here after all. That she’d have to go back home no closer to finding any answers.
That unfriendly fellow in there had been willing—make that eager—to take her back to where she’d come from.
Why was he so opposed to merely answering her questions about the old man? The simple courtesy of a conversation would have gone a long way. His behavior struck her as curious.
A flash of light illuminated the fabric she slipped over the flexible aluminum poles, and the distant rumble of thunder followed.
Okay, rain would be a pretty depressing possibility, too. She blew on her cold fingers, staring at the tent she hadn’t made any progress on in the last twenty minutes.
Maybe the guy knew more than he wanted to tell. Maybe the old man was in there and this man was...was what? His nurse? She chuckled to herself. More likely his bodyguard. Or...his son?
Most likely.
She glanced up at the house, but the dog was gone. A warm glow shined through the window, leaving her with the same lonely ache she’d fought for the last year. She was alone. Completely, entirely, totally alone.
Her hands dropped to her sides and she stared off into the dark foliage. If a bear thundered out of those woods and ate her right now, the only person who’d eventually notice would be Maya Pruitt when the time came for her to have that baby, and Shaine wasn’t there to work the inn.
That jerk inside certainly wouldn’t care.
Oh, right. Feel sorry for yourself. She shook off the self-pitying thoughts and glanced around. Looking on the bright side, it would be too cold out here for her to sleep sound enough to dream. And if she did dream, it would be about grizzly bears or Bigfoot or the like. Something safe.
Digging through the other bag, she found her flashlight, shone it on her watch and remembered she had some cereal bars that she could eat without any work. She dug one out and ate it. A big glass of milk would go good with it. No, she corrected the thought, a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
She was feeling a little light-headed. Out of breath, too. She hoped the snack would help.
