Page 35 of When I Forgot Us
But she loved it here, she argued back.
The fingers between hers squeezed, drawing her away from the horrifying train of thought and back to the present.
Pink and purple covered the horizon. Small gray clouds turned midnight blue, and the world seemed to stop and hold its breath at the gorgeous display. If she ever doubted God existed, or that he loved her, all she had to do was stop and look at the sky. Only a loving Creator could make something so beautifully terrifying that made her feel safe and yet small all at the same time.
“What are you thinking?” The man’s voice trickled into her exposed ear. It came from far away, or like it traveled underwater.
The edges of her vision blurred. She strained toward him, a ‘no’ tearing from her lips. She sat straight up in bed, heart in her throat and vision swimming with the absence of color. Tears burned and blurred the rest of her vision. She dashed them away with her sleeve and threw the covers off from her legs.
Thick carpet nestled against her toes, and the prickling sensation left her skin cold and pebbled in goosebumps. She buffed her arms and swung her housecoat over her shoulders while making her way to the window.
A single streetlight offered a view of the playground, everything still and silent this time of night. Her spine shuddered so hard her bones crackled. “Dream or memory?”
The thudding pulse tempted her to believe in memory. How would her mind know to conjure just intensity. She’d admitted she loved someone. Her hands shook, so she shoved them into the soft pockets and paced the room. Yvonne promised that it wouldn’t be a problem when Michelle admitted to the late-night activity.
She always thought better on her feet.
Who was the man in her dream/memory?
Chase came to mind. The voice was similar, but she’d not heard him clearly enough to be sure. And the sun had blocked her vision. But it all made sense. How she felt now, the pull of the dream/memory. Not to mention the hat.
She could ask him. Her phone sat on the nightstand, fully charged and ready. The debate of whether he’d tell her caused her to waffle.
Emotions surged. All the love she’d felt in the dream/memory assaulted her at once. She crashed onto the edge of the bed and snatched up her phone. A text message flew from her fingers, nothing more than a quick request to come to the ranch right now, and she tapped SEND before giving herself time to think better of it.
The time flashed when she moved away from the text screen.
Four a.m. Good chance Chase was up and already in the barn. The first rays of daylight had yet to make an appearance. She checked the window again. Correction. A single ray of orangish light pierced the darkness.
Her phone pinged, and everything else fell away as she read the message from Chase that told her of course she could come to the ranch. He asked if anything was wrong, but there was no good way to tell him about the memory except in person.
Half an hour later, she almost ran into his arms when she crossed into the barn.
He waited for her with feet spread apart and arms halfway up to catch her.
“I’m okay.” She answered the unspoken question.
“No one who runs in here like that is okay.” He guided her over to the bales of hay they often used for seats and helped her settle onto one. “What happened?”
Was it her or did he sound scared? Sitting beside him, she second-guessed the conversation. How did she even begin when the dream had been a vivid exhortation of her being in love?
“I had another dream.” She tested the slow approach with careful words. “And I think it might have been a memory, but I was asleep, so it’s also a dream.”
Confusion knit his brow, then smoothed. “Tell me.”
“It’s…complicated.” That didn’t begin to cover the truth of it, but it gave him warning. Hay prickled her spine through her t-shirt, and she reached back to remove the offending piece. She twirled it around her fingers, focusing on the wispy blur instead of on Chase’s expression. “I was with a guy. I’m not sure how long ago. We were sitting in the back of a truck, on the tailgate.” Not unlike how she’d sat with Chase several days ago.
Why did she expect Chase to know if this was a real memory? Her dry lips cracked, and she dug her lip balm from her jeans pocket.
Chase waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he removed his hat, hung it on his knee, and leaned his head back against the hay. “Was there anything distinct about the dream?”
She raised her eyebrows and asked, “Like what?”
One shoulder lifted and fell. “What did you talk about? Location? Anything that gives me a reference.” He picked his own piece of hay, but instead of twirling it, he wrapped it around his finger in a series of loops. “Did you recognize the guy?”
“No.” Not exactly. “This is crazy. Why would I expect you to know every memory that comes back to me?” She started to stand.
Chase grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Because you trust me to tell you the truth. To do that, I need the full truth from you. What aren’t you telling me?”
