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Authors: Jan Springer
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tightened around her waist as he gazed lovingly into her eyes. “I love you, Sara. I love you so much I could die.”
A tremendous jolt shook them both and suddenly Jack tensed in her arms. Then he was falling. Blood pouring from a bullet hole between his eyes. Sara screamed. And screamed.
Sara awoke in a cold sweat and alarm rippling along her nerves. A frosty sense of foreboding settled over her, making her shiver in the gray light of dawn.
The horrible dream was back.
Please , she prayed, wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Don’t let the dream start again. Don’t let it start!
—
Sara spent the entire day trying to forget the horrible nightmare as she busied herself with getting together some more orders of peppermint products for the general store in town. The locals may think she was crazy, but it didn’t prevent them from buying her products.
Late in the morning, Tom woke to eat a hearty bowl of vegetable soup and a huge chunk of her homemade bread then drifted off into his nightmare-infested dreams once more. By late evening he looked halfway healthy.
His eyes burned bright with curiosity and his stomach was eager to chow down another bowl of vegetable soup, some mashed potatoes and Jell-O. Despite her protests and warnings that it may still be too heavy on his stomach, he managed to finagle a huge chunk of pound cake out of her.
She stood at the foot of his bed enjoying the way he wolfed down the last bite of his second helping. It was then she decided to ask the one nagging question she’d been dying to ask.
“Who gave you the note with my name on it?”
He stopped chewing and threw her a suspicious look.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Sara said, suddenly feeling guilty. “I was just looking for some identification. I found the note in your pocket.”
He nodded. “I guess I’d do the same.”
“Do you remember anything as to why someone would send you here?”
Disappointment coursed through her as he shook his head. “No. The note is the only clue I have. I don’t even know if it has anything to do with me. I might have picked it up somewhere.”
“I might have an idea.”
At her comment, his head snapped up so quickly that he winced in pain, but his eyes shone with eager anticipation.
“But you aren’t going to like it,” she added.
He frowned. “Tell me anyway. Anything’s better than having this horrible blank spot in my brain.”
“While you were delirious you said things.”
“Things?” he asked cautiously.
“You gave me the impression the police don’t have a high opinion of you.”
He frowned and her heart ached for him. “You may as well just say it. I’m a criminal.”
“I see you’ve already come to that conclusion.”
She came around to the side of the bed and sat down. “Any ideas you’d like to share?”
He nibbled thoughtfully on his lower lip as if trying to decide if he should tell her something.
“Mrs. Clarke—”
“Sara.”
“Okay. Sara—” he tried a half-concerted smile “—I’m afraid I might be dangerous to you. I mean by the way I attacked you with the gun.” He hesitated for a moment then continued. “And I’ve also had dreams. Dreams where I’m doing illegal things like paying off pimps and buying drugs and—”
“I know.”
The look of surprise on his face made Sara laugh. “Like I said, you’ve been talking in your sleep. From what I can guess, I think you might have been sent here to get help from my father-in-law. He’s a criminal defense lawyer and my sister is a private investigator. We can ask her to investigate what happened to you.”
A frightened look shot across his face. Then all too quickly it vanished and he promptly tried to change the subject.
“Are your father-in-law and your husband away on business?”
“Actually he doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Your husband?”
“Garry. My father-in-law.” She opted not to mention her husband. Maybe if he thought she had a husband he
A tremendous jolt shook them both and suddenly Jack tensed in her arms. Then he was falling. Blood pouring from a bullet hole between his eyes. Sara screamed. And screamed.
Sara awoke in a cold sweat and alarm rippling along her nerves. A frosty sense of foreboding settled over her, making her shiver in the gray light of dawn.
The horrible dream was back.
Please , she prayed, wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Don’t let the dream start again. Don’t let it start!
—
Sara spent the entire day trying to forget the horrible nightmare as she busied herself with getting together some more orders of peppermint products for the general store in town. The locals may think she was crazy, but it didn’t prevent them from buying her products.
Late in the morning, Tom woke to eat a hearty bowl of vegetable soup and a huge chunk of her homemade bread then drifted off into his nightmare-infested dreams once more. By late evening he looked halfway healthy.
His eyes burned bright with curiosity and his stomach was eager to chow down another bowl of vegetable soup, some mashed potatoes and Jell-O. Despite her protests and warnings that it may still be too heavy on his stomach, he managed to finagle a huge chunk of pound cake out of her.
She stood at the foot of his bed enjoying the way he wolfed down the last bite of his second helping. It was then she decided to ask the one nagging question she’d been dying to ask.
“Who gave you the note with my name on it?”
He stopped chewing and threw her a suspicious look.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Sara said, suddenly feeling guilty. “I was just looking for some identification. I found the note in your pocket.”
He nodded. “I guess I’d do the same.”
“Do you remember anything as to why someone would send you here?”
Disappointment coursed through her as he shook his head. “No. The note is the only clue I have. I don’t even know if it has anything to do with me. I might have picked it up somewhere.”
“I might have an idea.”
At her comment, his head snapped up so quickly that he winced in pain, but his eyes shone with eager anticipation.
“But you aren’t going to like it,” she added.
He frowned. “Tell me anyway. Anything’s better than having this horrible blank spot in my brain.”
“While you were delirious you said things.”
“Things?” he asked cautiously.
“You gave me the impression the police don’t have a high opinion of you.”
He frowned and her heart ached for him. “You may as well just say it. I’m a criminal.”
“I see you’ve already come to that conclusion.”
She came around to the side of the bed and sat down. “Any ideas you’d like to share?”
He nibbled thoughtfully on his lower lip as if trying to decide if he should tell her something.
“Mrs. Clarke—”
“Sara.”
“Okay. Sara—” he tried a half-concerted smile “—I’m afraid I might be dangerous to you. I mean by the way I attacked you with the gun.” He hesitated for a moment then continued. “And I’ve also had dreams. Dreams where I’m doing illegal things like paying off pimps and buying drugs and—”
“I know.”
The look of surprise on his face made Sara laugh. “Like I said, you’ve been talking in your sleep. From what I can guess, I think you might have been sent here to get help from my father-in-law. He’s a criminal defense lawyer and my sister is a private investigator. We can ask her to investigate what happened to you.”
A frightened look shot across his face. Then all too quickly it vanished and he promptly tried to change the subject.
“Are your father-in-law and your husband away on business?”
“Actually he doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Your husband?”
“Garry. My father-in-law.” She opted not to mention her husband. Maybe if he thought she had a husband he
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