Somewhere to Dream (Berkley Sensation)

by Graham, Genevieve

  “So you’re all better now?”

  I was relieved to see the sparkle dance in her eyes and know it wasn’t just a trick of the fire.

  “I’m pregnant,” she blurted, her face shining with joy. “Almost four months, we think.”

  My stunned glance went reflexively to her belly, then back to her eyes. She wore a long homespun gown under a stained white apron, and I could see no telltale bulge. Not yet, anyway. But her hands dropped, fingers spread like a protective fence around the tiny inhabitant. Pregnant? I supposed I shouldn’t have been so surprised, considering how much she and Andrew loved each other. It was just that it seemed so . . . unexpected, I guess. Like she’d moved to a new level without me. Again.

  Despite the shock, I was thrilled for her. “Oh, Maggie!” She was close enough to hug, so I leaned in and squeezed her tight. I felt nothing different about her physically, save the fact that her breasts pushed a little harder against me, so I assumed they were growing at least. The rest of her seemed smaller, not larger, and I realized she really had been ill.

  “I’m going to be an aunt,” I said, smiling against her. “That’s the most wonderful thing I’ve heard . . . in at least two hours.”

  That was cruel and unfeeling. I hadn’t meant to say that. And yet her eyes opened, the smile replaced by a look of curiosity. “Oh? What could be more wonderful than that?”

  “I’m in love,” I said quietly.

  That surprised her. Her jaw opened, only slightly wider than her eyes. “What?”

  I gave her a half smile and shrugged. “I guess I am. He loves me. He told me a few hours ago.”

  “Who is it? Not Soquili, surely. Adahy? Tsiyi?” She took another big bite of the bread, and I was glad to see she seemed to have recovered her appetite.

  “Actually,” I said, grinning wryly. “He’s the one I’m supposed to be in love with, so it all works out.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  It was so strange to me that she even had to ask. Her whole life she’d known all the answers, never needed to ask anything. In the beginning, it had been dreams, visions, things she saw when she let herself drift into what I called the “half-place.” Not awake, not sleeping. Maggie had always known how to find that place. And after she’d met Wah-Li, it became so easy for her that she could simply close her eyes and just . . . know. She could speak with animals. She could cry out silently and speak to people’s minds. I tilted my head, studying her right back. It must have been odd for her, too, not being able to see what I was thinking. The gift she’d hated for most of her life, then valued, but never had to do without.

  “Maggie, hold my hand.” She did. “Now,” I said, “tell me what I’m talking about.”

  She didn’t even try, though I thought I saw regret when she shook her head. “I’m too tired, Addy. I’m trying to do the opposite. Trying to close my eyes to everything around me but Andrew and the baby.”

  “You’re doing it on purpose?”

  “In the beginning, it was just because I couldn’t. Oh, I was so sick, I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t pull my weight around here, and of course everyone is needed.” She lifted one eyebrow and smiled sheepishly. “I was angry and terrible to be around, too. Andrew told me not to worry and tended me like I was a lame puppy.” She frowned. “I hated that. Hated feeling helpless. I . . . hated it so much I almost didn’t want the baby for a while.”

  I blinked, shocked. Why hadn’t she sent Andrew or Iain to get me? I would have taken care of her, would have helped with whatever needed doing. But Maggie had always been independent. And stubborn.

  “Does Wah-Li know?” I asked. She shook her head. “I’ll tell her,” I assured her, and she smiled. “Are you happy now? About having the baby?”

  She nodded. “It’s easier now. I’m not as sick these days, though I feel like I’ve been dragged behind a running horse for three months. Now, well, now I can get around and do things. Small things, of course, because Andrew won’t let me lift a finger, but at least I’m not just lying around.”

  “Wow,” I said quietly as the reality settled in. “You’re going to have a baby.”

  She squeezed my hand. “And you’re in love.”

  We let the flush of happiness die down and were quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts. Maggie gazed at the fire, her hands absently caressing the flat plane of her stomach. I stared into the flames, appreciating the warmth while I scrubbed my fingers through my hair, helping it dry. I was so tired. The heat was lulling, the sweet, warm bread filling the hole in my belly and encouraging me to seek sleep. I wanted to tell her all about the village, give her the news, share all the stories with her, but for now it seemed right just to be sisters.

  A thought struck me. “Maggie . . .” I mused. She glanced at me and lifted her eyebrows. “Have you thought about what this baby will be like? The child of you and Andrew? Two people with gifts no one else can imagine?”

  “Of course,” she said with a slow smile.

  The door opened and Andrew stepped inside, bringing with him the shushing of rain as it battered grass and leaves. The noise made me even happier to be warm and dry by the fire, and I snuggled deeper into the blanket. Andrew shook water off his coat and hair as if he were a big black dog, then latched the door behind him, leaving the room suddenly quiet again, with no sound but the occasional crack of the fire.

  It took him no more than three steps to reach her, to lean down and claim her lips. She was lost to me in that moment, so complete was their connection. I loved seeing that their affection for each other hadn’t weakened even the slightest. Every time I saw either of their expressions when the other entered a room, it was as if they hadn’t seen each other in ten years. It was so beautiful, that love. The unquestionable connection I knew was so rare.

  The connection I wanted more than anything in the world.

  “We’ll go to Iain’s for supper this eve,” Andrew said. I glanced up, and he smiled at me, the lines of his dark, handsome face soft with ease. “Aye, I told him ye were here as well, and he was right pleased to hear of it. Seems he and Seamus have had enough of waiting for last month’s deer to age. Your visit only encouraged them to make a meal of it.”

  It was understood I would stay at least one night. And though I ached to open up to Maggie, to somehow ask her for help, I also looked forward to an evening with these friends with nothing to worry about save how much I would eat. I lived day to day suspended between worlds, loving and hating both. When I spent too much time with one, I craved the other. This place was an escape for me. One where I didn’t have to live in constant division, trying to figure out where I fit. And yet I had chosen not to live there.

  The evening was close and raucous, the small pine room crowded with laughter and loud Scottish voices. The voices hushed with sorrow when I gave them the news they hadn’t heard from the village, telling them of Wahyaw’s death. I lightened the mood somewhat by recounting the story of the furious white man they’d adopted in his place, and Maggie shot me an inquiring look. I smiled briefly, as did she, knowing we’d speak more of it when we were just two sisters alone, behind a closed door. But by the time Maggie said it was time to go home, I could barely keep my eyes open.

  When he’d built the house, Andrew had constructed two bedrooms as well as the large front room. The second bedroom served as an extra, for anyone visiting. Sleeping in my own room gave me a luxury I had never known: privacy. As a child, I had shared a bedroom with my sisters, now I shared a council house with my Cherokee family. Being so alone was an odd feeling. I curled into the bed, pulling my knees against my chest, listening to the sounds outside my door. It seemed too quiet.

  A gentle knock on the door, then Maggie came in. I sat up, and she eased down on to the side of the bed, looking quietly at me.

  “You came here for a reason, Addy,” she said softly. “Don’t y
ou think we’ve put it off long enough?”

  CHAPTER 27

  A Sister’s Connection

  So I told her everything, despite the fact that both of us had been drooping from exhaustion five minutes earlier. I told her of Jesse. Of my initial fears and the dreams that had come to me before he ever had. That brought a thoughtful expression to her eyes. I admitted my instinct to flee, then the grudging friendship that had bloomed so rapidly between us. Her eyes glistened as I described him, though my confession shyly listed his faults along with his better points. I laughed, telling her the stories I had found infuriating in the past, like the way he was always so ready to fight the entire Cherokee nation to prove he was right. I told her Wah-Li’s name for him, and comprehension dawned in Maggie’s eyes. It was easy for her to visualize the wild side of him, the curious, up-front, enthusiastic man, the daring cougar with a mind that never stopped and eyes that suspected the world.

  She heard more than what I told her: she heard the need she’d once known herself. She felt my pain, then the embrace of relief when I’d realized someone loved me—and I could actually love him back.

  “But you’re here now,” she said quietly, settling herself onto the middle of my bed. “Not with him. Why?”

  “Because I had a dream. I had the most real vision I’ve ever had, and it scared me to death.”

  She sighed, looking sad. “You know you don’t need to be afraid of dreams, Addy. They—”

  I stopped her by putting up one hand. I didn’t want to hear that. I didn’t need her to look down on me, treat me as if I were a little girl again. I knew what I’d seen; I’d come a long way from when I couldn’t bear to think of the dreams. I couldn’t stop the harsh tone when it burst from my throat.

  “Like the dreams you had? Are you telling me you weren’t afraid that day? I saw you so many times when the dreams took over your mind, scaring the life out of you. I held you when you could barely breathe. When I had this dream today, it took over. It attacked the secrets I’d hidden away, the ones I’d never wanted to see again. But in this dream, I saw Jesse, and I saw that day, Maggie.” I broke down, sobbing. “I felt the men on me, Maggie! I heard them. I remember everything.”

  Maggie’s expression hadn’t changed, but she blinked and her eyes welled. This was new. Maggie didn’t usually cry. I instinctively wanted to apologize, to change the conversation, to step back into safe territory. But this was why I had come all the way out here. This was why I’d run from the only man I’d ever loved. Because I knew what I’d seen. I wasn’t going to let her tell me not to pay attention.

  I sniffed loudly and wiped my eyes with my arm. “But it’s not just that. There was something about the way that nightmare happened in the midst of another violent dream. There was another enemy, and Jesse was . . . Well, that’s why I’ve come. I need help, and I need the help that only you can give me.”

  Her expression was tired, her eyes liquid with regret.

  “But you can’t, can you?” I asked.

  I saw the battle going on behind those deep eyes of hers and felt horrible. I had no right to ask her for this. “It’s okay, Maggie,” I said. “I’m okay. I just wanted to talk with you and see—”

  “Okay,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I can help, though. I’m still so . . .” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, then let them fall. I could see her exhaustion, feel the weight of it just as she tried to cast it off.

  “Are you sure?”

  We stared at each other for what felt like a long time. Then she made up her mind and scrambled forward so she sat beside me on the bed, and we leaned back against the cool pine wall. She sighed.

  “What do you think, Addy? How do you want to do this?”

  I closed my eyes, fighting the panic that was starting to eat its way into my mind. “I want to try and bring that dream back. I want to show you Jesse, and I want to understand what I saw today. Like what we do with Wah-Li, you know? If you see the same thing, maybe you can tell me what it means. What I should do.”

  Trying to see each other’s dreams was something entirely new for both of us, but she nodded, ready to try. She closed her eyes in a deliberate manner, her mouth straight and inexpressive, the muscles in her face relaxed. Her hands lay at her sides, palms up, and I seized the one between us. Our fingers intertwined, and I closed my eyes, feeling the pull of her powers—though they were shadows of their former strength—and gratefully sank into whatever she could offer.

  I had done this—purposefully recalling my dreams—twice before: once with Wah-Li, once on my own. But I knew Maggie—or at least the Maggie who hadn’t been pregnant—had powers that could outshine even the wise woman of the Cherokee. I took a deep breath, prayed for strength, then dove into memories of my dream, bolstered by her support and by the knowledge that I was safe with her. Our connection, strong as an ancient oak, was solid and held us together. We stood side by side, more one person than two, inside the dream I conjured.

  The vision returned, the forest shadowed, sucked of air by the witnessing trees. Jesse lay bleeding and motionless. Then the face so much like his, aged and tinged with gray, his hands on me . . .

  Maggie tugged on me—not my hand or arm or body, but my heart. She sensed the threat and wanted to be away, to escape what I had warned her about. But I held her, forced her to stay. I needed to know—was what I saw real? If I could hold on to her, use her as an anchor, could I stay in the dream until its completion? Had Jesse and the Cherokee given me enough courage?

  On the other hand, if her perception of the dream changed from mine, maybe it had all been a mistake. I had never been able to control my dreams before. Maybe this had just been one of those times when I’d misinterpreted. God, I hoped it was.

  But the man’s hands on my throat were thick, calloused, and tightening. His teeth, yellowed over time but straight and bared. Words hissed through them, words I couldn’t hear but understood regardless. His eyes burned cold, gray metallic flames fueled by hate and lust. But that mouth was so familiar, the lips I had kissed . . .

  Stars flew in my head, and the earth beneath my feet dropped, melting into a black, bottomless pit. I couldn’t grab on to anything and couldn’t find Maggie. Thomas Black wasn’t alone anymore. The others were back, those men I’d thought gone forever. I was choking, my defences draining. When I could see no more, I could still feel hands on my tunic, the fingers demanding, rabid. I tried to wriggle free, but the hands only fought me harder. I screamed—

  The door slammed open, and Andrew was there, deep brown eyes wide with concern. “What is it?” he demanded. “Are ye all right?”

  Maggie had screamed, too. Our voices lingered like ghosts within the fragrant pine walls. Andrew waited for an answer, but I couldn’t speak. I was not all right, but I was alive and unharmed. And once again, I’d escaped the dream before it ended. Maggie held me while I shook. I felt her own small gasps, felt her tears and sweat, warm on my cheek.

  “There is a man coming,” she said to Andrew over my shoulder, then swallowed. Her tone, though interrupted by tiny sobs, was smooth and ethereal, as it was so often when she saw visions. She sounded as if she were still halfway in the dream world. I couldn’t see Andrew’s expression, but I knew he would believe every word she said. “He is coming for Addy. He must be stopped. He must be. You will know him, Andrew. He will seek her with a passion you cannot douse. He will hunt her through the eyes of a killer.”

  With her cheek pressed against mine, I felt her summon Thomas’s image in her mind, felt her reach out to Andrew. His thoughts reached toward her, taking the offering, reassuring and promising all in one breath. It was a strange and beautiful experience, being included in their intimate exchange.

  “Where is the devil?” he asked, his voice husky.

  She shook her head. She didn’t know. “The forest. Soon. A day? Two?”

  My eyes squeezed shut against th
e pain. Now I knew. She’d seen it just as I had, and it had frightened her. She’d seen the connection between the dreams. It was real.

  PART 4

  Jesse

  CHAPTER 28

  Another Protector

  Shouldn’t have left her. Godammit. Jesse pounded his fist against the council house wall with frustration. He would never, ever understand women. There he was, thinking he’d finally pulled it all together, had even told the girl he loved her.

  And he did love her. He did. Scared him how much he loved her. It was a foreign, terrifying feeling, knowing she was what he needed to complete who he was. He even felt slightly lost now that she was out of his reach. Bit by bit, little Adelaide the Mouse had become the most important thing in his world. Having her in his arms had felt like the first bite of fresh bread, the river on that scorching day with Soquili, the sight of a purple sunrise when the last of the clouds faded away. She had been soft and warm in his hands and had tasted like berries, her lips welcoming and giggling under his.

  Then it had stopped. She had sat up, stared at him as if he were a ghost, and run off. To make matters worse, she hadn’t come back like she’d said she would. She should have been back for supper, should have been there in the evening for him to share a fire with. She should have come back and let him kiss her again, let her soothe whatever crazy fears had taken over this time. She was a funny little thing, his mouse. And she needed him.

  But she hadn’t come back. Not that night, not the next morning. Jesse had stomped around the village, questioning everyone. No one had seen her. And no one really worried, because, well, these were Cherokee, and they damn well did what they damn well pleased, didn’t they? How was a man supposed to get any answers? Kokila was normally the one he’d go to, or Soquili, or even Soquili’s mother, Salali. But they all just shrugged.