She nodded slowly and turned to face Lenny. “Yes, I remember. Please tell me, Lenny. Did I say anything while I was dreaming?”
“Yes, you did. You screamed a lot, too,” Lenny replied. Something told him not to elaborate.
That’s it, Emily thought. He knows. Or he at least has an idea what’s happening. It’s now or never . . .
A part of Emily told her not to tell Lenny about the nightmares. But another part told her that she should. It was the same part that reminded her how safe and secure she felt when she was with him; and how grateful she was that he was there by her side this very moment.
“Can you take me home, Lenny? I have a lot to tell you,” she finally said.
Lenny gave her a confused look then replied, “Sure. Let’s go.”
Emily suddenly threw her arms around his neck and held him close to her. “Thank you, Lenny. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Lenny held her tight and could feel her body trembling in his arms. He never wanted to let go of her again. Never.
Emily pulled away and faced him, her eyes moist with tears. Lenny stared into her lovely pools of blue and could sense at that moment that something very special was happening between them. He kissed her gently and said, “Let’s go. Your skin is like ice.”
Emily nodded her head as Lenny slid toward the door, gesturing for her to follow. “It’s probably better if you get out on this side. There’s a mean drop-off on that one.”
Emily glanced out her window and let out a gasp then turned and scooted across the seat. Lenny opened the door and stepped out before taking her hand and helping her out of the bus.
“I can’t believe this,” Emily said, looking at where the bus was butted up against the tree. “I was so sleepy when I was driving home that I nearly fell asleep on the highway. By the time I got up here, I was whipped. I’m lucky I didn’t go over the side.”
“That tree was your savior,” Lenny declared as he fixed his eyes on her. “Why didn’t you just pull over if you were that tired, Emily? That’s how people get killed, you know.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “Because I’m stupid?”
Lenny couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I don’t know if that’s the right word for it. How about you weren’t using much common sense?”
“You were worried about me, weren’t you,” she said mock accusingly.
“Hell yes, I was worried! I tried calling you until ten o’clock. I never dreamed it could take you that long to get home.”
Emily put her arm around his waist. “I hope you don’t mind; I still feel a little shaky.”
“Let’s get you home,” Lenny said flatly. “How much further is your house?”
“Not far. What time is it, anyway?” she asked as they started walking.
Lenny looked at his watch. “It’s 1:40.”
“Cassie!” she cried. “She’s going to be worried sick . . . And starving!”
“Your pooch, I take it?”
Emily nodded. “I hope she’s all right. She’s not used to being left alone for very long.”
“She’ll be fine,” Lenny said reassuringly.
“Where’s your car?”
“I parked it at the bottom. There was no way in hell I could’ve driven that thing up here.”
“How did you find out where I lived?” she asked.
“I stopped at a gas station in town. An old guy named George Turner gave me directions—once I finally convinced him that I wasn’t stalking you, that is. He told me to tell you hello, by the way.”
The whole town is going to get a kick out of this! Emily thought.
“George Turner is a nice old man. But a real busybody. Gossips like an old hen!”
Lenny chuckled and tightened his hold around her. “He looked the type. How’s your head?”
“It’s all right. I’ve just got a little headache,” Emily replied.
“We’ll get some aspirin in you once we reach your house,” Lenny declared.
As they trudged up the road, Emily’s mind was awhirl. She felt safe and secure right now, walking beside Lenny arm in arm, and she was astounded at how at ease she felt. It was as if she’d known him for years and years. It was wonderful . . .
“What are those lights up there—your house?” Lenny asked, pointing through the clearing at the glow of the floods.
Emily replied, “Yes, that’s it. We’ll be there in just another few minutes.”
Light snow began to fall again as they continued on in silence. Lenny took in the quiet beauty and held Emily close as they plodded steadily through the thick blanket of virgin white. His leg was aching to beat the band, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was just relieved that he’d found Emily and that she was safe.
But something was bothering him and it permeated his thoughts. The dream she’d had in the bus. He recalled how terrified she had been and how she’d nearly beat the hell out of him when he’d tried to bring her back to reality. It was scary. Emily had been fighting off someone in that dream—viciously—as if in self-defense. Who had been attacking her and what had he been doing to her? he wondered . . .
It had been her Daddy! he suddenly recalled.
She had told him to go away, to get off of her, that he was hurting her . . .
Rape?
Good Christ! Had Emily’s father been raping her in that dream?
Suddenly he remembered something else. Her voice. It had been high-pitched, squeaky, like a small child’s . . .
Had her father molested her when she was child? And she had been dreaming about it?
Good God! Could that be what her problem was?
Whoa!
“What are you thinking about?” Emily asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Lenny looked over at her. “Oh, nothing in particular. It sure is beautiful up here.”
“I know. I love it.”
“Are we almost there?”
“Just around this curve . . .”
CHAPTER 18
“Wow! It’s enormous!” Lenny exclaimed as he and Emily rounded the bend and the huge Victorian house came into view, flooded in light.
“My grandfather built it over seventy years ago,” Emily said proudly.
“All by himself?”
Emily giggled. “Of course not! But he designed it and did a lot of the construction himself. Grandpa Warren was a very special man.”
They reached the side door and heard a dog’s barks coming from inside. “Just a second, Cassie!” Emily shouted as she took out her keys and unlocked the door.
Cassie jumped up on Emily the moment she opened the door, her tail wagging wildly. “I’m so sorry, girl! Mommy had an accident.”
Cassie then ran over and sprang up on Lenny. “Hi ya, pooch—Whoa, you sure are a frisky one!” Lenny chuckled as he petted her.
Emily eyed Lenny. “She’s sure warmed up to you awfully fast!”
“I guess she knows a dog-lover when she sees one.”
Emily stood for a moment and watched in awe as Cassie licked Lenny’s hand affectionately. How odd, she thought. Cassie had met very few strangers in her young life and every time had behaved skittish around them. Yet for some reason, she responded to Lenny as though she already knew him.
“Looks like you’ve made a friend there,” Emily declared with a wink before entering the kitchen.
“Cute pup,” Lenny said as he stood up then followed Emily inside. He watched her as she went over to the pantry and poured some dry dog food into a bowl. Cassie ate ravenously, her tail never ceasing to wag.
“How old is she?” Lenny asked.
Emily removed her coat and said, “Not quite a year. I got her after my father died last year when she was still just a tiny little thing. My father would never let me have a dog,” she added with a note of disdain.
Lenny, suddenly feeling a little awkward said, “It sure feels good to be inside.”
“Why don’t you take off your coat? We could start a fire in the fireplace if you want
,” Emily suggested.
“Sounds great! Tell me where it is and I’ll get it started,” Lenny replied enthusiastically.
“In the den—I’ll show you. Would you like some coffee?”
Lenny nodded. “That would be nice, thanks. Don’t forget to take some aspirin, by the way.”
Emily grinned and said, “Okay. Let me get the coffee started then I’ll show you where the den is.”
Lenny looked around as Emily began preparing the coffee. The kitchen was good-sized but comfortably so, and had been recently renovated judging by the granite counters and modern amenities. The room was appointed with old knickknacks, most likely antiques, which tastefully adorned the colonial blue wallpapered walls. It was in all a pleasing blend of the past and present; sort of like Emily, Lenny thought to himself.
“We’ll need some firewood,” Emily said, turning on the coffee machine. “Can you give me a hand? It’s out on the back porch.”
“Sure,” Lenny replied. He followed Emily through the back door onto the porch. After brushing the snow off the top of the woodpile they selected several small to medium-sized logs then went back inside.
“The den’s this way,” Emily said, closing the door.
They went to the den and set the logs down beside the fireplace. “Wow, this is really nice!” Lenny exclaimed, impressed by what he’d seen of the house so far. “And you live in this mansion all by yourself?”
“Just me and Cassie,” Emily replied. “I’ll never leave this place—I absolutely love it here. Just wait until you see the mountain in the daylight!”
As soon as the words came out, Emily turned red and smiled sheepishly at Lenny, realizing a little too late what they implied. Lenny quickly played the diplomat.
“I’d love to see it in the daylight,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Only a few hours to go, too.”
Emily laughed heartily and gave Lenny an endearing look. “I guess I’d better make this official, then. Would you like to spend the night here, sir?”
Lenny was unable to hide his joy and relief. “Why yes, ma’am, I’d like that very kindly.”
“I hope the sofa will be suitable for you,” she said, not too emphatically.
“The sofa will be just fine,” Lenny replied.
Emily smiled again and began nervously bunching up several old newspapers from a pile lying near the hearth. Lenny placed kindling and a few of the smaller logs on the grating then stuffed a bunch of the crumpled newspapers in underneath. Emily handed him a box of kitchen matches then said, “Would you mind if I take a quick shower? I suddenly feel a little haggard. I won’t be long.”
Lenny, a little taken aback by her sudden request, replied: “No, not at all. I can be working on the fire.”
“The coffee should be done soon. Just help yourself,” Emily said as she stood up to leave.
“Thanks . . . Uh, is it okay if I smoke?”
“Sure. Here, let me get you an ashtray.”
Emily went over to one of the end tables beside the sofa and found a crystal ashtray then brought if over and handed it to Lenny. “Here you are.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be back in a little while. Make yourself at home,” she said, smiling brightly. She then turned and headed toward the door.
Lenny watched Emily as she left the den then struck a match and lit the paper. He waited until the kindling caught fire before heading to the kitchen.
He found a mug in one of the cupboards and poured himself some coffee, added milk, took out his cigarettes from his jacket and lit one up. He retraced his steps back to the den, leisurely observing Emily’s house along the way.
After checking on the fire, Lenny strode over to the massive picture window and peered out into the night. By the light of the floods he observed the snow that was falling steadily now; blowing randomly in all directions in the gusty wind. He spotted the edge of the forest in the distance and breathed a long sigh of contentment, enthralled by the still, majestic landscape spanning out before his eyes. The view seemed oddly familiar, he soon realized; the distant forest, the blowing snow, the quiet, almost intoxicating stillness of the night. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Lenny could almost swear that he’d beheld this very same picture-perfect vista somewhere before—
In his dreams? he wondered.
Of course, he decided. Where else could it have been?
Nowhere else . . .
Moments later, he went over to the bookshelf and examined some of the titles. He saw a lot of classics—Dickens, Cooper, Thomas Hardy, Shakespeare—and an impressive array of historical works; mostly hardbound reference publications. From what little he already knew about Emily Hoffman, Lenny realized that the library suited her fittingly—she had let on to him that she loved the classics and had a penchant for history.
He returned to the fireplace and plopped down in the huge overstuffed chair. It was at that moment that he spotted the portrait sitting on the mantle and did a double take. The picture, old and yellowed from the years, was of a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Emily. In fact, had the hairstyle, clothing, and obvious age of the photograph not given it away, he’d have sworn that it was Emily.
Lenny stood up and went over for a closer look. It was incredible; the eyes, nose, lips, skin—a nearly perfect likeness of Emily Hoffman. Her grandmother? he wondered. Most likely. He’d have to ask her about this.
He stared at the portrait for some time, finding it hard to take his eyes off it. There was something about this woman—her eyes perhaps—that kept him so absorbed. They had that same youthful, innocent look as Emily’s. It was eerie. And even though the print was black and white, he’d bet his last dollar that this woman’s eyes had been the identical shade of blue as Emily’s.
Finally, Lenny placed the picture back on the mantle and knelt down on the hearth. He reached for the poker and shifted the logs around until he was satisfied then returned to the chair. Taking the last drag off his cigarette and stubbing it out, he took a sip of coffee and recalled the bizarre incident in Emily’s bus.
He had a hunch that whatever it was that Emily was going to tell him probably had something to do with the dream that she’d had. He’d seen the look on her face when he had affirmed that she’d spoken during the dream. A sort of terrified, hopeless expression. Then she appeared to have deliberated for a moment; as if deciding whether or not to let him in on something that no doubt was very personal to her. Her problem? he thought. Quite possibly.
He flashed back to the second conversation he’d had with her at the hospital. He’d had the same feeling then; that Emily wanted to tell him something important, but then she had stopped herself before following through. It had been frustrating. He’d wanted to know what was bothering her, but at the same time felt that if he pushed her too hard he’d scare her away completely. At least now, it appeared, she was finally going to . . .
“I’m done,” Emily suddenly announced from across the room.
Startled, Lenny turned and glanced over his shoulder. Emily was standing in the doorway wearing a pair of sweat pants and an extra-large white and navy blue Yale sweatshirt. Her hair was still wet, combed out and poker-straight, and she was holding a mug of coffee in her hand. Even in this oversized, baggy outfit, Emily Hoffman was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
“The fire looks wonderful,” she said as she strode over, Cassie at her heels.
“It’s coming along pretty well,” Lenny replied. “Do you feel any better?” he asked, watching as Emily knelt down on the hearth to warm herself by the fire.
“Yes, much better,” she replied, glancing back at him with a nervous smile.
Lenny could smell her—the scent of roses, laced with a dab of lavender. The scent was intoxicating.
“Who’s picture is that on the mantle?” he asked offhandedly.
Emily looked up at the portrait and replied, “My grandmother, Katherine.”
“I’ll bet I’m not the first
to tell you that you’re a spitting image of her, am I?”
There was a pause then Emily suddenly turned around and faced him, her eyes moist with tears. “God, Lenny. If only you knew what a mess I am!” she cried, rising to her feet and running over to him. She threw her arms around him; Lenny drew her gently onto his lap.
“What’s wrong, Emily?”
She didn’t reply.
Lenny held her tight and could feel her body trembling underneath the huge sweatshirt, her muffled sobs painfully evident.
A few moments later, Emily raised her head and faced him, her lovely eyes as sad and innocent as a lost lamb’s.
“I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t cry,” she said, sniffling.
“It’s okay, Emily. But please tell me what’s wrong,” Lenny coaxed softly.
“I don’t know where to begin. I went over this a hundred times in my head while I was taking my shower; debating whether or not to say anything at all. Finally, I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do—the only thing to do. But now . . . I’m just not sure.”
Lenny didn’t know what to say. He had to let her call the shots; it was the only way. “I don’t know if this helps any, but I’m a very good listener,” he said encouragingly.
Emily smiled. “I already know that. I also realize that you’ve been very patient with me. I haven’t even given you an explanation why I never called you back at the hospital, which is the least that you deserve! Yet I know that it’s been eating at you and you’ve been so considerate and not tried to force it out of me. That’s just one of the many things I like about you.”
She hesitated a moment and then said, “Lenny, I’ve got to be honest. I think I’ve fallen in love with you. In fact, I know that I have. And that’s what makes this so hard. If I tell you what all that’s happened—everything—I’m afraid you’ll run away . . .”
“Hold it right there,” Lenny interrupted. “I want to say something before you go any further. I know we’ve only just met and that we hardly know each other, but there’s one thing I’m sure of. From the very first time I spoke to you while I was in the hospital, I knew that you were different and I immediately found myself wanting to get to know you better. And when I finally did meet you earlier today, I just went overboard. Somehow—I don’t know how to put this really—but I just knew that I wanted you. I felt so drawn to you, and I told myself, ‘this is it; this is the woman you’ve been looking for all your life.’ And from that point on, I’ve found myself wanting you even more the more I’m with you. It’s really strange, I know, but in this very short time I’ve realized that I love you. Beyond the shadow of a doubt . . . I love you, Emily.”
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