Chapter Forty-One
Nathan
We drove into El Paso through the Hueco Mountains. Bree drove, one hand on the wheel and the other one tapping her thigh. The song on the radio was making her sing in little off-key bursts. It was good to see her finally relaxed.
I couldn’t believe I had worried her over the dream. I should have just told her what was bothering me in the first place. I felt stupid worrying over the meaning of a dream, but it had been so vivid. I could still feel my heart pounding when Maggie turned to defend us. Bree had been so comforting; I knew she was the only reason I could still string together a cohesive thought.
Without Bree, I knew I would be spiraling out into a strange world full of signs and paranoia. She kept me grounded, kept my head clear, and kept me optimistic.
It was hard not to be hopeful when Bree muttered out another verse of the song and laughed at her own singing. “Sorry, you’re stuck with me. I sing in the car. And I’m not going to be able to break that habit.”
I laughed but my own habits were a sobering thought. I was still chasing the little facts that I knew around and around until they didn’t make sense anymore. Then I only slept in ragged bits and had nightmares in between.
To stop the circling thoughts, I looked out the window. Sure, I was studying the landscape in hopes that I would recognize something, but it was a pleasant task. The Hueco Tanks State Park sign flashed past, and I felt a fist close around my lungs.
The sign seemed familiar, as if I had driven past it before but going in the opposite direction. I twisted in my seat and looked at it again.
“Yeah, I’m ready to get out and stretch my legs, too,” Bree said. “Have you ever been to El Paso before? Where should I go?”
I looked out the window as a line of tall, skinny conifers whipping by. The sparse trees on the outskirts of town were always a surprise. I furrowed my forehead at the odd memory and wondered again when I had been to Texas.
“I’ve been here a dozen times or so,” I laughed. “There’s a base down here where the Navy Seals sent us for training. Not my favorite stuff but I remember the city was fun.”
I directed Bree and then looked back out the window.
The urban sprawl was getting tighter as we headed toward El Paso, but none of it felt familiar anymore. There were faded memories of my visits to the base but those were all glossed over like they belonged to someone else’s life. I would never be welcomed on base again.
I saw a little bungalow that looked familiar and almost jumped out of the car. Bree hesitated at the intersection but shrugged when I didn’t say anything. Halfway through the intersection, I spotted another bungalow exactly the same as the first. They were a regular feature in the large developed neighborhoods.
“Are you remembering things?” Bree asked.
I slumped back in my seat. “No. Nothing helpful. Plus, there’s no way to tell if what I’m thinking is remembering or just wishing.”
“What you’re doing is overthinking it.” Bree pulled the car over to a gas station.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Bree was confidently sweeping together the contents of her purse and fixing her hair.
“I’m going inside to buy a postcard,” Bree said.
I ripped off my seatbelt and leaped out of the car. “A postcard? You can’t send it to anyone.”
Bree shot me a pained look. “I know.”
I caught up with her and looped my arm over her shoulders. “We still have to be the Cramers, remember? You can’t be sending anyone a postcard. Even anonymous.”
Bree shrugged off my arm and fluffed up her hair. “Well, Mr. Cramer. It just so happens that I was going inside to see if that postcard you’ve got is a common one or if we can narrow down where it came from.”
My hand snaked out and grabbed Bree’s wrist. She swung around and bumped into my chest. “Thank you,” I said, then I kissed her.
We walked arm and arm into the gas station and checked out all the postcards in the wobbly metal display rack.
“Are these your only postcards?” Bree asked the clerk.
He nodded.
I turned her around and walked her out, before the security camera could sweep past our faces. “Let’s try the visitors’ center next, honey,” I said.
The clerk called out the directions to the visitors’ center and hoped we had a good day.
“Wow,” Bree said when we reached the car. “They really are that friendly in Texas.”
“Or maybe men are just that friendly to you,” I pointed out.
We drove about five miles east to the visitors’ center. It was a long, squat stucco building painted with bright murals. We stopped to admire the bold colors and the local history before stepping into the cool interior.
The hot Texas sun had us blinking for a few seconds before we could navigate the inside of the center. There was the obligatory rack of local brochures and a long row of vending machines.
“Oh, look, they have cave paintings at that state park we passed.” Bree snatched up the brochure and then spotted the postcard display.
“Welcome to Texas, miss,” a man in a cowboy hat said with a wide smile. He leaned on a stool behind the information counter.
“Thanks.” Bree was unaware of the man’s continuing gaze as she turned the postcard rack around and around. “You have any postcards of the missions?”
“Mostly just vistas. They sell postcards at the missions themselves as a way to raise a little money. Those old buildings take a lot of upkeep under the Texas sun.” The cowboy tipped his hat back and checked Bree out more thoroughly.
“So, do you have a map of the missions?” I stepped up to the counter and stared him in the eye.
“Sure. Poster on the wall,” he said. Then he pulled the brim of his hat back down and ignored me.
I hooked my arm firmly around Bree’s waist as we turned toward the back wall. She found the small icon of the mission and tapped it with her finger.
“That’s the one on the postcard.” She leaned up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Looks like the east side of town.”
“Is there a good hotel on the east side of town?” I asked the man behind the information counter.
He shook his head. “A decent motel’s about all you’re going to find.”
Bree laughed. “I’d say we’re stuck in a rut but at least it’s a new town.”
“Try the Armadillo Inn. Tell Maureen I sent you over and you get free WIFI.”
“Thanks!” Bree waved at the cowboy and spun us toward the visitor center doors.
I could still feel his gaze on Bree’s behind as we crossed the parking lot. “At least he wasn’t looking at our faces,” I said.
“What?”
“I’m just saying, it’s a good thing your ass looks great in those pants. No one’s going to recognize our faces.” I laughed as Bree swatted my arm.
“Here, you drive.” She tossed me the keys.
We headed toward the east side of El Paso, and it wasn’t hard to find the Armadillo Inn. A neon blue armadillo strolled across the neon sign and then flashed as headlights appeared above it. It was blinding as we pulled into the motel.
“Don’t worry, you can’t see it from the rooms. Too high up,” the clerk called from the front steps of the motel lobby. He stood up and dusted off his hands. “Maureen called to say some travelers were headed our way.”
“We just need a room for the night.” I pulled into the front parking spot and turned off the car.
“We’re about halfway full up but come on in and pick what room you want off the map.” The motel clerk held the door open for us.
“Is there a pool?” Bree asked.
“Most certainly.”
I stopped the clerk before his imagination made him drool over the idea of Bree in a swimsuit. “How about food? Anywhere deliver?”
The clerk snapped his eyes back to me. “Sure. Though your best bet is to head to the barbecue shack down the street. Best sauce you’ve ever tasted.”
“How about that and a few beers?” I asked Bree.
“Sounds like heaven. I’m starving,” Bree said.
The clerk gave us the room key and didn’t even glance down as I wrote ‘Cramers’ in the guest book. “Tell ‘em I sent you from the Armadillo, and they’ll give you extra greens.”
Bree waited until we got to the motel room and then gave my arm a squeeze. “I don’t mind if you want to go check out the mission tonight. You don’t have to put everything on pause because I’m hungry.”
“What if I want to see you swimming in that pool?” I asked.
“It’s shaped like an armadillo. Plus, I don’t have a swimsuit.” Bree flopped down on the motel bed. “I’m not swimming in anything that looks like roadkill.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Armadillos are amazing animals.”
“So are cows. Mmm, barbecue sounds really good to me,” Bree said.
“Really?” I flopped down next to her. “I think you might be the perfect woman.”
Bree propped herself up on one arm. “And I’d be happy to make a beer run.”
“No way. Those cowboys like the look of you too much. I’m sticking close to what’s mine,” I said.
“So, you really don’t want to go straight over to the mission?” Bree asked.
“It’ll be there in the morning. We might as well settle in for the night,” I said.
I didn’t want to tell Bree how exhausted I was. The dream had nagged at me all day. I think she knew, though, and she was quick to take care of everything.
After three beers and countless mouth-watering ribs, it was impossible to hold my eyes open. That’s when I realized it had been Bree’s plan all along. With my stomach full of Texas barbecue and my head swimming with beer, there was no way I wouldn’t sleep through the night.
But first I gathered her close and wrapped my arms around her. Bree was the only thing that made sense. The closer we got to where Maggie’s clues pointed, the more confusing things were.
I knew that all hell might break loose tomorrow, but tonight I could hold Bree in my arms and finally fall asleep without dreaming.