Chapter Three
Nathan
The sight of the road made me tense. I'd been there before but the dream had twisted it into cold and barren stretch. I knew what was coming next but it hit me like a punch in the stomach.
A small girl stood in the middle of the road. My sister, my little sister, smiling at the puffy clouds above her and the way the wind chased leaves across the ground. She didn't even notice where she stood or the danger that barreled toward her.
When I called to her, she turned around. Now she was Maggie, the girl from the crumpled photograph. I tried to run to her but my legs were lead, the landscape stretched unexpectedly, and the dream turned into the same nightmare that had tortured me before.
Waving my arms and screaming, I tried to warn her about the truck. It drove on blindly, gaining speed, and I was never going to make it to the road in time. . .
That's when I woke up.
The panic from the dream turned into a sheen of sweat as my eyes darted all over the strange room. Where was I?
Bree shifted next to me, and I froze. It all rushed back: the yawning gap in my memory, the clinic in Topeka, hitchhiking, and the diner in Wichita. And Bree, her lovely smile saving me from my stretch of bad luck.
I stood up and edged towards the bedroom door. Bree had shut it but it didn’t latch properly and I was able to swing the door open and look in on my hostess.
She slept alone in her bed, like a fairytale princess in pristine white sheets. I felt a tug of lust again as I caught sight of her creamy bare shoulder in the moonlight.
Why had she pulled away?
It had been a mistake, kissing her, but I had needed to taste her lips. I’d come on too strong, every woman I’d ever been with had accused me of that. I normally didn’t care enough to feel bad about my fast approach.
Too bad, because Bree was really stunning.
She turned over and then settled back down with a light sigh, and I waited to make sure she really was asleep. When her breathing fell into a deep and regular rhythm, I edged out of the room. As much as I was tempted to wrap Bree in my arms again and fall back asleep, there was no way I could escape that dream. It would be hours, if not a day or two, before I got any more rest.
I eased my way back into the living room, grateful when there was no loud creaking from the uneven floorboards. It was a short shuffle down the narrow hallway to Bree's small, galley kitchen. There I turned on the small light above her sink and took a long drink of water straight from the tap.
It was hard not to be curious when little bits of Bree's life were all around me. I knew it was rude to snoop but I needed to get my mind back on the present. And I was curious. What kind of woman could be so generous to a complete stranger?
A candid photograph of Bree next to a silvery lake caught my eye. The skimpy yellow bikini she wore reminded me just how passionate Bree had kissed me. She radiated a sex appeal that she seemed completely oblivious to. It was the same in the photograph. The other young woman had the same hair and build—maybe they were sisters?—but she was trying too hard in an awkward pin-up pose. Bree just stood there smiling, and she was stunning.
I dragged my eyes away from the photograph and confirmed the other woman must be Bree's sister. She reappeared in the older family photographs with Bree and their mother and father. Where were the recent family pictures?
I glanced out into Bree's tiny living room, but other than on the crowded freezer door, there were no other photographs. Her whole life seemed jumbled across the small, economy appliance. There were unfinished shopping lists, a work schedule with changes written in pink pen, and buried deep behind a wad of coupons was an official-looking letter.
I peeled back the layers carefully to reveal a college acceptance letter. From two years ago.
"It was supposed to motivate me," Bree said. She leaned on the door jamb, trapping me in the small kitchen. "Now it's just a reminder of how life keeps moving and things get lost in the shuffle."
"It's still there," I said. "Must still be a dream of yours."
Bree gave a soft snort. "More like a pipe dream."
Her cynicism was so brittle, a thin protection against something that still hurt. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just thirsty."
The small apartment was just beginning to fill with gray pre-dawn light. I spied the clock on the oven and winced. There was no way waitresses were on the same schedule as someone used to life on a Naval base.
"Well, the best thing I've learned from working at the diner is how to make a tasty cup of coffee," Bree said.
She stepped into the kitchen but I stopped her. "No, I'm fine. I drank some water. You can go back to bed."
"You look wide awake. What are you going to do?" Bree asked.
"Make you breakfast in bed?" I asked.
Bree smiled. "Sorry but that is something I'm going to need to see to believe. It's not every day I have a man cooking for me in my own kitchen."
I tugged open her refrigerator. "Only on weekends?"
"Very funny." Bree stepped back to sit down on one of the mismatched stools at the kitchen counter. "Actually, you're the first."
"The first to cook you breakfast? You need to go out with better men," I said.
"No. I mean, you're the first man I've had here. Not just in my kitchen but here in my apartment." Bree studied her fingernails.
Her shy admission made me smile but I hid it by digging through her refrigerator shelves. I was already feeling guilty as hell, but the idea of being welcomed where no other man had been before pleased me.
"At least let me make the coffee," Bree said, jumping off her stool.
She joined me in the kitchen, and I realized just how small a space it was. I stood up and juggled a carton of eggs, a hunk of cheese, and the fresh red pepper I had found. As I turned to put everything on the counter, my bare arm brushed Bree's silken skin.
She'd slipped on a white cotton bra, a prim white tank top, and a pair of long floral shorts. Her long, thick hair was back up in a tidy ponytail, leaving her delicious neck and shoulders bare.
I couldn't resist dropping a kiss on her shoulder, seeing as it was right next to mine.
Bree blushed but played it cool. "There's some ham in the 'fridge, too. If you're making an omelet."
I turned back to the refrigerator to find it. "So, are you going to tell me what it was for?"
"What? Oh, the college course?" Bree asked.
"Cooking school?"
Bree laughed. "Can you imagine ending up at that diner after wanting to be a chef? That'd be awful."
She started the coffee pot and leaned on the small kitchen counter. I resisted the urge to lean over her for a kiss. Bree really had no idea how sexy she was.
"So, I'm no good at guessing." I pulled a mixing bowl out of a top cupboard and started to crack the eggs.
"Nursing," Bree said. "I wanted to become a nurse."
"Not going for the easy grade, huh," I said.
Bree helped chop up the red pepper and showed me where she kept her spices. I dropped some butter in a frying pan and soon the omelet was taking shape.
As we waited, standing side by side at the tiny stove, I pressed Bree for more. "What made you decide on nursing?"
Bree shrugged. "After you, ah, know someone who's been in an accident, you dream about knowing how to help them. Like I said, it was just a pipe dream."
I didn't press about the accident, but I wondered if it had anything to do with the discontinuation of family photographs.
"You can still become a nurse," I said.
"I don't know. Not much has worked out for me the past few years. And I'm not sure being that tied down suits me anymore. Right now, I think I'd be happier if my life was only a little more exciting." Bree pulled out two plates.
I divided up the omelet. "I'd be happier if I could remember just how exciting my life has been the last few days."
Bree nodded to my discarded coat as we sat down at her coffee table to eat our breakfast. "You don't have any clues? No receipts or anything?"
I reached over and pulled out the meager contents of my pockets. "I don't even have my wallet," I said in between mouthfuls of omelet.
Bree held up the key. "Looks like there's a number on this. And something was written on the other side but I can't read it. Did you scratch it out?"
I took the key from her and examined it again. "No. I don't remember. You're right about there being something written there. It must have taken some work to scratch it off."
Bree carefully picked up the photograph and unfolded it. "Do you know her?"
"I don't know," I said.
We both stared down at the little girl named Maggie. She looked distracted, watching something just out of frame.
"Where is she?" Bree asked. "That wall is so stark but she's definitely inside somewhere."
Bree gave a slight shiver and tried to cover it up by checking the time. I finished my coffee and stood up.
"I don't want to screw up your plans for the day. I'll just grab my things and get out of your hair," I said.
Bree stood up, shaking her head. "Don't be stupid. You need to get back to your base and you need a ride. I have a car."
"Don't you have work?" I asked.
Bree shrugged. "I could use a day off."
I couldn't find a way to tell her how that casual shrug of hers had lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders. All I could do was nod and try for the twentieth time that morning not to kiss her again.