BLURB:
“Not the children.” Willow Carey is awakened by the remnants of a dream she hasn’t had for years. Today she is to return to Indian’s Sorrow, a house she inherited from her aunt. The inheritance has caused a rift with her twin sister. Her father and stepmother have died in an accident. Though she doesn’t want to go to Indian’s Sorrow, she must take charge of her young half-sister and brother.
Reid Talbot, a man she once loved lives near the house with his family. Now a widower, he lives with his sons. Learning to trust him again is difficult but he also has dreams.
Together, they must learn the meaning of the dreams before the whispers of yesteryear destroy their newfound happiness.
Excerpt:
"Not the
children!"
Willow Carey jerked into
a sitting position. Her heart thudded in her chest. Waves of terror flooded her
thoughts. She gulped deep breaths of air.
She stared at the
familiar surroundings and wondered why the bedroom seemed alien. Like a shroud,
the sheet had twisted around her legs. She tugged it free. Her sleep shirt,
soaked with perspiration, clung to her skin. She shook her head to dislodge the
fragments of the nightmare that had awakened her. Terror, grief and rage had
followed her into consciousness. What? Why?
Once her heart rate
slowed, she reached for the alarm clock. Too late to go back to sleep and too
early to get ready for work. As the effects of the adrenaline rush faded, her
sense of uneasiness grew.
She hugged her knees.
Once again, she had failed but she couldn’t remember who or how.
Moments later, she stood in the shower. Warm water washed
away the sour smell of fear. The nightmare wasn’t new. Six years had passed
since the last time the cry had jolted her awake. Always the same urgency and
the same surge of emotions. No matter how hard she tried, she never remembered
more than the cry.
She stepped from the
shower. After pulling on a blue terry cloth robe, she stripped the bed and
stuffed the damp sheets in the hamper.
What had triggered the
dream? With the thoroughness of a pathologist seeking the cause of death, she
examined the past few days and found no incident that could be called a
trigger.
As she made the bed, she
recalled the first time she’d dreamed. She’d been sixteen. She and her twin had
been at Indian’s Sorrow visiting their aunt. Willow had always loved staying
there. This time had been different. One memory lodged in her thoughts.
"Willow, come here.
This is so neat." Brooke had opened the gate at the side of the garden.
Willow halted at the
opening. She looked beyond her sister. "Get away from the edge."
"I’m fine."
Brooke leaned forward. "The rocks look like a giant’s teeth. Come see."
"I can’t."
Brooke laughed.
"Chicken."
"Something dreadful
happened here."
"And I thought I
was the one with the imagination and you were the logical one." Brooke
spun around. "I love this place.”
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