Insight (Web of Hearts and Souls #1)(4)

He was there, watching the water, waiting patiently for me to arrive, as he knew I always would. Feeling me approach, he turned and grinned at me as he brushed his dark, wavy hair out of his eyes. A smile lit my face. I felt the air leave my lungs as I took him in, a life force. It didn’t matter how many times I’d seen him butterflies still filled my stomach. My heart still beat a little bit faster, my soul hummed at the sight of him.

Each time my nightmare would come before our meeting, he could see it in my face and his unease and anger for whoever had hurt me was clear. Stepping closer to me, he read my eyes again. Instantly the smile in his eyes faded. I looked down, almost ashamed that I was so weak. He held out his arms and I fell into his embrace. Those strong hands eased down my back as he pressed us together and swayed us ever so slightly. I felt his lips on the crest of my brow; the sensation sent a quake through my entire body. I craved this boy. I needed him to be real.

I know it’s nuts, but I loved him so much that it hurt. His absence from my waking life was agony.

I wanted to stay here, to hear him. All the insane things that happened to me would be worth it if only he were real.

The sound of lawnmowers woke me before I had a chance to say goodbye to my blue-eyed boy. I looked down to see the star still resting inside my Ankh and shook my head in disbelief.

Knowing that I couldn’t lie still for another moment, I pulled myself up. On my bedside table, there was a note from my mother. Libby is playing with Abby today. Abby’s grandmother is taking them to a movie this afternoon. Can you meet them at the theater at four? Meet me at the gallery, we’ll get dinner.

Love Mom

My mother, Grace, owns an art gallery at the corner of Main Street. She has a big showing this week. Most of the paintings are mine. She assumes that if I see the reaction of the public I will be inspired to paint again.

Now that the nightmares had returned, I was almost sure that I’d see an image today. It would feel good to paint again. Even though it was my crutch, it was also my release.

I had just finished getting dressed and was wondering what I was going to do with myself when I heard a knock on the front door. From the top of the stairs, I could see my friend, Dane, through the glass window that surrounded the door.

I have known Dane my entire life. I will never see him as anything more than a friend. He’s a little older than me, tall, with an athletic build. His eyes have always held seriousness beyond his years. In truth, we both felt out of place in this modest life in which we were raised.

Walking down the steps, I took in his calm demeanor which felt refreshing after last night. I opened the door and met him with a wry grin, but his smile faded when he saw me.

“Rough night?” he asked, as that all too serious stare rained down on me.

I rolled my eyes and waved him in. He followed me to the patio that lined the back of the house. I sat down on the swing that faced the yard. Dane sat down beside me and stretched his long arm out behind me.

“You okay, Willow?” he asked, looking down at me knowing the answer was no.

I nodded, staring into the distance.

“Did the nightmares come back?” he pushed.

I glanced up at him, not shocked that he had guessed so quickly. It was no secret among any of my friends that I was a violent sleeper.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dane asked, dropping his arm from the back of the swing to around my shoulders.

I didn’t mind it. Dane wasn’t like the other guys in town. I never once felt uncomfortable because of his emotions. He was like a big brother that knew how to make you feel safe.

“No, I’d rather just forget,” I murmured.

I could sense his frustration as he tried to think of a way to help me. “Was it a new moon last night?” Dane asked. He moved his fingers together as if he were counting the days that had gone by.

I shook my head no.

He was confused. Even he knew that it was odd for me to have a nightmare on any night other than the new moon. My friends would always stay at my house during those times, as if they could protect me from the bad dreams. Dane had told me to just stay awake. I considered the thought, but when I realized that meant I wouldn’t see my blue-eyed boy I chose sleep.

“I wonder why this one was different,” he said faintly.

I shrugged my shoulders. I felt as though I’d let my family and friends down. They’d been more relieved than I was when I had gone so long without a nightmare.

I stood slowly, hearing Dane sigh before he stood to follow me wherever I chose to go. A gust of summer air rustled through the trees, causing one of the branches to scrape against the roof of the patio. I grinned, feeling a sudden quick fear shoot through Dane before he had a chance to process what the noise was.

“Maybe you just have nightmares because of this house,” Dane said, blushing a little.

My house is over a hundred years old and has always been in my family. It is the most historic and admired home in the town of Franklin, but for some strange reason, Dane has never been completely comfortable here.

All at once I felt a gentle pull on me, the way I always did when an image would emerge, looking for my help.

In the center of my yard a young woman appeared. A sinking feeling quickly absorbed me. I blinked to make sure I was not imagining anything. She was on her knees, wearing a long black coat, holding a letter in her hands. She was crying breathlessly.

I stepped off the patio and walked slowly in her direction with Dane following right behind me. It would not be the first time he had watched me help an image. In fact, I was sure I had lost count of how many times he had actually come. He never asked any questions or even spoke about it. Each time, he would just act as if nothing had happened.