Chapter One
The rocking chair creaked as Sofia Good pushed off the ground with the balls of her bare feet. The chair rolled back a heart-stopping distance and fell forward again. Back and forward again. Even after spending twenty-four years on this earth, she still loved the slight thrill a simple wooden rocking chair could give her.
Back and forward again.
Okay, time to grow up, Sofe.
Sofia planted her feet on the hardwood floor and pulled the pencil from behind her ear. With the flick of her wrist, she flipped her sketchbook open to where she’d left off and continued to draw him. Across the room in another rocker, her grandmother knitted yet another hot pink sweater for the winter ahead and hummed a familiar tune, one Sofia had heard throughout her life, though she’d never once asked the name of the song. What was the point? A title wouldn’t make the melody any more or less sweet.
In this family, with these women, sometimes knowing less was more. Certain things were better left unspoken.
Like the majority of Sofia’s dreams.
When sleep brimmed with powerful visions—some horrid and gruesome—wasting conscious time rehashing was hardly ever a good idea. She dreamed of the future. Whether she wanted to or not. Bits and pieces were revealed to her through strong emotions like fear, love, grief, and lust. The “gift” of extra-sensory abilities had run in her family for as long as time existed. Nana had always said their gifts lay embedded in their DNA. Sofia never questioned it.
“He sure is a looker,” Nana said, cutting into the silence.
The late morning sun shone through the front window, forming a veil of light between the two. But Sofia had no trouble seeing Nana’s mischievous blue eyes peering over her knitting needles. Unfortunately, Sofia knew exactly who her grandmother spoke of. The star of her latest sequence of dreams, Grayson Phillips, slowly appeared on the sketchbook in front of her. She swirled her finger over his penetrating dark eyes, to the wisp of his hair hanging low on his forehead, and down to his full, inviting lips.
This was the only time since her discovery of precognition—sadly, during puberty—she was ever able to dream of her own future. This man—this sexy, kind, loving man—possessed it as far as she could see.
Too bad she hadn’t even met him yet.
“Don’t, Nana.” Sofia closed her sketchbook, the drawing of Gray half-complete.
“Don’t what?” A smile quirked the seventy-two-year-old woman’s red-painted lips.
Her Nana, Penny Jones, had her own special ability, and she seemed to exercise it to the fullest today.
Sofia shifted in her seat and tried not to smile back. The woman was shameless. “The rules are you can’t read my mind when I’m visiting. It’s not polite.”
“Honey,” Nana said with a wink, “it’s impossible to dodge thoughts when they’re as vivid as the ones you’ve been having lately. Is he now or in the future?”
“Future.” Sofia didn’t bother arguing the matter further. She’d been dying to tell someone about him. He’d been filling her nights with visions of their imminent lives together.
Conversations, romance, mind-boggling passion.
And emotions Sofia couldn’t put into words.
“It’s looking up, then?” Nana beamed.
It was no secret Sofia’s past and present needed a happily ever after. Boyfriends were hard to come by. After one date with a potential love interest she dreamed of his future with his cozy house, cute children, fun-filled family vacations...and a wife who wasn’t Sofia.
What was the point in falling for a man when he wasn’t her destiny?
But Gray—he was there. No doubt about that.
“Well…” Sofia thought it over. “It almost seems too good to be true. He’s funny and kind and gorgeous and, um, funny.” No way would she tell her grandmother about his superb talents in bed.
A month ago, when it all started, Sofia dreamed of losing her virginity to him. He'd been sweet and gentle, everything she hoped for. Since then, the visions had grown more sensual. Her cheeks burned from the mere memory.
Nana winked. “That good, huh?”
“So good,” she gushed. “It’s hard to believe I’ll be that happy one day.”
“I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d find a man worthy enough for you to let into your heart.”
Sofia stood from the rocking chair and crossed the hardwood floor with her sketchbook in her hand. “I’m nervous.” She opened the page to where she’d been drawing Gray and handed it to her grandmother. “I can’t tell when I’ll meet him.” Usually her visions were clear and succinct. But not lately.
Another dream haunted her sleep as well, giving her snippets of details of a small plane flying through the sky with passengers who appeared to be dead. This dream was as hazy as those of Gray, making her wonder if somehow her gift were fading. She didn’t really want to lose her power. She wanted to be able to help these people.
Although a part of her did long to just be “normal.” To not have the responsibility of preventing a murder or a rape or some other tragedy. Most of the time it only took a simple anonymous phone call to the police.
How she’d stop an entire airplane of people from going up in the air, she wasn’t quite sure yet. Not much she could do about it now. Her visions typically showed her anywhere from one day to ten years into the future, but there was no way to tell.
Nana studied the sketch. Her red fingernails traced Gray’s strong jaw line. “Yes, he’s a fine man. You’ll be very happy.”
“But when? It’s driving me crazy. I’ve been trying to read his alarm clock, find a calendar on the wall, something. But there’s nothing. I don’t even know where it all happens. All I know is that I don’t look much different than I do now.”
“Then it has to be soon.” Nana greedily sifted through the rest of the pages crammed with drawings of him. Gray wearing a suit and tie, a bathing suit, wrapped in a towel. Gray stepping out of the shower—
“I’ll take that, Nana.” She gently closed the book and slid it out of her grandmother’s hands.
Nana looked up at her with a wry grin. “Boy, I miss having a man around. As soon as you meet him, I want you to bring him here. So I can make sure his thoughts are pure.”
Sofia shook a reprimanding finger, but couldn’t help giggling at her grandmother’s silliness. “Remember the rules.”
When Sofia met this glorious man, she’d have far more exciting plans for him. Besides, bringing a man to Nana’s house would surely be relationship suicide.
“Rules schmules,” Nana grumbled, and picked up her knitting needles from her lap.
Sofia gave up. For today, anyway. Although her grandmother had a kind heart, she was a bit, er, eccentric. It wasn’t her fault. How could anyone with the ability to read minds ever lead a normal existence?
Still there were a few details of Nana’s life that put her one step closer to what some people considered bonkers. For instance, Nana insisted on living amongst the Amish people in a small town in rural Indiana, far from any major city.
Away from the electricity and phone lines that she claimed gave her migraines.
Like many Amish, Nana lived on gas-powered appliances, lit her house with kerosene oil lamps, and heated it with a wood-burning stove.
Unlike the Amish, she had a fine collection of jewelry and lipstick, wore bright colors, and had indoor plumbing. Thank goodness for that. Sofia’s weekly visits would dwindle down immensely if Nana insisted on using an outhouse.
Batteries powered other things such as the radio and the small black-and-white television.
Sofia’s mother, Laura, had grown up like this. No wonder the woman took off to the city to raise Sofia surrounded by cars, lights, and noise.
A person could stand only so much quiet country life.
The view wasn’t awful. Watching the sunset over the serene horizon had inspired more than a few paintings. She walked to the window covered by plain white curtains and looked out at what her grandmother considered heaven. Nothing but acres and acres of farmland.
And a man on a bike.
Sofia squinted, trying to get a better view of him. He was at the end of the stone and dirt road, too far out of her range to get a clear picture. But he had dark hair, she could tell.
Like Gray’s.
Could it be? Is this where they were to meet?
“What is it, dear? Do you see him?” Nana asked, clearly having read Sofia’s mind. She stood from her chair and walked to the window to stand beside her.
“I don’t know. And stop it, or I’m leaving,” Sofia threatened weakly. Denying Nana her gift was almost pointless.
“Go see. He’s just standing there as if he’s waiting for something to happen.” Nana nudged Sofia. “Go make it happen.”
“What if it’s not him? Or what if it is?” Her mind ran circles around all the possibilities. “Can you read his thoughts from here?” If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?