“We can forget about the dream. I don’t think you really?—”
“No, no, I want to hear about it. And FYI, twilight is my favorite time, too.” Especially after the clinic experience. Twilight meant he could be alone with her.
“Okay, then. I was in this grassy field at twilight for some reason. Then a horse and rider came toward me at a gallop.”
“Me, I assume.”
“Right. Even at a distance I could tell it was you. You have a distinctive style.”
“I do?”
“Great posture, excellent form, but there’s nothing stiff about you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be so sure. After all, I was coming to see you.”
She gave him a look.
“Sorry. Carry on.”
“You rode up on Scout, a beautiful butterscotch Paint?—”
“Pinto.”
“You swung down from the saddle and dropped the reins. When you walked toward me, I thought you were going to kiss me. You had that gleam in your eyes.”
“Like now?”
She smiled. “Like now.”
“Then what?”
“Using your low sexy voice, you said Come to me, querida. We belong together.”
“Did I kiss you?”
“No. You faded away and I woke up.”
“Hmm. I didn’t kiss you, we didn’t make love, and you’ve rejected the idea that we belong together. I don’t understand what’s so compelling about this dream.”
“I don’t, either! But I keep seeing the intensity in your eyes and hearing the urgency in your voice.”
“Just at night?”
“Mostly. Or at twilight.”
“How about since we reconnected this morning?”
“I’ve been too involved with the real you to have your dream self popping in for a visit.”
“I have a theory. Burning up the sheets might have wiped out that image for good.”
“Maybe. I can see how it could. But I’m afraid it’s created….” She trailed off, as if reluctant to put her fears into words.
“A bigger problem?”
She nodded.
“I won’t lie. It already has. When I left the bathroom I’d planned to call a halt to save myself. And save you, for that matter.”
