“Oh, honey, that’s great. What are you remembering?”
Colette frowned. “None of it makes any sense right now. Just bits and pieces of things, but not any kind of overall picture.”
“It will come,” Abby assured her. “At least this is a sign that your memory is breaking loose, trying to find itself again.” She hugged Colette once again. “Why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air? Now that I’m home I’ll keep an eye on Brook. It’s a gorgeous day to be outside and you haven’t really been out since your fall down the side of the butte.”
Colette nodded. “Thanks, maybe I’ll do just that.” Walking somehow made thinking easier and she needed to think, to try to put the little pieces of memory into a bigger picture.
Fifteen minutes later Colette left the house and walked out into the bright early afternoon sunshine. In the distance gray storm clouds darkened the horizon, but she realized the rain was probably hours away. She’d have plenty of time for a leisurely walk.
As usual, her first destination was the dragon treein the distance. With the beginning of summer, the branches were fully dressed with thick leaves, the shape of the tree letting Colette know how it had earned its name.
Silhouetted against the backdrop of bright blue sky, the green foliage resembled a mythical dragon, complete with huge wings and long snout. She gasped as a memory whispered in her head, evoking a mental image of three little girls solemnly pressing fingers together in a ritual of sisterhood.
Every day she came here, somehow feeling if she could just sit beneath the magnificent branches, touch the gnarled rough bark, all her memories would come tumbling back. But her memories were selfish, flirting with only little pieces, sharing only shadows of scenes from her past.
She leaned her back against the tree and noticed the dirt devils rising in the breeze above the corral. Was Hank there? Working out one of the horses? Hank. She still found it impossible to believe she’d met him and fallen into his bed all in the space of a single night. But why would he lie? What did he have to gain by making up such a story? He hadn’t lied about the money chip. It had been just where he’d said it would be. Did that mean everything else he’d said was true?
She sank down to sit at the base of the tree. Not only did she have Hank to consider, but also the overwhelming sense of foreboding that had followed her from the moment she’d left the motel room in Las Vegas.
She’d hoped the feeling would dissipate with each day she spent here at the ranch with her sisters, butinstead it had grown. Danger seemed to pulsate in the air all around her, and yet she didn’t know the source of the bad vibrations.
Leaning her head back against the trunk, she closed her eyes and immediately was gifted with a memory. She and her sisters, dressed like fairy princesses, playing house in the shade of the tree.
“I’m going to marry a prince and we’ll live here forever and ever,” Abby said, her face nearly hidden by one of their mother’s pale white lace scarfs.
“I’m going to marry a prince and he’ll be rich and I’ll buy Mom and Dad a new car,” Belinda exclaimed.
“And I’m going to marry a prince and have lots of babies,” Colette could remember saying.
Colette sighed, remembering how filled with hope they had been as young girls, how full of romantic dreams. Abby’s prince had been nothing but a drifter cowboy who’d disappeared with Cody’s birth. Belinda had yet to find her special somebody who would be her prince.
Colette had gotten her wish of a baby…but where was her prince? Had she traded her dreams of happily-ever-after for a one-night stand? The Connor girls hadn’t done so well in the love department.
She stood, restless beneath the weight of her thoughts. Instead of heading back to the house, she walked in a direction she hadn’t explored before, away from the ranch and toward the fishing pond in the distance.
Before long she found herself in a pasture, the sweet scent of rich earth and tall grass filling her senses. Again she wondered why she had left theranch. Had it just been an odyssey of youth? The need to escape her roots and see part of the outside world? Somehow she thought so. She could remember entertaining fantasies of what another place might hold, foolish youthful dreams of the grass being greener.
Whatever had driven her away, she knew she was now home to stay. She could easily imagine Brook running through the tall sweet-smelling grass, enjoying the feel of the ground beneath her bare feet.
She didn’t know how long she walked before she realized she must have walked off the Connor property and onto the Walker’s old place. The remnants of an old foundation hid among a grove of trees, only a leaning brick chimney rising upward to attest to an old homestead.
Looking up, she saw that the storm clouds were getting closer, darkening the sky to the muddy color of turbulence. Time to get home.
Before leaving the area, her attention was captured by a small bunny nearby. His nose twitched as he nibbled the sweet grass and Colette froze, enjoying the sight. He hopped toward a rise in the ground and Colette followed, surprised to see a tin-covered door appearing to lead directly into the depths of the earth. Ears raised, the bunny suddenly darted away, but Colette remained, staring at the door curiously. A storm cellar? Thick, waist-high weeds choked the area and waved in the wind that had whipped up. She fought through the weeds to finally reach the door.
Grasping the handle, she tugged and with a groan of age and disuse, the door creaked open. Wooden steps led straight down, disappearing into the utter darkness at the bottom.
She wished she had a flashlight. She’d love to explore, see what was down there. Who knew what might have been stashed in the root cellar years ago? What treasures might it yield now? There would be no exploring this time. She’d be crazy to do so now, ill-prepared for the dark.
She bent in one last attempt to see what might be down there. She heard a sudden flurry of footsteps running through grass. Before she had time to react, a blow smacked against the back of her head. A single moment of sharp pain, then darkness.
