“Timothy, I can’t imagine how unsettling this is, but the more ye fight it, the harder it will be to live the life you are destined to live. Son, you're special, just like that young lady down the hall. Only, ya know, just as she does, that this is a secret only a few will have to keep, and a blessing even fewer will ever experience.”
“A damn blessing, Edward!?”
“Yes, Timothy, a blessing. You may not believe it now, but someday you will.”
Joseph leaned against the sink, facing his friend. He set the glass down on the counter, then looked at Dr. Payne. He sighed, then said, “I know, Edward. I know the story, and I have two choices. I can either play it out, like it was dealt to me...” He paused a few seconds, then finished, “Or I can choose to stop the madness.”
Dr. Payne’s voice raised slightly, “No, Timothy, that’s not an option! Ya must never think that way. Thomas and Jane were terribly pained that you weren’t passed over, but you know your story has a lot left to tell, and what your mum revealed when you were just a wee lad is true. Only it won’t happen today. Or tomorrow. But soon. Son, you need to let her go. Say nothing to her. Some day soon your paths will cross again.”
Joseph stepped over to Dr. Payne and patted him on the shoulder, “Edward, you’re a wise, old man, and you’re right. I’ll keep my distance the rest of their stay. Perhaps it would be better if I don't take them to the airport. Will you make sure they get back to London?”
“My pleasure,” Dr. Payne replied. “Anything for my friend.”
Joseph yawned, then said, “I better call it a night.”
“Get some sleep, Timothy. I’ll make sure your guests are looked after.”
Both tiptoed down the hall into their separate rooms. Dr. Payne left his door ajar in case he was called to check on Aimee. Within minutes, the synchronized sound of snoring floated up the hall from Dr. Payne’s room.
Around four, like someone poked her back with a red hot branding iron, Aimee shot up into sitting, gasping for air. Dylan flew out of the chair and, tangled up in the throw, fell onto the mattress across Aimee’s feet. He gathered himself up instantly and grabbed Aimee’s hands.
“Are you okay?! What hurts? Omigod, Aimee, your hands feel like ice cubes. Let me go get Dr. Payne!” Instantly he started towards the door.
“Dylan, no! I’m okay. I don’t need, and I don’t want to see Dr. Payne. It was just a bad dream. Please. Come get in bed with me. Hold me. Please. I want you to hold me. That's all I need.”
Dylan dropped his hand from the door knob and slowly returned to the bed. “Here, let me help you,” he said as he puffed the pillows behind Aimee, and then assisted her to recline into their softness. Aimee groaned, then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Another pain pill?”
Aimee patted the bed and replied in a low voice, “I only want you to lay here with me. Hold my hand. Don’t let it go even when we drift off to sleep. And as soon as I can get up and out of this bed and travel, I want to go home. Promise?”
“I promise,” replied Dylan. He kicked off his shoes, eased under the comforter and scooted up next to his soul mate, stifling the urge to moan from his own injuries.
After a long minute, Aimee began, “Dylan...”
“Uh-huh,” he replied while he weaved his fingers into hers.
She paused to stifle a sniffle. Finally, she said, “I'm sooo sorry about totalling your dad's car. Gosh, I don't know why these things always seem to happen to me. Your dad's gonna hate me, isn't he?”
Dylan quickly answered, “No, he's not gonna hate you. It really scared him when I told him what happened. I called him last night after Dr. Payne gave you the sedative. He said he would take care of whatever we needed, just let him know. He's not worried about the car. He's insured. He is worried about us though. I assured him we would be fine. He even agreed that it could have happened to anyone who was driving it. You know, it could have been worse.”
Aimee shuddered thinking about what could have happened. Dylan sensed her shudder and gripped her hand tighter. He laid his head on her pillow. Aimee squeezed his hand and whispered, “I love you.”
Dylan answered softly, “I love you more.”
After a few minutes of quiet they both drifted back into sleep. ...
Chapter 2 Briar Farm
...Dylan and Aimee were back in Oregon, only now living in Eugene. The first morning of their classes at the University of the Cascades, Dylan picked up Aimee early so he could get a good parking spot on campus. Aimee was living with her brother and his fiancée, but the freedom Aimee anticipated finally living away from home came with a price, one that didn't help Aimee feel at all free of the incessant scrutiny her dad subjected her to after the return from England.
When Dylan arrived at the apartment, Aimee was getting her backpack ready. She greeted him, then quickly returned to her room to finish putting the rest of her things into the pack. Dylan followed her and asked, “Hey, do you feel like getting something to eat before we go to class?”
“Yeah, I guess I better eat something, but just us, okay?”
“Sure, whatever you want.”
James and Sacha had been hovering over her like parents since she moved in with them. She figured Dad paid them to be her watchdogs, to make sure she stayed in one piece. Aimee loved them, but their smothering was starting to wear on her nerves. Dylan grabbed her backpack and the two snuck out of the apartment. Within ten minutes they were sitting in the little coffee shop on the edge of campus waiting for their order of caffè lattes and scones. Dylan picked up the order when the girl called their number.
“Hey, I have to hit the head,” Dylan informed Aimee as he set the tray on the table. “I'll be right back.”
Aimee smiled at him, then took a tiny sip from her cup. The quaint café was packed with students and what looked like professors popping in and picking up a quick breakfast and something with caffeine to wake them up before heading off to class. Aimee sat quietly people-watching, sipping her hot coffee, and waiting for Dylan.
Suddenly, the front door opened and in he walked. Tweed jacket. Blonde, layered hair. Crystal blue eyes like the Caribbean Sea. Leather satchel slung across his shoulder. He spotted Aimee and a huge smile instantly brightened his face.
Aimee gasped. Her coffee cup slipped from her fingers and the hot liquid spread across the table top. …
...“Aimee, sweetheart, what's wrong?” Dylan asked excitedly while he quickly reached over and turned on the lamp.
Sweat dripped down Aimee's face. She couldn't catch her breath. Dylan touched her forehead, then grabbed a tissue from the bedside to wipe her face.
“Sweetheart, it's okay now, you're awake. Here, let me help you.” He dabbed at the moisture on her forehead, and then got the pitcher of water on the dresser, poured a glass and offered it. “Here drink,” he insisted. “You need to drink.”
Aimee took the glass, slowly sipped and swished the temperate liquid around her parched mouth, then swallowed. She drank the rest and handed Dylan the empty glass. “Thank you,” she said, then she leaned back into the pillows behind her.
Dylan sat down on the bed next to her. At last, he stated, “I know you had another bad dream. Do you want to talk about it?”
She just shook her head.
“Aimee,” he started, “you have to trust me. I know you have these horrible, scary dreams, but if you'll just share what you're dealing with, I think you'll feel better. I know I do when I have something bothering me.” Dylan paused and waited for Aimee to finally open up. But she said nothing. They sat in silence. Dylan waited patiently for her to say something. Anything. Anything that would tell him she trusted in him enough to share her dark nightmares. But she couldn't. She couldn't tell him that the man whose house they were in, who they had just met the day before when Aimee wrecked their car at the edge of his farm, would some day drive a wedge between her and Dylan. He had already managed to worm his way into he
r dreams. Aimee shuddered. Dylan noticed.
“Cold?” he asked.
“I'm a little chilled.”
“Here, let me cover you,” said Dylan. He took the extra throw and wrapped it gingerly across her front, then he eased under the covers and curled up close to her, careful not to touch any injured spots. “Better?”
“Yes, I'm better now.”
“Good,” he answered. After a few seconds he added, “Aimee, you know you have my heart, my soul. You're the reason I live, and if something ever happened to you...” he paused, then lowly finished, “I would die, too.”
“Dylan, I must be a freakin' mess of a person to love, but I promise I'll always love you. Forever. And I'll try to not make you worry so much.”
Dylan sighed, stretched his arm delicately across her stomach, and they slipped back into slumber.
**********
The morning sunlight snuck through the small crack in the closed curtains. A cool breeze flowed through the slightly opened window. Aimee opened her eyes. She instantly remembered where she was, and why, then thought, Oh geez, I'm sooo incredibly sore, but, thank God, at least alive. Getting out of bed was going to take some effort. She laid still and surveyed the room. The lamp in the corner was still on. It lit the pictures on the wall. Aimee peeked over at Dylan. His back was to her now, but she could tell he was still in a deep slumber. Her bladder needed emptying so she slowly, but tactfully, dug out from under the covers so not to wake him. Like a decrepit person, she pulled her achy body upright, steadied herself, then attempted a step. The wrapped ankle supported her, but not without a reminder it was injured. She limped carefully over to the opposite wall. Her eyes moved from photo to photo across the entire length of the room. Joseph posed randomly in the framed collection. Many of the photos had Joseph with a couple, whom he remarkably resembled. Aimee decided they must be his mom and dad. Each photo of Joseph looked the same. It was eerie. His eyes seemed to follow her as she hobbled from one end to the other. Aimee shivered, not from the chill in the room, but from the the bizarre reality of being here. Her dreams weren't dreams. They seemed to be glimpses of her future. But she couldn't think about this any longer. She needed to find the bathroom.
After spending a few minutes in the bathroom, cleaning up as best she could, Aimee crept quietly to the kitchen to see what she could find to eat. Her stomach loudly rumbled. No one else was awake so she decided to poke through the antiquated refrigerator and the large pantry at the end of the room. A bowl of glossy, red apples caught her eye. Aimee grabbed one. Its earthiness smelled delightful. She closed her eyes and sucked in the wonderful scent. Before taking a bite, she turned to the sink to wash it.
All of a sudden, the back door opened. Aimee dropped the apple into the sink and twirled around on one foot. Joseph stood in the entry holding a basket of fresh eggs in his hands.
“Well, good morning,” he greeted. “I hope I didn't wake you.”
Aimee planted herself against the counter, her heart racing. “Good morning. I didn't realize anyone else was up.”
“Yes, well, I'm an early riser,” answered Joseph as he set down the filled basket. He gestured to the basket. “The girls have obliged us with some wonderful protein. Hungry?”
“Yes, a little, but don't worry about me,” she answered. Aimee wasn't sure she wanted to stay here with just the two of them.
“Oh, come now. A good breakfast is just what you need to get your strength back. Hey, sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to give you such a fright. How are you feeling this morning?” Aimee limped over to the table. Joseph flew over and pulled out a chair, “Here, let me help you.”
“Thanks, I think I can manage.” She forced a smile and eased into the seat. “I guess I'm as good as can be expected, considering I'm without the full use of one arm and one foot.”
Joseph chuckled lightly. “Well, it's amazing that's all the damage you're experiencing. You seem to be able to pull through some rather difficult situations.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, suddenly sensing the friendly chit-chat was going another direction.
“Oh, nothing, just that Dylan mentioned this was your second...hmmm, or was it third...mishap in the past few months.” Joseph looked over at Aimee while he cracked eggs into a large bowl, then tossed the shells into a small bucket by the stove.
She quickly replied, “Well, I've had a couple accidents, but nothing too serious.” Joseph looked back at her. Aimee felt certain he knew otherwise. Her level of discomfort was growing. She needed to change the subject, or politely excuse herself, or be saved somehow. She didn't want to share anything else personal about herself with this complete stranger. “So, I believe I owe you a big thank you for saving my life, our lives actually. Dylan told me that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you.” Aimee looked up. Joseph had stopped beating the eggs and his striking blue eyes were locked on her.
Joseph started to say something, but stopped. He turned back to whipping his eggs with incredible intensity. Finally he spoke, “Yes, well, it was a bit of good fortune I was on my way to town.” He struck a match and lit a burner on the old, gas stove, tossed a chunk of butter into the frying pan he set on the burner, then poured the eggs into the pan. He looked back over his shoulder her direction. “Won't be but a minute. Eggs and toast good for you?”
“Yes, that would be great. Can I help?”
Joseph reached into the sink, washed her apple again, dried it, then tossed it to Aimee. She sniffed it again, then took a bite. “Thank you, but you stay put,” he answered. “Do you think we should wake Dylan and Edward to join us?”
“Edward?”
“I'm sorry. Dr. Payne.”
“Oh, I didn't know he was here.”
“Well, after your fainting spell, he thought it was a good idea to stay the night, just in case you needed him.”
“Oh,” she responded.
The longer the two were alone, the more uneasy she felt. Aimee couldn't explain it. It wasn't anything Joseph was saying...or not saying...it was the way he looked at her, like a man looks at his lover. And what was worse, the look gave her butterflies in her stomach. Not the kind of feeling a woman crazy in love with someone else wanted to feel. But, she couldn't just leave, not while he was being so polite. Even if she didn't feel like being in the same room, Aimee needed to force herself to be cordial. Despite Joseph exactly resembling the young Brit in her dreams, this couldn't be more than a very strange coincidence. Yep, nothing more than a freaky coincidence, she kept telling herself.
Aimee started to get up as she answered, “Yeah, it might be a good idea to wake up the two, at least Dylan. I have a feeling he didn't eat much yesterday.”
“No, please, don't move. Let me go get them.” He set a plate of steaming, scrambled eggs and a piece of toast in front of her. “Here you go. Coffee?”
“Yes, please. This looks wonderful,” Aimee replied as Joseph handed her a cup of black coffee.
“Cream? Sugar?”
She answered, “Yes, cream, please.”
He got Aimee some cream, then stood next to her, his beautiful, sharp blue eyes watching her intently. Her stomach was now doing somersaults. After an eternity, he turned and left the room. She heard a knock at the door where Dylan was sleeping, then a couple voices. A few seconds later, another more distant knock. Again unintelligible voices. Shortly after Joseph returned.
“Wow, you were hungry,” he commented when he noticed her empty plate. “Would you like more?”
“Thanks, I'm good, and it was wonderful. I don't eat eggs often, but they were really good.”
Joseph smiled. “Well, I make a dynamite omelette. Perhaps I'll make one for you tomorrow.”
Damn, she thought, quit staring at me with those hypnotic eyes!
Joseph interrupted her thoughts. “Dylan is hungry. Edward, too. They'll be out shortly.”
In a matter of minutes, both Dr. Payne and Dylan strolled into the kitchen. Joseph was busy beating eggs.
“Scrambled all right with you two?”
“You bet,” both responded together, then chuckled.
Almost an hour later, after a surprisingly friendly chat, the brutal throbbing in Aimee's shoulder could no longer be tolerated. She needed something for the stabbing pain so she retired to her room. Dylan helped her open the pill bottle. She swallowed a tablet and chased it with a big swig of water. Dylan puffed up the pillows, pulled back the covers, then helped her get comfortable, as comfortable as someone with her injuries could get.
“Better?” asked Dylan.
“Yes, I guess. Thank you for your help. You really do take good care of me.”
Concerned, Dylan asked, “Can I do anything else? I mean, it's obvious you're in a lot of pain.” He kicked off his shoes and crawled up in the bed with her.
Aimee sighed, then replied, “I wanna go home.”
“Babe, we're going home on Thursday. I re-booked our flight. It was the earliest I could get, and besides, Dr. Payne wanted you to rest a few days before you flew.”
She groaned, “Ughhh!”
“Honey, it's only two more days. I'm anxious to get home, too.”
She sighed again. Aimee didn't think she could last two more days, at least not with Joseph staring at her with his chick-magnet eyes.
“Okay, well, there's no television, so I guess I'll catch up on some reading. I brought a couple books with me, but I haven't had time since we left Medford to read anything.” She managed a smile.
Dylan smiled back, whipped her hand up to his lips, and kissed her fingers. “That's my girl. Read. It'll help to keep your mind off the pain.”
The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: Seeking Others Page 2
