Natasha's Dream

by Heather Greenis

  Natasha’s Dream

  The Natasha Saga, Book 1

  By

  Heather Greenis

  Digital ISBNs

  EPUB 9781771456654

  Kindle 9781771456661

  WEB PDF 9781771456678

  Print ISBN 9781771456685

  Copyright 2015 by Heather Greenis

  Cover art by [cover artist] Copyright 2015

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  * * *

  Dedication

  To anyone with the courage to follow a dream.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  “It’s ridiculous,” she grumbled. The disembodied voice from the radio forecasted a week of roller coaster temperatures. “I’ve got four seasons’ worth of clothing in the laundry basket.”

  It hadn’t been a typical spring. One week she could wear shorts, and then a cold spell would return, causing her to race around the house in search of a winter coat. Now, nearing the end of April, Keeghan still refused to put away her parka for the season.

  Dressed for the garden in a baggy pink T-shirt, navy hoodie, and black yoga pants, Keeghan poured hot water from the kettle into a mug. Inhaling the fragrance of her favourite herbal tea, she walked out the sliding door onto the interlocking stone deck to join her husband. William was settled at their taupe aluminum patio table with the smoked-glass top. Shy of six feet tall, Will’s firm build and broad shoulders were concealed by his long-sleeved grey T-shirt. Normally well-groomed, Keeghan giggled at Will’s ruffled short brown hair. Obviously he had crawled out of bed and wandered down the hall as she continued to sleep. Did he even bother to brush his teeth or at the very least to use some mouthwash?

  Laying at Will’s feet, their border collie, Constable, lifted her head and looked at Keeghan. Her husband glanced up to greet her, resting the newspaper on the table.

  “Good morning. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No. I heard the birds chirping.” After a quick kiss on his cheek, Keeghan sat on the chair to his right. She took a sip of tea, and then placed the mug on the table. With her head back, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and allowed the warm sun to penetrate her face. “I love this time of the year,” she whispered, almost to herself. “The trees and flowers are coming to life, and it smells so fresh.”

  Will placed his coffee mug on the paper to keep it from blowing in the soft breeze and relaxed back against the chair. Beside him, Keeghan used her fingers to brush the strands of her shoulder-length light-brown hair from her face.

  They’d moved to the oceanfront property in rural Vancouver six months earlier. Will rose before sunrise most mornings. They both enjoyed sunsets over the water. He closed his eyes and let the serenity of the moment envelop her.

  The day was planned. Both she and Will would be busy. Constable required a long walk before they returned to plant the vegetable garden. Once their chores were completed he’d go golfing with his best friend, Jim. Keeghan planned to plant the annuals in his absence.

  He pushed himself up, handed her the morning newspaper and kissed the top of her head. He disappeared into the house to prepare their breakfast. After a meal of fruit-covered pancakes, Will grabbed a light jacket from the closet. Keeghan pulled her hair into a ponytail. Holding hands, they headed toward the worn, wooden staircase that led to the beach.

  Constable raced ahead with Will following behind. Keeghan held the steel railing and began the slow process of easing down the ancient stairway. The rotten wood creaked underfoot. Always the optimist, Will had assured Keeghan he would have a new staircase built within a few weeks when they’d bought their home. That didn’t happen. Instead he became quite imaginative, procrastinating on the maintenance project he detested.

  “I’ll work on a step or two next weekend,” he assured her.

  “A step or two,” she groaned. “It would be easier to hire someone.”

  “I promise. I won’t go golfing again until I replace a couple of them.”

  Constable leapt from the last step onto the sand, stopped, and looked back at them. Safely navigating the last piece of decaying wood, Keeghan stepped onto the hard sand of the beach. The dog ran ahead, jumping over the scattered pieces of seaweed, shells, and small sticks. Husband and wife strolled along, looking for unique seashells the ocean might have left at the edge of the eroding wall.

  The daily treasure hunt was a highlight when the tide was out. Both Will and Keeghan were eager to explore the flotsam left by the receding tide. They made their way back to the staircase. Will noticed the neck of a bottle sticking out from behind an old log. Rubbish infuriated him. Will grumbled, released Keeghan’s hand and walked toward the green glass object.

  “I hate it when people litter,” he mumbled. “Can’t they throw it into a recycling bin instead of the water?”

  A typical dog, always curious and wanting to investigate, their pet darted toward the item.

  “Constable, come here,” Keeghan commanded, pointing to her side.

  With a firm grip of the dog’s collar, she took a small step toward Will for a better view of the uniquely-shaped object. Her curiosity aroused, the item could be someone’s trash or something to be treasured.

  “This looks really old.”

  “Then be careful. It could be fragile,” she warned. “The last thing we need is broken glass down here. A make-work project trying to pick tiny pieces from the shimmering sand.”

  “I hear you. I won’t bang it against anything.”

  Keeghan rolled her eyes. It wouldn’t be funny if the bottle broke.

  Will placed both hands on the log and pulled it free of their newfound treasure. The bottle was partially covered with normal ocean debris when he picked it up to brush off the sand and seaweed. The neck was narrow and then widened, similar to a beer bottle but taller. He turned the bottle in his hands and examined it.

  “This thing is sealed with a cork. Is there something inside?” he questioned. He raised the bottle into the sunlight. His eyes began to sparkle. His lips curled into a smile. “There is something inside. Maybe paper.”

  “You’re like a little kid at Christmas time,” Keeghan teased.

  Will shifted his attention to his wife.

  “And you’re different? You’re just as curious as I am.”

  “Maybe we should put the bottle on the internet. Sell it,” she continued.

  “Right.”

  Neither of them had the patience or inclination to list it just to make a few dollars.

  “I’d rather take the chance of breaking it to see what’s inside.” He gave it another quick visual examination. “Curiosity and all that fun kid stuff.”

  “Patience, my love. We should take it up to the house before we try to open it, just in case it shatters. Little Miss Snoopy here is bound to get glass in her paws.” She looked down at the dog and then back at Will. “We’ll spend our day at the animal hospital with an atrocious bill. You’ll miss your golf game.”

  * * *

  Back at the house, Keeghan walked onto the deck with a corkscrew. Will appeared from the garage with needle-nose pliers peeking from his coat pocket and the recycling bin in his hand. She sat on the cushioned chair. Will took his place beside her. The dog settled at her feet. Holding the bottle over the recycling bin, he carefully dislodged the cork. Fortunately, the glass didn’t break. Will proceeded to insert needle-nose pliers into the neck of the bottle and pulled a rolled-up
piece of thick paper through the narrow opening.

  His face lit up as his eyes sparkled. He winked and then unravelled the scroll onto the table, his thumbs and forefingers holding the edges to keep the paper flat. They both stared at the portrait of what appeared to be a royal family. A king and queen sat on their respective thrones, while two young men stood behind the king with their hands gripping the chair. A young woman posed behind the queen. Her hands were not visible and her posture was uncomfortably stiff. She appeared a bit out of place, her face expressing a pained reluctance at being included. All five were dressed in formal royal attire.

  “Is there anything on the back?” Keeghan asked. “Something to indicate who’s in the portrait?”

  Will shrugged and turned the portrait over. The print was faint, but upon peering closer the words ‘studio’ and ‘Natasha’ were visible.

  “Natasha? I wonder who Natasha was?” Will questioned.

  “No idea.”

  Keeghan turned the portrait back over to study it in more detail.

  “I’d like to know how it found its way into the water. Who would put a portrait like this into a bottle? Who would throw this out? This should be in a museum somewhere. I’m sure the person or persons who removed it from the archives are in trouble,” she remarked.

  “Trouble! That would be an understatement.”

  “I just wish we knew where it belonged so we could return it.”

  “I’d love to sit and try to solve this puzzle, but we don’t have the time today. If you want help getting the vegetables planted, we’d better get started.” He shifted his eyes to the garden and back to Keeghan. “Jim will be here to pick me up for our golf game, and I still need to shower and change.”

  Keeghan loved spending hours in the flower garden, but needed Will’s help with planting the seeds.

  “I know. It’s so much easier with two people. Back to the original schedule. I’ll set the portrait inside the house and put some weight on the corners to see if I can straighten it out.”

  * * *

  An hour later Keeghan and Will stood back to admire their garden masterpiece.

  “I hope we’ve seen the end of the frost.” Keeghan wiped her forehead with her sleeve and took a deep breath. “I hate the thought of covering the plants at night.”

  She looked toward the nearby maple tree that provided the deck with afternoon shade. Their border collie was lying on her belly, her big brown eyes following their every move. Constable sat up as Will squatted in front of her. He placed his hands on the dog’s cheeks.

  “You’ll be outside with us if we have to cover the plants to protect them from the frost this year. I don’t want you to get spooked and growl and bark at the sheets when you’re supposed to be emptying your little bladder before you settle for the night. You get sidetracked far too quickly.”

  Keeghan giggled. It was a trait Will and Constable shared.

  “You’re just like your dad, Constable. You both get sidetracked.”

  Will gave her a quick scowl and then glanced at his watch.

  “That’s it for me,” he announced. “I’m outta here. A quick shower and then I’ll get ready to go.”

  Will disappeared in the direction of the garage. Keeghan removed her jacket and followed him. The door joining the garage to the house clicked shut. Keeghan tossed the garment on the hood of her hatchback.

  She sorted her annuals by type and colour before moving them from the garage to the gravel driveway. The flowers were placed in groups ready for the planters. Will emerged from the patio door in a blue-striped golf shirt and navy cotton pants. The salty breeze ruffled his dark hair. His sky-blue eyes twinkled with anticipation of the first game of the season. Eager to leave, Will stopped by the garage door, pulled the golf bag strap over his shoulder, and walked toward her. About to give her a goodbye kiss, he pulled back.

  “Am I that dirty?”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “How did you manage to get dirt all over your face?”

  “For some reason it gets itchy when my hands are dirty.”

  He chuckled. “The only place left to kiss is your neck, and that makes you squirm. I don’t have time for foreplay let alone the main event.”

  “Don’t forget about the surprise birthday party tonight,” she reminded him, changing the topic. “We’re to be there by eight-thirty.”

  “Yup. Haven’t forgotten—”

  Keeghan turned to see Jim’s vehicle pulling into the driveway.

  “Speaking of the devil, there’s the birthday boy,” Will announced.

  The car came to a stop twenty feet from Keeghan. The trunk of the shiny black import popped up. Will placed his clubs into the trunk, shut the lid, and climbed into the passenger seat. She blew him a kiss.

  “Have a great game, and thanks for the help.”

  Both men waved as they drove off.

  * * *

  Determined to finish her chore, Keeghan ignored the heat of the sun. She continued to mix the soil into the containers and plant her flowers. The dog had left her side and was sound asleep in the shade of the large maple tree. Time to quit for the day, she stood. Exhausted, the blood rushed to her head. The yard spun slightly out of focus.

  “Stupid ass,” she grumbled. “I know better. Of course I’m dehydrated. It’s hot. I’ve been in the full sun without any water. Clean-up will have to wait.”

  Keeghan shuffled her way into the kitchen, yawned, and washed her hands. After splashing water on her face, she pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap. She took a big drink. With too much to carry, she removed a tray from the lower cupboard and placed her glass of water, a dish of red grapes, and the dog’s water dish on it. With Constable’s rope dangling from her fingers, she went outside. She paused as a thought struck her. She returned for the portrait.

  “Well, Constable, Will won’t be home for at least an hour. That hammock you’re lying beside looks inviting. I plan to follow your lead and close my eyes.”

  She placed Constable’s stainless steel dish on the grass. Constable stood, had a drink, and then settled with her head on her paws. Keeghan swallowed another mouthful of water from her glass and sat on the free-standing cloth hammock. Barefoot, Keeghan relaxed into the soft comfort with a handful of grapes and studied the portrait. Content and tired, she placed the portrait on her chest and closed her tired eyes. The last thing she remembered was Constable’s heavy breathing. The dog was equally exhausted from the heat. Keeghan fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. She began dreaming.

  Crazy, wild dreams were the norm for Keeghan, but this dream was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was too realistic. It included Constable, but not Will. The dream began with Constable barking.

  Dreaming, Keeghan sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the hammock. Constable let out another loud bark, staring in the direction of the ocean. Keeghan scanned the property. Unable to detect anything out of the ordinary, she turned her attention back to their dog. Their border collie suddenly darted in the direction of the water.

  “Constable, come. Come back!”

  Ignoring the command, the dog continued running. Having read about a bear in the area, Keeghan jumped off the hammock and ran after her. When she reached the top of the wooden staircase, Constable was already down and leaped onto the sand.

  “Come!” she screamed.

  Constable ran full throttle for the shallow salt water. Keeghan gripped the railing and began her descent. By the time Keeghan reached the last step, Constable was up to her belly in the water. Her mind raced frantically through the bits of research she could dredge up. Keeghan could not recall any information about border collies’ ability to swim for an extended period. Stepping onto the sand, she bellowed the dog’s name.

  “Come!”

  Constable never responded. Determined to catch the dog, Keeghan ran toward the water. Tears blurred her vision. The weakness from the sun exposure dragged at her. The cold spray saturated her lower b
ody, but it barely registered in her muddled thoughts.

  “Constable, come!”

  Keeghan couldn’t keep up to the dog in the deepening water. Within seconds, Constable was out of sight. She strained her eyes. Nothing. She couldn’t see any sign of life. Tears raced down her cheeks. Her legs tingled, going numb from the cold water. Standing waist-deep in the ocean, desperate, she scanned the glistening surface for her beloved border collie. There was nothing other than the small waves.

  She sobbed, devastated, dreading the inevitable conversation with Will. Furious at her own stupidity—how could she have forgotten to tie Constable up under the tree before her nap? The dog was always tied if they weren’t paying attention her. Now, she had lost their pet. Constable had drowned.

  Keeghan struggled to breathe. She worked her way back toward the decaying steps. Once she reached the staircase she turned for one last look. The waves were gone. The ocean had become dead calm.

  The incoming tide reached her thighs. The tide shouldn’t have come in so quickly. How long had she been in the water? She must have lost track of the time. Will should be home. He would be looking for her. She gripped the steel hand railing and shifted her foot in the mucky debris in search of a step.

  She applied her weight to the third step. The wood buckled. Keeghan pitched forward. The sharp edges of the rotting planks sliced across her knee. Pain stabbed her leg. A cramp shot up to her hip and down to her foot. Keeghan released the railing and grasped her throbbing thigh. She lost her balance and fell sideways into the water. Her head and shoulder smashed on the upper steps.

  Excruciating pain. Nauseated, she fought to think straight. As if in slow motion, Keeghan sank deeper and deeper into the cold water. Her chest sank below the surface. She panicked, desperate to reclaim her balance on the shifting sand and climb to safety.