Read Protecting the Dream Online

Authors: Michelle Sharp

Tags: #Dream Seeker 2

Protecting the Dream (7 page)

She looked over at the Hoosier cabinet. Remembered how feelings and images had consumed her when she’d touched it. Taking a few steps closer, she examined it from top to bottom. It really was beautiful, with odd-shaped shelves and tiny compartments everywhere.

Easing closer yet, she turned to make sure Ty wasn’t nearby. She ran a finger over a carved swirl on the front of the cabinet. Nothing. A little braver now, she chewed on her bottom lip and debated. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to connect with Ellie Henderson. She didn’t block Ty’s sister, and that had been going okay.

Taking a deep breath, she relaxed, cleared her mind, and calmed her slightly trembling hand as she placed it on the wood again.

Sensations kicked in, but not like before. These were milder in intensity but longer in duration. The same couple she’d seen yesterday appeared in her mind’s eye. A slideshow of images flashed and faded . . . the house . . . the life the Hendersons had built.

Horses grazing in the pastures.

A wedding.

Friends.

More horses.

Trailers.

The beauty of the estate was breathtaking as final touches were added.

Yet none of the images would exist without their love.

The fence and front gate were the last to be constructed. The stable filled with horses and trainers. This was how Ty remembered it, Jordan was sure.

The entire landscape was bold and beautiful, regal and breathtaking. Just like the couple who’d built it.

Ellie Henderson was tall and lean. Long auburn hair framed her kind hazel eyes. She could only be described as stunning. And Mr. Henderson was a solid, hulking bear of a man. The couple’s connection, Jordan sensed, had been vital and strong, very similar to her bond with Ty.

The house means nothing without the connection.

“Oh God,” Jordan whispered as the vision focused and sharpened. The cabinet had been a surprise gift from Joe Henderson. He’d slapped a big pink bow on it, then steered Ellie into the kitchen. It wasn’t a piece of furniture, it was a piece of Ellie Henderson’s history. Even more, a part of her heart. Joe had leaned Ellie against the big wooden cabinet and kissed her senseless. His hands moved to her breasts, and . . . 

Jordan’s eyes popped open and she jerked her hand away from the cabinet. “That falls under the category of too much information,” she mumbled.

She took a few slow, measured breaths to steady herself and peered closer at the ugly green color the cabinet had been painted. “It hadn’t been green when he gave it to you, had it? Whose bright idea was it to paint it the color of peas?”

Spirits approached her, but she’d never done it the other way around. She’d never sought out a spirit and tried to connect.

How hard could it be?

She had to know—before she and Ty were so committed that they couldn’t leave—if they could live in the Hendersons’ house peacefully. Spirits were just people who lived on a different plane, weren’t they? They weren’t dangerous. Not usually.

But just like people, not every spirit had good intentions. Jordan knew better than to screw with the ones who were pissed off.

Strongly hoping Ellie Henderson didn’t fall into the latter category, Jordan touched the cabinet again and once more looked around. God forbid Ty hear her talking to herself. Or to spirits.

“Hi. Um . . .”

Okay, this is stupid.
What the hell am I supposed to say?

“I’m Jordan. I like your house; it’s very pretty.”

She waited.

Nothing.

“My boyfriend and I were thinking of moving in here, but only if it’s okay with you.” Jordan’s shoulders hunched as if the entire house might tumble down on her head.

Still nothing.

She pulled her hand off the cabinet. Even if the walls did fall down around her, scrunching up her shoulder blades was a dumb defense. “My boyfriend loves this house.” She held up a hand. “I thought he was nuts at first, but it’s growing on me, too.”

Aggravation began to prickle when a big fat nothing responded, not even the sensations that had bombarded her just a few minutes earlier. She felt like an idiot who could answer a phone but didn’t have enough brains to dial out.

“See, I’m going to need a sign. I don’t usually initiate the communication with spirits while I’m awake or, um, ever, actually, so . . .” She looked around—at the ceiling, the floors, the windows—knowing she’d shit bricks if blood started running down the walls or knives began to whip through the air.

Of course, the absolute silence and lack of
anything
happening was beginning to irritate her.

She stood a little straighter, decided to use a different approach. The Jordan Delany approach.

“Okay, fuck it. I’m just going to lay it all out here. We want to move in. Ty is a good man, and he loves this property. No one will ever treat it with as much care and respect as he will. I promise you that.”

Jordan leaned against one of the countertops, frankly miffed. “Nothing? Really? He wants to re-create what you had here. And I want to help him. But I won’t let him stay anywhere dangerous, so if you want us out, we need to know.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m not buying a crystal ball or candles. No séances. No incense. This is it. This is me sharing, and it’s more than I’ve ever done before.” Jordan caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection off the oven door. She was talking to no one.

“Okay then, glad we could share.” That was mostly embarrassing. And not something she intended to do again. Maybe she’d been wrong?

No, she wasn’t wrong.

Something was going on here. Not necessarily anything bad, but still, enough for her to be cautious. Probably nothing to worry about; she’d never been directly hurt by a spirit. But then again, she’d never planned to move in with one, either.

 

Chapter 7

 

It had taken him until late afternoon, but Ty finally had the radiators working in almost every room of the house—a major victory. Jordan had made good use of the cleaning supplies they’d picked up earlier. She’d scrubbed the kitchen and bathrooms spotless. They had food, hot water, heat.

And a bed.

Personally, he could have been happy never leaving the old house again. Yet he wondered if Jordan would ever be content there. After searching all the rooms without finding her, he decided to check outside. He had a hunch where she’d be.

Her boot tracks led into the woods and through the trees. He finally found her sitting on top of a large boulder next to the lake.

From the start, he’d been struck by Jordan’s combination of breathtaking beauty and strength. He remembered the first time he’d caught sight of her—the way the air had jammed in his lungs and his gut had tightened. The same mystifying jab just nailed him again. Would he ever get used to it?

Her long legs were drawn up almost to her chin, and her arms were wrapped around them. Stunning blond hair moved in the breeze as wind rolled off the water. She looked peaceful here. His heart gave a few hard, relieved knocks while he took in the content picture she made. But under the softness, there’d be a gun stashed somewhere on her body. And likely a knife, too. He found the extremes of her personality fascinating. And extremely hot.

He ducked back into the woods and circled around, approaching with the utmost stealth from behind.

“Trying to sneak up on a cop is a damned good way to get a bullet in your head.” She looked over her shoulder. “Or in another part of your anatomy I
know
you value even more than your brain.” Her gaze dropped to the zipper of his jeans.

He winced. “Yeah, I suppose if you’re going to take me out, I would choose my head over, you know, my other head.”

She laughed. “No doubt in my mind.”

He crawled on top of the rock and scooted behind her, putting his arms around her waist. “It’s pretty here, huh?” He sat silently for a couple minutes, gazing out over the lake. It was a perfect spot. “Are those the man-eating ducks from yesterday you were telling me about?”

“Yes,” she said defensively. “They’re a lot more vicious when they’re hungry.”

“Un-huh. I’ll just bet. Especially the two adults. Or was it the little guys that scared you the most?”

“Fine. You come out here with no peace offering around dinner time, and I bet the neighbor lady will have to rescue you, too.”

Ty chuckled. “I’d have loved to have seen that. Even better, I’d love to have a video of it.”

“You’re kind of a big dick sometimes.”

“Just because I have a big—”

She whipped a boney elbow into his gut. “You’re
ruining
my peace and quiet.”

He moved her hair to one side and ran his tongue up her neck, then nibbled on her ear. When he teased her there, she tended to melt against him. A fact that he was eternally grateful for and a weakness he exploited every chance he got.

“I’ve never had any desire to have a home in the country, but it’s really beautiful here,” she murmured, her head resting on his shoulder. “And peaceful, too. I can actually hear myself think.”

“Well, that’s scary. No wonder you have doubts about this place.” He blocked her elbow before she could plant it in his gut again.

Jerking her arms free, she shifted to face him. “You’re such a comedian.” She poked him in the chest. “At least all
my
thoughts don’t revolve around sex.”

“Which is the only reason this may not work out between us. I’m trying to overlook that one minor fault of yours because, otherwise, I like what I see.”

“Oh, yeah?” Agile and catlike, she moved onto his lap, straddled him and moved her hips so that she ground her heat firmly against him. “What else do you like?”

He sucked in a breath. Damned if she wasn’t right; if she was near, his thoughts focused on little besides sex.

“Well, I like your long legs. Particularly when they’re wrapped around me. And you’ve got a great rack. A seriously great rack, baby.”

She laughed. “Anything that
doesn’t
have to do with sex?”

“Let’s see, there’s um . . . Well, there’s . . .”

She started a full-scale assault this time, digging her nails into his ribs. “You are such an ass.”

“Oh, yeah, your ass. Killer ass, Jordan. Truly, none finer.”

The smile fell from her face and she pulled away.

“I’m just teasing, baby—”

“Shhh.” She looked around and then scooted off his lap.

He watched the cool shift of her expression. Vigilant eyes and economical movements. She could slip from playful to professional in a nanosecond, but he hadn’t expected to see it now. And certainly not in the one spot he hoped to be a sanctuary from the streets they worked.

“Is your brother coming over today?” she asked.

“Not until later. Why?”

She held up her hand to silence him.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“For God’s sake, be quiet.” She slid off the rock and faced the trees. Her eyes closed, and her head tilted. “You’re positive Trevor wasn’t coming over?”

“He’s working until seven. Why?”

“Because someone or something is in trouble.” Without another word, she took off, heading straight into the thick of the woods.

He pulled his gun from the small of his back and trailed her.

She hiked over fallen logs and through thick patches of weeds.

“What are we doing?” he whispered.

“I can hear something—a cry or a moan. Like someone’s hurt.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

She shushed him again, and then he heard it. The cry was barely audible.

“Sounds like an animal to me. We should probably leave it alone. Survival of the fittest, you know?”

She rolled her eyes and took off. “That’s crap.”

He followed her. “It’s not crap. If we decide to live here, you need to understand that you can’t patrol nature.”

She stopped, turned a deadly glare on him. “So I should just let some big vicious creature eat some smaller helpless one and call it nature?”

“Exactly.” She seemed to like the property so far, but he worried that if she found animal gore all over the woods, the experience might dampen her enthusiasm. “Okay, you go back to the house, and I’ll check it out. I promise.”

“Really? I’ve been a cop for ten years. For your sake, I’ll pretend you didn’t just treat me like an imbecile.” She stormed off again.

They ducked under some low branches. The unmistakable snarl of angry animals fighting grew distinct and then louder. In a small clearing, a tangle of fur, kicking legs, and bared teeth rolled on the ground, stirring up dust as two dogs tore into each other. Jordan forged ahead, as if she was going to step in and break up a bar fight.

Ty latched on to her wrist and yanked her back, pointed his gun in the air, and shot.

The larger animal—a coyote?—bolted for cover. The smaller bloodied dog attempted to take a step, but fell to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing? Put the gun away. It’s just a dog and it’s hurt.”

“Exactly. And it might be aggressive. You can’t just walk up to it. Christ, Jordan, don’t you know
anything
about animals?”

“Actually, I do, farm boy. We have dogs in the city, too. I had a poodle when I was a child. Murphy slept with me every night. I couldn’t keep him when I went into foster care.” She’d never spoken about pets before, and her tone was defensive. “Plus, a foster family I lived with had three German shepherds. I know plenty.”

She continued to ramble, but his thoughts had halted, hung up on the fact she’d had a pet. A pet that had been taken away after her family’s murder. He sucked in a breath to choke down the quick jolt of anger.

What kind of a fucked-up system takes a dog from a little girl who’d lost everyone she loved? It was a complete miracle she’d survived at all.

She stopped talking and narrowed her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jordan was difficult to navigate at times. But if Ty had learned anything, it was that pitying her would only be salt in the wound. “Well, three dogs in a foster home does make you kind of an expert. I had no idea.”

She nailed him with a screw-you expression, then turned to the dog. “Hey, girl, looks like you’re hurt. We’re going to help you, okay?”

He had to admit that the dog didn’t appear to have enough energy to be aggressive, but he’d spent a lot of years tending animals on his dad’s farm. A wounded animal could be unpredictable.

Jordan dropped to her knees and crawled closer. Held out her hand.

Ty dropped to his knees also, but took hold of Jordan’s ankle. He kept his voice soft like hers. “I’m not joking around. Stay back until I see if she’s going to be hostile.”

Jordan jerked her foot free and continued to inch closer until she sank down with her belly on the ground, nose to nose with the bleeding mess of a dog. She lifted her hand and stroked the dog’s head.

Ty held his breath, but the dog didn’t move.

“Men are so dumb, aren’t they? You’re not hostile, you just need some help.” Jordan’s voice was softer than he’d ever heard it.

An alien invasion of her body? Because her cooing tone was certainly not one he’d ever imagined her using. She stroked the dog’s head and continued to lull it with her voice. “We’re going to help you. You just hang in there.”

Frankly, he was taken aback by Jordan’s connection with the animal. He holstered his gun and moved behind the dog to get a better look at the injuries. A pretty deep gash had ripped open her shoulder, and she was bleeding at the hip. The tip of her ear had been through a shredder.

Jordan raised her head. “We need to get her to a vet. Do you think she’ll let us move her?”

The dog had lost a lot of blood. She probably wasn’t strong enough to be aggressive. He’d test the theory before lifting her into his arms. “I don’t know. Let me put a hand under her and we’ll see what she does. Move away for a second.”

“I’m fine here. She’s a good girl, and she understands we’re just trying to help.” Jordan spoke in the same lilting voice she’d used earlier.

“This might hurt.
Move your face away from hers
.”

Jordan glared at him again, but got the message. She inched back.

Mentioning the possibility of rabies and other diseases would only earn him another death glare.

He experimentally touched the dog’s hip and gently moved her back legs around. She didn’t flinch. Which was good
and
bad, because then he wondered if she had any feeling in her back legs at all.

Jordan got to her feet. “Stay with her. I’m running to the house to get a blanket and the car keys.”

Ty stood, too. “Jordan, wait. She’s been through hell, baby. I think there’s a good possibility she may not make it.”

“So? Do you just want to leave her here to die? You didn’t leave me in the woods to die when I was in that kind of shape.” She closed her eyes, looked almost embarrassed that she’d revealed such a sentiment. “If you don’t want to go, I understand. But I can’t leave her here like that.” She turned and headed for the house.

“Babe,” Ty called after her, “there are all kinds of blankets in the stable. Go there. It’ll be closer. I’ve got my keys in my pocket; I’ll meet you at the truck.”

He’d been sunk the minute Jordan flashed back to their last case. She’d been beaten and left to die in the woods, too. Maybe once you suffered through something like that, allowing another living creature the same fate wasn’t an option.

Kneeling again, he slid his arms under the dog’s body. Jordan was right—there was nothing vicious about this dog. In fact, her big sad eyes seemed to say,
please kill me now.

“Sorry, girl. You’re getting saved whether you like it or not. Please,
please
don’t die on me, or there’ll be no living with her. And please don’t bleed all over Molly.”

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