Page 45 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

Chapter Twenty-Six

“You know, Brec,” Molly continued, her smile fading, “you said it was ‘just a dream,’ but the reason I was so shaken was”— she picked at a loose thread on the bottom of her ratty T-shirt— “that it wasn’t just a dream. It was a premonition.”

His forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

Her chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh as she commenced to picking her nails. “I mean that dreams are one thing—as insignificant for me as they are for everyone else. But when it comes to my nightmares?” She snuck a nervous glance at him beneath lowered lashes, throat muscles bobbing several times. “They usually end up being as real as the gun under my pillow.”

He stared. “Get out,” he said, voice suddenly hoarse.

“I wish I could”—her words were barely a whisper—“get out from under this awful sixth sense that I have, which never bodes well for me or other people.”

He swallowed. “Please tell me I haven’t been in any of your awful nightmares …”

“No …” Her cheeks heated at the memory of the kiss in her bed, which had been anything but awful, although the attraction it stirred had certainly become an emotional nightmare. “At least not yet,” she said with a note of levity, grateful for the distance she’d been able to put between them romantically.

She grinned when he inched his chair further away with a deadpan expression, quite certain her smile and laughter quotients were way up since Striker Man had arrived.

“So, what nightmares have come true to convince you of this?” His manner turned sober as he leaned back like her, head resting on his chair while his gaze pinned to hers.

She expelled another sigh. “Too many to mention, but mostly when I was young, and they always had to do with death somehow. You know—the neighbor’s cat. My aunt’s dog. My pet lizard”—her throat dipped as she looked away, voice tapering low—“my grandmother.”

“Gosh, Molly, I’m sorry. That must have been rough.”

She nodded while managing a forced smile. “It was for a little girl, but lizards and cats are easy to get over, but my grandmother?” She gave a half-hearted shrug. “She had stage four cancer, so everybody knew she was sick, but nobody knew when it would … you know.” She swiped at her eyes as her mouth tightened. “Except me.”

Brushing her melancholy aside, she sat up against the headboard with arms crossed and chin raised. “Fortunately, as I’ve matured, they’ve happened less and less, thank God.” She paused while she stared straight ahead, teeth tugging at her lip. “Till the last six months.”

“What’s happened in the last six months?” His tone was cautious.

“Well, to start with, I dreamed that Tyler cheated on me before it actually happened.”

She heard the sucking of air through his teeth as he gave her a pained expression. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. I had that one a few months before the real nightmare hit, and although I was upset at the time, it didn’t bother me as much because it had nothing to do with anyone dying per se.” Her mouth slid sideways. “Just my heart.”

“What else?” he whispered, as if wanting to get her past the pain of her last comment.

She drew in a bolstering breath and slowly released it again. “Well, a month before Miss Lilly fell into the lake, I ...”—a shiver rattled through her while she hugged her waist—“I dreamt that she almost drowned.”

Brec shot straight up, along with his brows. “What?”

Nodding, she rubbed at her arms, hoping to chase the chill away. “In the dream, we were working in her garden, chatting, and the next thing I know she’s gone. I look around and don’t see her, so I go in and call through the house, even running upstairs, but no answer. And that’s when I looked out her bedroom window to see her flailing in the lake. Heart in my throat, I tear downstairs to the back door to go out, but the door wouldn’t open. And that’s when I heard it, a truly demonic whisper. ‘She’s going to die,’ it said, and then I woke up … so frantic, that I raced downstairs to see that sweet woman drinking tea in the dark at her kitchen island.”

Brec’s audible sigh of relief matched her own as she shook her head. “Looking up as innocent as you please, that little stinker actually had the nerve to recommend I take magnesium to help with my sleepwalking!”

Brec’s smile was short-lived. “I’m forever grateful you actually did pull her out of the lake, Molly, but how did you discover her in the first place? The same way as in your dream?”

“No.” A familiar calm suddenly settled on Molly that reminded her as a woman of faith, she was never alone. The edge of her lips tipped up. “God woke me up.”

“Come again?” Brec’s brows dug low.

Molly faced him head-on with a twitch of a smile. “I was so distraught after that nightmare about Miss Lilly drowning, that I prayed God would wake me up in time if anything happened to her, and He did.”

Brec arched a thick brow. “He did,” he said in a flat tone that wasn’t even a question, the look on his face confirming religion was not a favorite subject of his.

“He did.” Molly gave a firm nod, battling the urge to grin. “I was sound asleep when I heard someone call my name.”

“Your name.” His deadpan expression almost made her laugh out loud.