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The Wyoming skyline filled his vision. He stood on a precipice overlooking a great prairie, the Big Horn Mountains rising like craggy giants from the grassy plains, sentinels from a time long forgotten. As far as Jeremiah’s eye could see was a vast wild landscape, untouched by man, uncontaminated by electronic waste.
A sense of beginning filled him as he stared with wonder at what could only be described as a pristine, virgin land. This was the stuff of country and western music, ballads and cowboys.
A spire of smoke caught his attention. Within seconds, the smoke gathered and caught until the shrubs and grasses curled and disintegrated beneath the onslaught of the flames licking the mountains and threatening to destroy everything in the fire’s path. Frightened animals charged and bleated, running for their lives as certain death rained down with orange fury. He watched in helpless horror as everything beautiful and free succumbed to the ravaging fire, leaving nothing but blackened destruction in its wake.
Jeremiah sank to his knees and found himself off the precipice and down in the destroyed valley. His hands dug into the charred earth, and charcoal stained his fingers. Tears wet his cheeks and he began to clear away the dead grass to the soil beneath. He continued to dig until his fingers sank into fresh, clean dirt that was cool and moist to the touch. He stilled as a butterfly alighted on his shoulder, seemingly incongruous with the bleak landscape. When he looked again, his fingers were clutching green shoots of grass that had poked their way through the hard crust of devastation.
And as quickly as things changed in a dream with no rhyme or reason, Jeremiah was kneeling before Tyler in a deep conversation, yet Jeremiah couldn’t understand a word his son was actually saying. Tyler grinned as he chattered gibberish and Jeremiah fought the frustration of not being able to comprehend his son and simply went to pull the boy into his arms for a tight, desperate squeeze but his son was gone like mist dissolving in the harsh ray of sun.
“No!” Jeremiah fought the panic and the growing sense that he was slowly awakening. He didn’t want to wake up if it meant his son wasn’t there waiting for him. Tyler was alive in his dreams. Jeremiah wanted to stay. But sleep was losing its grip and the cobwebs of dreams were already dissolving, leaving behind a general sense of grief and sadness.
He awoke slowly to Miranda staring at him with concern. “You were yelling in your sleep,” she said softly.
It was still dark; he must’ve dropped straight into REM as soon as his eyes closed with exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her close. He was grateful when she didn’t resist or try to remind him that it was inappropriate. She rested her head on his chest and he held her tightly. He didn’t care about the why or how but Miranda calmed the wild panic fluttering in his chest and he desperately needed something to cling to. The dream had left him on the edge of sobbing wildly when he hadn’t felt that overwhelming tidal wave of grief in a long time. It scared him that he could tumble so easily into the abyss when he’d thought he’d left that far behind.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he lied. “I’m fine.”
If she didn’t believe him, at least she didn’t call him on his falsehood.
And he was grateful because if she’d pressed just a little, he wasn’t sure what might’ve been unleashed. All he knew was it wouldn’t have been pretty.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MIRANDA AWOKE SLOWLY. Disorientation caused her to panic until she felt Jeremiah beside her. She settled against the comforting bulk of his body and allowed herself to enjoy something that had never before given her joy. Snuggling, cuddling, spooning...simply weren’t part of her repertoire. But with Jeremiah, such intimacy felt normal.
She wanted to ask him about his dream. Something had caused him to cry out in his sleep. She knew it wasn’t her business but she couldn’t bring herself to forget.
“How long have you been awake?”
Jeremiah’s sleep-roughened voice gave her a silent thrill. She smiled. “Long enough to know that you snore.”
“Everyone snores in their sleep.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never let people sleep over, so no one has ever complained.”
“That makes two of us.”
She arched an eyebrow as she rose up to meet his gaze. “Is that so? So back home in Wyoming were you a love-’em-and-leave-’em sort of guy?”
Jeremiah chuckled. “There was no loving being done. Before coming to Alaska and meeting you I’d been on a self-imposed dry spell, remember?”
