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I turned my head to Jane, struggling to peel my eyes from him. “Why is that cowboy crying?”
Tears shined in Jane’s eyes, and I could see only one thing in them. Love.
“Who is that?” I asked, needing to know. I needed to know everything about him.
She blinked and wiped away her tears. “He’s so stubborn, sweet girl. You are going to have to be patient with him, you know? The past hasn’t been kind to that cowboy.”
I looked back and forth between the broken man and her. “I don’t understand.”
“You will,” she promised. “Now, take my hand.”
My book was gone, and I took her hand. She wrapped her other over the top of mine. “Here’s what you need to do, Valerie…”
Jane started fading before my eyes, as well as the scene around me, fading into a warm, white sea. Her touch was gone, and she was nearly gone, too.
“What, Jane?” I cried out. “What do I need to do?”
I was floating—drifting in an endless space of white now, alone.
I felt the tug again.
Then, I was dropped on my feet, back in the forest. Now, it was on fire. I looked down at my body. My skin was covered in dirt and my dress. It was red now, torn down the middle. Frantically, I looked around, and then I realized…
I was back at the stream, except it wasn’t green and thriving. It was charred and smoke lingered in the air. No, it wasn’t lingering. It was reaching out to me from the forest, stretching and surrounding me.
This was gray smoke.
A familiar gray.
A comforting gray.
I looked up and sucked in a breath. Jane was here again, except now, her dirty blonde hair was down, surrounding her face. She was wearing a cream dress and a blue jean jacket.
“Jane?”
“You have to go back, do you understand? You can’t stay here,” she said gently.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if I leave,” I admitted.
She gave me another small smile and lifted her chin. “Breathe, sweet girl. That’s all you have to do. Breathe for him. Trust him. Be patient with him. Love him. That’s all, sweet girl.”
“I don’t…I don’t know how.”
“Breathe for him.”
“Breathe for me, Valerie. Breathe for me and never stop.”
Air. Burning. Gasping. Gripping. Light, sunlight. A shadow.
A man. A man’s face.
Eyes.
Gray eyes.
“Smoke,” I whispered.
Denver’s face crumbled above me, his handsome features twisting in disbelief. “There she is. There’s my enchantress.”
