When Dreams Come True

“How long have you been back?”

“Five days.”

“Five days! Why did it take so long to let me know you were alive?” She was determined not to feel hurt, but it gripped her in its powerful talons.

“Zoey, I wasn’t in the best of shape. The jungle can be hard on a person’s body. I was in a hospital, then I had to be debriefed.”

“Hospital!” She collapsed into a chair next to Dane, her whole body trembling. “I should have been there.”

“I didn’t want our reunion to be in a hospital and Carl wanted me to be checked out thoroughly before leaving Dallas. I even had to see a psychologist.”

“How many people knew you were back before I did?” she asked, the hurt she couldn’t keep at bay lacing her question. Again she was reminded that she had often come in second to his job.

His gaze snared hers, dark, hard and unreadable. “Not many. I didn’t want the media to get a hold of it before I had a chance to see you.”

“Thank you for that.” Zoey gripped the table’s edge and leaned into it. “I still want to know what your plans are. Where do Blake, Mandy, Tara and I fit into your life?”

He hesitated, taking a long sip of his coffee.

His silent wall was in place. She might have changed in the past two years, but Dane really hadn’t. He was still quite good at shutting her out of his life. “Never mind. That says it all.”

He finally pierced her with that probing look of his. “Says what? That I’m not sure what I’m going to do? That I’ve spent the past few years wondering who I am? That I’m still trying to fill in some gaps in my memory?”

Her anger fizzled as quick as it surfaced. “What gaps?”

“I don’t remember anything leading up to the crash and right afterwards. They tell me Bob Patterson, my partner, was on the plane. I don’t remember any of that. So you see, I haven’t had time to decide what I’m going to do.”

She didn’t want to add to Dane’s pain, but she had her son to think about, too. Blake was hurting. “Blake’s worried you’ll leave soon.” And so I am, she silently added.

“I’m not—”

The door eased opened, and her son came into the room, a pout on his face, his eyes downcast. He plodded to the cabinet and prepared himself some cereal, then started eating it at the counter.

“Blake, please have a seat,” Zoey said in a gentle voice, aware how fragile her son’s emotions were at the moment because they mirrored hers.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, his attention trained on his bowl as though it were the most delicious food he’d ever had.

Zoey scooted back the chair next to her. “We don’t eat at the counter. We sit down as a family at the table.”

He huffed, then grabbed his bowl and trudged to the table where he plopped into the chair. Not once did he look toward Dane. But his father watched him, a sadness in his eyes that ripped apart Zoey’s fragile control. Putting her family back together wouldn’t be easy. Like Humpty Dumpty, the nursery rhyme she often read to Tara, it might never be accomplished.

Silence, thick and heavy, lay like a blanket over the room. Zoey swallowed several times to coat her parched throat, searching for something to say to ease the tension. Nothing came to mind.

“Blake, I hear you have a soccer game later this morning. What position do you play?” Dane asked, cupping his mug between his hands and bringing it to his lips.

“Forward,” her son mumbled, barely audible.

“I used to play in high school and college. I was the goalie.”

Blake continued to eat his cereal, his movements quickening as if he couldn’t finish fast enough. Finally he spooned the last bite into his mouth and shot to his feet. “Mom, may I get ready to go to Nate’s?”

Zoey nodded, her throat constricted.

After putting his bowl in the sink, Blake hurried from the kitchen. Zoey looked at Dane, wishing there was something she could do to make the situation better between father and son.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, you know,” Dane said into the quiet that again reigned.

“What?”

“Be gone for two-and-a-half years.”

“It’s more than that, Dane. He thought you had died. He had to deal with those emotions and now he realizes that wasn’t really what happened. He didn’t handle it very well then and I’m afraid he might not handle it very well now.”

“And what about you?”

Chapter Three

“Are you asking me if I handled your ‘death’ well?” Zoey remembered the days of numbness, of not feeling as though she could get a handle on anything, and never wanted to revisit that time—not even in her memories. Despite often coming in second in Dane’s life, hers had revolved around him. His disappearance had shaken the very foundation of her life to the point she’d had to grapple with who she was.

“I suppose I am.” One corner of Dane’s mouth hitched up in a self-mocking smile that reminded her so much of the old Dane, self-assured of every move he made.

“I’d rather not talk about the past right now,” was all she could say.

“I guess I deserve that.”

She didn’t want to reveal the depth of her despair. That would leave her open to being hurt by Dane all over again, and she wouldn’t allow that to happen—once was enough. She shoved back her chair and rose. “I’d better get Tara fed, then we need to leave if we’re going to get any shopping done before the soccer game.”

“I’m eager to see Blake play. I just wish he was eager for me to see him play.”

“Give him time. He’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right. It’s been a while since I’ve been a father.”

The wistful tone in Dane’s voice bothered her more than she cared to acknowledge. “It’s like riding a bike. If you fall, you can pick yourself up and try again.” Zoey prepared Tara’s breakfast, then started to sit and feed her.

Dane waved her away, taking the spoon and dipping it into the cereal. “I’ll do this.”

She glanced about her, needing something to do. She couldn’t just stand there and stare at Dane feeding their youngest daughter. Watching him with Tara brought emotions to the surface she wasn’t ready to deal with. How many times had she wished for this very thing? She had prayed for Dane to be a part of the children’s lives—her life—again, but how long would this last? Their discussion of what he was going to do underscored all the reasons she should guard her heart from further pain. He had broken it once before, and she had finally patched it together. She couldn’t go through that anguish again. Zoey began cleaning up what few dishes remained, then placed a call to her mother to make sure it was all right for Mandy to join Tara.

When Dane was finished, he wiped Tara’s face and hands, then lifted her from the high chair. “We’re all ready.”

Zoey scooped up Tara’s dishes and placed them in the sink to take care of later. “Then let’s go.” I need to be around people, she thought and headed for the front of the house. At the bottom of the stairs she called, “Blake. Mandy, it’s time to go.”

Mandy bounded down the stairs with one of her dolls clutched in her hand. “Nana’s making some clothes for Mrs. Giggles. They should be ready today.” She raced out onto the porch, leaving the front door wide open.

At a much more sedate pace Blake came down the steps, dressed in his soccer uniform, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped, as though he were going to do something he hated to do. But Zoey knew he loved to play soccer, which made his demeanor even more worrisome. She wished she could erase his troubles and make everything all right. But life wasn’t that simple, and her son was going to hurt because of that. Again she felt a helplessness—any control she had over her future gone.

When Blake reached the bottom, Zoey laid her hand on his shoulder, intending to draw him into an embrace, to let him know she would be with him every step of the way. He wrenched away and hurried toward the car.

“I’m sorry, Zoey. I know this can’t be easy for you, either.”

She looked at Dane, saw his usual neutral expression in place and struggled to keep her anger in line. What would it take for him to open up to her? Was it even possible for him to share himself totally with another person? How was this marriage going to survive when they really didn’t know each other anymore? How was she going to forgive Dane when he kept a part of himself shut off from her still? Not trusting her enough to share his innermost thoughts? Nothing had really changed in their marriage since he’d been gone. She remembered the desperation and sadness she’d felt right before his last assignment. It came to the foreground, demanding attention.

“It’s hard watching someone you care about hurting,” she finally said and followed her children to the car.

Zoey dropped Mandy and Tara off first at her mother’s house, then Blake at Nate’s. The silence in the car after the girls left was nerve-racking. Zoey flipped on the radio to fill it, but nothing lessened the tension churning in her stomach.

When she pulled into a parking space at the super center, she quickly exited the car and hurried toward the store. Suddenly she needed some distance, which thankfully Dane gave her for a few minutes. His nearness caused so many conflicting emotions to surface that it was hard to grasp onto any one feeling for long.

She waited for him with her shopping cart inside the door. Slowly he made his way toward her, his gaze intense as it bore into her. She had no idea what was going on in his mind. And to think about what he must have endured the past few years made her heart throb painfully. What she’d said to him before leaving the house was as much about him as Blake.

She gave him a tentative smile to try and ease the strain in their strange situation. She felt the corners of her mouth quiver from the effort, but she managed to maintain the smile. “I need to pick up some odds and ends. If you want to meet me back here, we can check out together.”

For a good minute he didn’t say anything. He scanned the rows and rows of items and for a fleeting few seconds a bewildered look entered his eyes. “I’d forgotten how big these stores are. I’ll come with you. I just need a few personal items.”

“We’ll pick up the coffeepot first.”

“You won’t get a complaint from me.”

“I noticed you didn’t eat much breakfast. That was usually such an important meal for you. Is there anything I can get you for breakfast?” she asked, needing to fill any silence between them with idle chatter. The silence allowed her to think, which had been the main reason she had tossed and turned the past night—that and the fact Dane was only a few rooms away. Those few rooms might as well be a continent.

Again Dane didn’t respond right away. Zoey slanted a look at him and noticed the tightening about his mouth. She didn’t know what to say to him—what was a good topic for conversation.

“I’m sorry, Dane, if—”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Uncomfortable, Zoey wheeled the cart toward the small appliance area.

“My love for coffee hasn’t diminished. I just haven’t gotten the chance to indulge like I used to. In fact, I haven’t indulged in much lately. I must say, what the jungle had to offer is quite different from what this store has to offer. Makes you appreciate the small things we take for granted.”

Even though he sounded cavalier, her throat ached with suppressed feelings. His closed expression prohibited further discussion. He’d always insisted he kept quiet about his work to protect her. He’d never understood she’d needed to share the bad as well as the good with him.

She compelled herself to smile. “Then after we shop here, I know a store that sells the best coffee in this part of Kentucky. We’ll have to hurry, though. We don’t have much time before the game.”

“Why, Zoey, it’s so good to see you. I heard the news. Is this your young man?” Susan Daniels, her mother’s best friend, asked, planting herself in their path, her sharp, assessing gaze on them.

Zoey knew they wouldn’t be going anywhere until they had satisfied the older woman’s curiosity. “Susan, this is my husband, Dane Witherspoon.”

He nodded, a finely honed tension emanating from him. “Pleased to meet you.”

“My, what a ruckus you’ve caused in this little town, young man. Coming back from the dead. You must tell us what happened sometime.”

Dane stiffened. “There’s not much to tell.”

Waves of tension rolled off Dane. Zoey stepped between him and Susan. “I wish we had more time to talk, but Blake has a soccer game in less than an hour and we still have a lot of shopping to do. We’ll have to chat another time.” She maneuvered her cart around the older woman and continued toward the small appliance aisle, hoping Susan Daniels didn’t follow.

“You can slow down now, Zoey. I think we lost her at ladies’ clothing,” Dane said behind her.

Zoey glanced back. “Are you sure? When Susan wants to know something, she’s ruthless in her pursuit.”

“Then she’s met her match,” Dane said with a thread of steely determination she’d heard on more than one occasion.

She stopped in the middle of the small appliance aisle. “You have to realize, Dane, that everyone will want to know all the details.”

“It’s none of their business.”

“But that’s the way small towns are, especially since you never came with me and the children to visit Mom. You’re a mystery to them.”

“My past is just that, in the past.”

Realizing the people of Sweetwater had truly met their match in Dane, Zoey grabbed a box from the shelf. “I need a few cleaning supplies and some cat litter. Then we can get your things and get out of here.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“People wanting to know your private affairs.”

“Sure, but you get used to it. There are some good things about small towns.”

“What?”

“I’m not alone. If I have a problem, there’s always someone around to help me.”

“Is that why you moved back here?”

“Yes. It wasn’t easy, but like you, I’d just as soon not discuss it. We can both have our secrets.” Which she knew wasn’t a good basis for a marriage, but she was determined to protect herself. Being the only one opening up in a relationship wasn’t good. She’d lived through that kind of relationship once before, and she wouldn’t do it again.

They quickly finished shopping and checked out. Walking to the car, Zoey was aware of people watching them, a few whispering to the person next to them. The people of Sweetwater meant well and cared about her and her family, but their interest was making the situation even more awkward than it already was.

At the car she said, “I forgot to ask earlier. You can drive if you want.”

His eyes clouded. “No, I’m not familiar with the town yet, and it has been a while since I was behind the wheel of a car.”

Dane had always insisted on driving before. He didn’t like anyone else driving when he was in the car. This change surprised Zoey, but she kept her thoughts to herself as she backed out of the parking space and headed toward the coffee shop on Second Street.

“You can wait in the car. I’ll get this,” Dane said as though he needed to show his independence.

Zoey watched her husband walk into the shop, say a few words to the lady behind the counter, then wait for her to fill his order. Zoey took deep breaths, but her chest still felt tight. Again, the feeling they were only polite strangers assailed her. How did they get past that? She couldn’t see going through the rest of her life skirting certain issues, pretending nothing was wrong when everything was.

Please, Lord, I feel so lost. I need Your help. What do I do now?

Nothing came to mind. Her shoulders slumped, and she rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She felt like the Hebrews wandering in the desert looking for their home. Lost. Alone. Miles and miles of barren land before her.

The sound of the door opening jolted her, and she straightened. Dane slid into the front seat, his expression unreadable.

“Dane, before we get to the soccer fields, I want you to know there will be a lot of people there and they’ll be curious about you and what happened. A few may even ask questions.”

“I can’t stop them from asking.” A half grin slipped across his mouth. “Thanks for warning me.”

“They’ll mean well.”

“I know.”

“They’ll just be concerned about me.”

“And they don’t think I am?”

Her grip on the steering wheel strengthened until pain shot up her arms. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what you think anymore. Everything has changed.” She started the car and pulled out onto the road.

A heavy silence greeted that declaration. Tension mounted in the car, and it took all Zoey’s concentration to keep herself focused enough to drive to the soccer fields. She felt as though she were in an intense struggle—for her marriage, for her future—all in the span of fifteen hours.

“I know, but—” He couldn’t complete his sentence, his words dissolving into that uncomfortable silence.

She parked the car. “It looks like Blake’s game is about to start. We’d better hurry.”

“I’ll be along in a sec,” came Dane’s clipped response.

She climbed from the car and strode toward the bleachers, feeling the drill of Dane’s gaze into her back. A shiver flashed up her spine, and she rubbed her arms. Still the cold embedded itself deep in her bones. She sat next to Jesse Blackburn and offered her friend a smile that died instantly.

“Your mother called me and told me everything.” Jesse took her hand and squeezed it.

Zoey pictured her mom on the phone all morning before they had dropped off the girls, spreading the news to Zoey’s circle of friends that Dane had returned from the dead.

“I know it can’t be easy for you. Anytime you want to talk I’m here for you. We all are—Darcy, Beth, Tanya.”

“I know.” Zoey gulped, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat that made speaking difficult.

“I’ll try to fend off these vultures.” Jesse glanced around her.

“Shh,” Zoey said with a shaky laugh. “Don’t say that too loud.”

“It’s true. They’ve all been waiting for you to come. Your mom said it didn’t go well with Blake.”

Zoey found her son on the field with Alex Stone, the high school principal, who coached her son’s team. “No, it didn’t.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to make it all better.”

Alex clasped Blake on the shoulder and leaned down to say something to her son. Zoey dragged her gaze away from the pair, praying one day that Dane and Blake would regain the close relationship they’d once had. “My problem now is how do I make this all better for my son.”

“Be there for him. Like you were when you thought he’d lost his father.”

A deep sigh escaped Zoey’s lips. She remembered the long struggle after Dane’s disappearance with Blake resisting any attempt at help. A bone-tired weariness blanketed her as she thought of the path ahead of her—and Dane.

Her husband was back, but for how long? It had taken her a long time to learn to stand on her own two feet after he’d disappeared. She’d married Dane right after college and had never really been on her own until she’d been forced to with his disappearance. Over the past few years she had slowly learned to depend only on herself. She would hold this family together somehow, but she would keep her heart guarded.

Dane eased down next to her. She wanted to take his hand and hold it, to convey her support, to begin to forge a future for them, but his closed expression stopped her. She trained her gaze on the field to watch the start of the game, the tension between her and Dane razor sharp. He had pulled into himself even further. She suspected to protect himself. It was something he was quite good at doing. And it was something she was going to have to learn to do if she was going to survive this upheaval.

Toward the end of the first half Dane leaned close and whispered, “The coach is very good with our son.”

“Yes, Alex is. Blake can count on him.”

“But not me?”

Zoey pulled back and looked long and hard at Dane. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I wasn’t there for Blake when he obviously needed it. I’m glad someone was. I just wished it had been me.”

This time she did take his hand. “So do I.”

“But it wasn’t me, Zoey.”

“Dane—”

He forced a smile to his lips. “Maybe I should ask this Alex for pointers. I’m certainly going to need them with my own son.”

Suddenly Zoey felt conscious of the people around them listening to their conversation. She pressed her lips together and resolved to pursue this discussion later even if Dane’s expression was now cloaked, as though he regretted that brief glimpse of vulnerability.

At the half, the people around them introduced themselves to Dane and welcomed him to Sweetwater. He evaded their questions about where he had been and what he had been doing. Keeping secrets, holding himself apart from others, came so effortlessly and naturally to him that Zoey didn’t know if he could truly be a member of a family or a small town like Sweetwater.

When Wilbur Thompson kept wanting to know what he’d been up to these last few years, Zoey knew living in a small town was going to propose a lot of problems for Dane. Dallas had suited him well because he could get lost in a crowd. Sweetwater would eat him up alive because many people like Wilbur didn’t take no comment for an answer.

Finally Dane looked Wilbur in the eye and said, “I can’t help you, Mr. Thompson.”

Wilbur opened his mouth to pursue the subject, stared at the diamond-hard expression in Dane’s eyes, and clamped his lips together with a snort. The older man went back to sit at the top of the bleachers next to his wife, clearly not pleased that his curiosity hadn’t been appeased.

Zoey was thankful when the second half started, and everyone sat down again. Jesse decided to join Dane on the other side of him so he was between her and Zoey.

“Just in case anyone else wants to pry. They’ll have to crawl over me to get to you,” Jesse whispered, loud enough that many of the people heard. A few laughed.

“I thank you for your assistance. I didn’t relish getting into a fight the first day in town, especially with a man thirty years my senior.”

“And since Wilbur’s son is the police chief, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. That man thinks everyone’s business is his. He fancies himself an amateur detective because of his son’s profession. He says it runs in his genes.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Well, I guess it is. Wilbur’s son, Zach, even tried to court Zoey a while back. Finally he gave up. He’s not like his daddy. He knows when to cut his losses and move on, thank goodness.”

Zoey was wondering if she could stuff a sock in her friend’s mouth. Jesse was way too informative, but then she always knew what was going on in Sweetwater, sometimes before the people involved.

Dane grinned. “I know that if I need any help you’re the one to come to.”

“Yep. I’ve always been there for Zoey. Been her friend since grade school. We lost touch when she was in Dallas, but now that she’s back, we’ve picked up where we left off as though a day hasn’t passed. I’m the one who encouraged her to apply for the counseling job at the high school. She needed something to do and she’s really good at helping the students.”

“Jesse,” Zoey cut in, “how’s your son doing?”

Jesse leaned around Dane, a puzzled expression on her face. “Zoey, he’s right there on the field next to Blake. He’s fine.”

“Yes, I see. But didn’t you say he was having trouble with his ears?”

Jesse waved her hand. “That was last week. He’s on medication again for another ear infection, but he’s much better.”

Dane straightened, his attention focused on Blake moving down the field toward the goal. Their son paused, aimed and kicked the ball. It shot toward the goal. The goalie dove for it but missed it by a few inches. Both Zoey and Dane leaped to their feet, cheering when the ball sailed between the goal posts for a score.