When Twilight Comes - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,19

something to eat before noon.

Jenna, now that she had the duffel bag of money, was probably eating a nice big room service breakfast in some fancy hotel.

The thought ruined his day.

JENNA WOKE TO RAIN. It plinked against the window, driven by a harsh wind.

She rose at once and went to check on Lexi. Her daughter was sleeping like an angel, and Jenna felt such relief it brought tears to her eyes.

She climbed into bed next to her and snuggled close, breathing in the sweet scent.

Lexi stirred, rolling over, her big brown eyes widening in surprise to find her mother in her bed.

“What are you doing here?” the little girl asked, smiling.

“I got cold and got in bed with you,” Jenna said. It was one of the excuses that Lexi used when she didn’t want to sleep alone.

Lexi smiled, recognizing it, and gave her an I-know-better look. “I had a dream about the ocean,” she said, and proceeded to tell about swimming in the salty surf. “I had a big dog that ran in the water and splashed me. The dog was black and white and had floppy ears and a big tongue.” Lexi giggled at the memory.

Jenna smiled at her daughter, thankful that the dream had been a pleasant one. Her own dreams had been disturbing. “That sounds like a wonderful dog. But what did Fred think about that?”

As if on cue, Fred crawled over them to let out a loud meow, making it clear he wanted his breakfast.

Jenna hated that they had to get up and get going. She would have loved to stay in the bed, talking and giggling with Lexi.

Or go back to sleep. Back to the dream. It felt unfinished. She flushed with heat at the memory of the man in it. The dream had left her frustrated and aching for fulfillment. For release. Worse, she’d dreamed about the man from the old photograph.

How odd was that? But she knew she’d probably conjured him up because he was safe. The photo had been taken seventy years ago. The man had been about her age then. He was long dead, long forgotten. Safe.

Jenna swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Her body felt too alive, her skin tingling as the dream refused to fade.

“I put some clothes out for you to wear,” she said over her shoulder to her daughter as she headed for her own bathroom. “And no bouncing on the bed!”

The bedsprings instantly quieted, making her smile.

As she walked through the living area, she noticed that the hotel suite seemed less ominous in daylight.

She went to the window and looked out at the rain-drenched mountainside. The courtyard itself was still shrouded in fog. She dreaded just the thought of driving off this mountain in such poor visibility. Or was it leaving the dream that she dreaded?

She called for a rental car—and wrecker—and was told both would be sent as soon as possible.

“I don’t want to leave,” Lexi moaned from the bed. “Clarice and Fred don’t, either.”

Jenna looked back at Lexi’s pouty face.

It was so cute, she had to smile. “We’ll play a game on the way into town. We can have breakfast at the first café we see.” She thought of Lexi’s dream of running on the beach with a dog. She didn’t see why they couldn’t have a dog someday. Or why they couldn’t live on the beach. “How would you like to go to the ocean?”

Lexi’s eyes lit up as she scrambled to her feet and began to bounce on the bed again. Fred dug his claws in to hang on, making them both laugh as Lexi bounded off the bed, then jumped back on to retrieve her doll.

“We’re going to the ocean,” Lexi told Clarice. “That’s where we’re going to live. We’ll have a new daddy, a nice daddy, and a dog.” She turned to Jenna. “What is the name of our dog?”

Jenna could only shake her head, her heart breaking all over again at Lexi’s wish for a new daddy. “You’ll have to pick a name for your dog. Now hurry and dress so we can get going.”

Lexi did so, mumbling under her breath to her doll things Jenna was sure she didn’t want to hear.

As she padded to her bedroom, the dream hung around her like a cocoon, images flitting in and out, vague and muddled. But that desperate feeling of wanting, of needing, made Jenna ache.

The harder she tried to remember the dream, the more