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had a feeling that if she allowed herself such a luxury, she would never be able to stop. |
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''He loves you. You love him. I know you do." Josie's fingers tightened on D.J.'s. D.J. concentrated on the warmth of the angel's hand. How could an angel's hand be so warm, so real? Had anyone ever held her hand this way? If they had, D.J. would remember. She'd remember because this human contact when she needed the comfort felt too good to forget. |
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Then the reason she had come to the woods in the first place reasserted itself in her mind. The longing she'd experienced for McCall when she'd thought she would die receded as she recalled the drawing he'd made of her and their children. "You gave him my dream," D.J. choked out past the thickness in her throat. "What he feels isn't real. You made him feel it." |
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"What dream?" Josie wrinkled her nose in confusion. |
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"My dream. The one about the field and the wild-flowers and the children. The beautiful dream you gave me to take away my nightmare. McCall had the same dream last night. Now he thinks he loves me. That we're meant to be together. That I'm his damned soul mate. You tricked him just as you tricked me." |
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The anger felt good, replacing the tears and making D.J. feel more in control of herself. She removed her hand from Josie's and shifted until they no longer touched. The angel didn't comment on D.J.'s withdrawal, though D.J. saw the hurt flash through Josie's eyes. |
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