Donna Hill - Dare to Dream

She hoped that this time away would somehow revive her passion, or at the very least give her a reason to pick up the fragments of her life.

Each time she closed her eyes she had nightmares, terrifying visions of that night, and she’d wake up shaking and soaking wet. She was afraid to be alone and ashamed to be around anyone. Now instead of the scents of turpentine and paint revitalizing her as they once did, they only evoked twisted memories, making her stomach revolt.

Everyone thought of her as “so together,” strong, resilient, able to handle anything. But she was none of those things. Maybe at one time, but now she felt as if she were only a shell of the woman she once was. Would she ever be all right again? Ever? Would the constant fear that hung in the center of her chest ever go away?

Inadvertently a shuddering sigh rushed up from her chest and escaped across her lips.

“Desi? Are you okay?” Rachel quickly glanced in her mirrors, then eased the car onto the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Rae, I…feel so lost, like I’m drifting. I have nightmares every night. I can’t paint, I can’t think…” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“Desi.” She clasped her left shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. You just need some time. You’ve been through a trying ordeal. Anyone who’d been in your place would feel the same way.”

Desiree sniffed hard and reached in the glove compartment for a tissue. She dabbed at her eyes. “I know. I keep telling myself that,” she said and wiped her nose. “Some days it helps and other days it doesn’t.”

“Are you sure you want to go to the shore? You know you can stay with me. Maybe it’s too early for you to be alone.”

“I’ll be okay. I have to be. I know I can’t keep living like this every day.” She turned and looked at Rachel. “I just can’t, Rae.” She tugged in a deep breath and forced herself to smile. “I didn’t let you come all this way for nothing. Let’s go.”

* * *

Lincoln strolled across the grounds behind his property, gravel and sand crunching beneath his sneakered feet, and walked toward the water. From his vantage on the hill, he could see for miles across the cloudless sky. The water was a soothing blue and moved in gentle ripples along the shoreline, seeming to meet the deeper blue of the heavens in a seamless line along the horizon. In the distance the white sails of the private boats could be seen flapping in the late summer breeze.

When he’d stumbled across the abandoned site four years earlier, he immediately saw its potential.

The eight cabins were nestled among manicured bushes, imposing gray rocks and a brook that ran in a crisscross pattern throughout the two-mile stretch of grass and sand. The main house was a stone’s throw away from the water, and from its vantage point on the high hill it was a fairy-tale view at night.

But all that potential took work to be realized. What were now luxury cabins with all of the latest amenities had been shaped from a series of eight shacks in desperate need of repair. Everything from new plumbing to walls and new roofs were part of the renovations.

Yet with all the extras, the cabins still maintained an intimate, homey feel to them that his guests loved.

The Port had become his balm, a place to soothe his soul, a place to immerse himself in his efforts to get over Desiree. He poured all of his energies into creating this haven, praying that at the end of the day he would be too damned exhausted to think or feel. Some days his efforts paid off. Many times it did not, and she would creep into his thoughts, beneath his skin.

Lincoln inhaled deeply the salt-filled air and he could almost feel her fill him as she had always done. But he knew how empty he truly was inside. When would the emptiness be filled? He closed his eyes for a moment as the images came rushing back.

The sounds of laughter floated upward from the shore and pulled him from the thoughts that constantly engulfed him. He opened his eyes, turned and slowly walked back to the main house.

* * *

“Terri, I’m going into town,” Lincoln said as he approached the front desk. “I should be back in an hour or so. Is there anything we need—you need?”

Terri put the guest register aside. “We’re pretty well stocked with everything. We had a shipment of supplies on Friday.”

Lincoln nodded.

“Are you okay, Mr. D.? You seem so out of it lately.”

He chuckled. “Naw, I’m okay. Didn’t know it was that obvious.”

She tipped her head to the side and smiled. “You’re pretty lousy at hiding your feelings, Mr. D.”

“Guess I have to work on that.” He tapped the desk and walked toward the door. “See you later.”

Driving always had a way of relaxing him, he thought, as he trotted down the four steps to the driveway and got behind the wheel of his black-on-black Lincoln Navigator. He had to do something to keep his mind off of Desiree’s impending visit. More than once, he’d thought about leaving The Port and staying at his place in Manhattan until he was sure she was gone. But he realized the only purpose it would serve would be to delay the inevitable. He always believed that at some point in life he and Desiree would meet again and be forced to confront their demons. That it would be here and now meant that the time had come.

He took a turn onto the main two-lane road to be met by a speeding car that came right at him. He swerved violently to the right and onto the shoulder to avoid a head-on collision. Squealing to a stop, he looked in his rearview mirror. The tan Volvo continued down the road and turned off onto the same road he’d come from as if nothing nearly disastrous had just occurred.

Lincoln spat out a string of expletives before pulling himself together and getting back onto the road.

“Some people need to have their licenses taken away,” he grumbled.

* * *

“Idiot!” Rachel yelled.

Desiree held her hand to her chest. “Jeez, Rae. That was close.”

“It’s obvious that whoever was behind the wheel doesn’t practice any road courtesy,” she huffed, attempting to hide how shaken she was behind a blast of bravado. She gripped the steering wheel.

“Well, just relax. It can’t be too much farther.”

Desiree peeked into the passenger-side mirror and watched the magnificent black stallion of a ride disappear as Rachel turned onto the next road. An unsettling sensation floated upward from her belly and gripped her heart. She suddenly felt hot and cold as if something had passed over or through her. Her heart beat a little faster but she was no longer sure if it was a result of their recent scare…or something else. She glanced in the mirror again and saw nothing but road and trees. She took a deep, cleansing breath and pushed the odd feelings aside.

Chapter 6

Rachel pulled up to the main house of The Port, an imposing white structure, reminiscent of mansions in the old South, complete with pillars, a wraparound balcony and an enclosed porch all embraced by towering willows that swayed gently in the light breeze off the water.

“Impressive,” Rachel said, easing the car to a stop.

“Very nice.” Desiree opened her door and stepped out. She looked around and immediately felt a sense of ease and tranquility move through her.

Terri opened the front door, came out onto the porch and waved. “Welcome to The Port,” she said, approaching the duo. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Yes, except for a near mishap on the road,” Rachel grumbled.

“Sorry about that. I’m Terri,” she said, extending her hand to Rachel and then Desiree.

“Rachel Givens.”

“Desiree Armstrong.”

“Oh, Ms. Armstrong.” Terri smiled. “I know you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”