Dream Wakers: The Veiled Prophecy (Book One)

Chapter 9

....her hand slipped out of his and she fell into the darkness, watching the strings of light snap and break above her.....

Emmy woke tangled in her sheets. The pressure on her forehead pin needled behind her brow. The booze blurred the lingering dreams that churned in her mind as she rolled to sit up. Pressing all her fingers into her eyes, she tried to focus on what happened the night before.

Emmy was mortified. She knew better than to let a simple attraction get out of hand. She couldn't be known as a loose girl. She wasn't.

"Twenty-four hours and you already kissed him," she groaned to herself.

The air conditioning hummed overhead and light seeped shamelessly through the thin blinds. Emmy rolled over, trying to remember just how many beers she had last night, wondering if her hangover was from alcohol or her interaction with Cutter. She cursed under her breath. Slowly, she attempted to rise out of bed, and stretched on her toes. She scrunched her nose as she ran her hands through knotted hair, trying to remember when she had last brushed it.

The past few weeks must have taken a toll on her. So had the weird episodes. It had to the reason she was acting out. Deciding to dwell no longer on something that upset her, she shrugged and went to get dressed. If she didn't focus on it, it would probably just stop after a little time.

"Now," she muttered, "what do I need to do today?"

She paced around the room looking for her clothes. She found them crumpled by the door.

"Well, I guess some shopping is what I want to do."

She reluctantly put on her wrinkled outfit and headed toward town for her breakfast. Emmy never cared for being fashionable, but she had always been clean.

When she arrived, the unkept mess she had put on made her self conscious. The diner was packed at one o'clock with families well dressed and fresh out of church. Tugging at her jeans, she crammed herself in a corner booth when a group vacated, trying her best not to be noticed.

Sherry Jean whizzed over to her, scowling as she poured a cup of coffee.

"I can't believe you came in here looking like that," she scorned, jumping on the chance to scrutinize her. "If you aren't going to show up at church, the least you could do is look presentable on the Lord's day. You said you were staying a while, didn't you?"

Emmy shrunk into the corner.

"Eggs and bacon please," she whimpered.

Sherry Jean went buzzing off to attend her regulars.

"More coffee, Mr. Fassenbach?"

"No."

He watched Emmy. Ethan had undoubtedly scrambled her brain, there was no question about it. The poor girl barely knew which way was up. He frowned, thinking about the potential she could have had, the money he could have made, but his superiors had their reasons. He shoved a piece of toast in his mouth, wanting to be sure it was her before making any calls to her husband.

......

Cutter woke lazily in his bunk, feeling rested and alive. Sunday was the only day he could submerge back into life before Wyoming. He slept in too late and grabbed the cold leftovers in the mess hall where the cook had made habit to leave some. He leaned against the large sink, gnawing on a hunk of bread, still reeling from Emmy's impetuous kiss.

She was hard to peg. She constantly tried to hide whatever made her nervous. She shied away from human contact, and traveled alone. Then she'd turn around and talk to him like an old friend. And kiss him like a familiar lover. His shoulders relaxed thinking again of her body pressed against his. He had to see her again, whatever it took.