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When Dreams Come True
Margaret Daley


When her DEA agent husband's plane went down, Zoey Witherspoon thought her life was over. But with two kids to care for, and another on the way, she moved back home to Sweetwater to be closer to friends and family. Two years later, her world was turned upside down: her husband was alive!Amnesia-stricken Dane wasn't exactly the same person he'd been, but neither was Zoey. She refused to return to the fractured marriage they'd shared - workaholic Dane had never been around - yet moving forward was a scary prospect. Would a second chance at happiness make all her dreams come true?









“So family is important to you now,” Zoey said without thinking.


She hadn’t meant to add to his pain, but she had lived through her son’s silent suffering, through the years of watching Dane go off on one assignment after another, leaving her and the children alone to cope with his prolonged absences.

Dane flinched. “Ouch. You’re certainly blunt.”

“Something I’ve learned to be over the past few years. A lot about me has changed.”

“And a lot about me has changed.”

“Then we aren’t the same two people who married fourteen years ago?” she asked.

“No, and being strangers isn’t a good foundation for a marriage.”

“I agree. But we have three children and we made a vow before God that I intend to keep.”

THE LADIES OF SWEETWATER LAKE:

Like a wedding ring, this circle of friends is never ending.




MARGARET DALEY


feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun.

Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for over twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and participated in many sports with her students.




When Dreams Come True

Margaret Daley








Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me! For my soul trusts in You; and in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge, until these calamities have passed by.

—Psalms 57:1


To my husband, Mike, who is a wonderful support, and to my son, Shaun, whom I am blessed to have as a son. I love you both.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader




Chapter One


“Mommy! There’s a man here to see ya!” Mandy Witherspoon yelled.

With a shake of her head, Zoey Witherspoon dried her hands on a towel. “Mom, I don’t know how many times I’ve told that child never to open the door to a stranger. Will she ever learn to listen?”

Emma Bradford laughed. “You should have seen you at that age. You want me to see who it is?”

“No, I will, then have a word with my daughter. It’s a good thing we live in a safe, small town.” Already headed toward the kitchen door, Zoey glanced at the clock over the desk and realized how late the hour was. Who would be visiting right before the children’s bedtime?

When Zoey stepped into the foyer and saw a tall, thin man through the screen, she held back the scream that demanded release. She blinked. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. But when she focused on the man again, she realized the impossible had occurred.

The pounding of her heart threatened to squeeze the air from her lungs. Slowly she moved toward the front door, past her daughter. “Mandy, go help your grandmother clean up.”

The sound of her daughter racing toward the kitchen faded, and all Zoey heard was the thundering beat of her heart pulsating in her ears. She opened the screen door to get a better look at the man on her front porch.

Her eyes slid closed. It can’t be Dane.

Zoey braced herself with a deep, fortifying breath and opened her eyes to stare at the man who had returned from the dead. She took the few steps separating them and laid her hand on his chest to feel the strong beat of his heart against her palm, to assess what she was seeing was real—very real. Then without a word, she threw herself into his embrace.

He kissed the top of her head, then her forehead and finally her lips. A brief, searing touch of their mouths that left Zoey even more shaken. The warmth of his body emphasized how alive her husband was.

Finally pulling away and looking up into the face that had haunted her dreams for the past two-and-a-half years, she whispered her husband’s name, “Dane.”

“Hello, Zoey.”

“They told me you were dead. I—” No other words came to mind. Releasing the doorknob that she’d clutched so tightly to keep herself upright, she stepped back to allow him into the house.

“They were wrong.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a self-mocking grin that didn’t stay long.

Tears welled into her eyes at the sight of him. He was thin, almost gaunt. His face was clean shaven, but she could tell that he’d worn a beard until recently. His black hair was cut short and sprinkled with strands of gray now, even though he was only thirty-eight. Before he had left on his last assignment he had never had any gray. But the most startling difference in her husband was his eyes. When she looked into them, she saw nothing of the man she’d known and loved. For a brief moment she’d glimpsed a vulnerability in his eyes that he would never have allowed to show in the past. A shiver flashed down her spine as she realized he was a stranger to her.

Standing in the middle of her foyer in her home in Sweetwater, she swallowed several times, feeling as lost as he had been to her. “What happened, Dane?” she asked, her words thick with the tears she was frantic to keep bottled inside. She’d fallen apart once before—when she’d heard the news of his death. It had taken so long to claw her way out of the emotional abyss she’d wallowed in. She vowed then she would never put herself in that position again. She had more than herself to think about.

“As you know, the plane crashed over the Amazon. I was lucky. I was thrown from the plane when it hit the trees. The Xinga tribe saw the fire from the crash, found me unconscious and nursed me back to health.” A shutter dropped over his features. “I didn’t know who I was until recently.”

The thought of what he must have gone through threatened to overwhelm her. She again touched his arm, weaved her fingers through his as though that link would solidify her dream of her husband returning to her and the children. He still stood in the foyer. This was no vision, but reality. “You had amnesia?”

Dane sidestepped away from her touch and turned into the living room. He sought a chair and sat as though he physically couldn’t stand any longer. “Yes. For a long time I only had glimpses of my life, but nothing to help me piece together who I was.”

“How about the other two people in the plane?” She sat across from him, her own weariness after a long day at work catching up with her.

“From what the Xingas told me, because I was thrown from the plane, I was saved. The pilot and Bob Patterson weren’t. There was little left of the plane, only bits and pieces that had broken off from the main body before it caught on fire.” He released a heavy sigh. “I know you have a lot of questions, but I’d rather not go into the details right now.”

“But, Dane—”

“Please,” he cut in, his blue eyes continuing to convey that vulnerability she never would have associated with her husband. “I realize when I left we were talking about separating, but I hope I can stay here for a while. I need…” His voice trailed off into silence.

“Of course,” she said to fill the awkwardness that had descended. There would be time later to discuss what had happened between them right before he’d gone on his last assignment, to talk about what he had gone through the past two-and-a-half years. “Blake has grown a lot. He’s going to be tall like you. In fact, he’s the spitting image of you.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Dane said with a lopsided grin that she’d often thought of as cocky, but not now.

“And Mandy will be so excited when she realizes that it was you in the foyer.” Zoey paused to catch her breath. “She just didn’t recognize you. She was so young when you…disappeared.”

A soft expression entered his eyes. “She looks like you. She’s beautiful.”

Zoey peered away. There was so much she needed to tell him, so much she needed to understand. “There’s something else.”

He straightened, one brow arching.

“We have another daughter, Tara. She was born seven months after you—” Zoey paused for a few seconds, having almost said died “—left.”

“Another daughter?”

The wonder in his voice tore at Zoey’s defenses. Tears burned her eyes. She’d shed so many that first year Dane had been gone. How could there possibly be any left?

“Yes, that’s one of the reasons I came back to Sweetwater.” And the fact I hated living in Dallas, lost in the crowd of people with no family there as support. She remembered the struggle to pull herself together after Dane had disappeared. For years her life had revolved around him until she wasn’t even sure there had been a Zoey Witherspoon, a person independent from her husband. She didn’t want to get tangled up in that kind of pain ever again.

“So much has changed. I can’t believe I have three…” Silence snatched the rest of his sentence.

Zoey waited for Dane to continue. She needed him to tell her more, to share with her what he was feeling, thinking. He surged to his feet and began to pace as though he were an animal confined to a small cage and checking out his domain.

That was the Dane she was used to—the man who shut her out of his life, who kept secrets from her because of his job in the DEA, who was driven by a restless energy. Please, Heavenly Father, help me to be strong.

Zoey leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands together. “Does your boss know you’re alive?”

“Yes.”

Shocked by his answer, Zoey asked in a voice laden with budding anger, “Why didn’t Carl let me know you were?”

“I told him not to. I wanted to be the one to tell you face to face. I didn’t think it was something that should be handled over the phone or by a stranger appearing at your door. Too impersonal.”

“What are your plans, Dane?”

He stopped his pacing, tension coming off him in waves. “Would you believe I don’t have any plans at the moment?”

That was hard to believe because her husband had always been so focused. “How about your job at the DEA?”

He raked his hand through his short hair. “I don’t know. Carl told me to take some time off and we’d talk when I’ve fully recovered. He encouraged me to get reacquainted with my family.”

That surprised Zoey. In the past his boss had always demanded one hundred percent from Dane. To Carl, family had always been second, and he’d expected the people who worked for him to feel the same way. Again she was reminded of all the problems they’d had before Dane’s disappearance. But that wasn’t important right now. Dane’s recovery and reappearance was all that counted at the moment.

“Do you have a spare bed I can use?”

His question reinforced the barrier that had been slowly building up between them before he’d left for South America. She supposed it was a good idea not to share the same bedroom. He hadn’t come right out and said it, but his meaning had been clear. They weren’t the same two people as they had been when they had married. It wouldn’t be fair to either one to put that kind of strain on their fragile relationship. “I don’t have a spare bed, but the couch in the den makes up into a comfortable one.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to staying in a motel.” He took a step toward her. “I want to get to know you, Blake, Mandy…and Tara all over again. There are still parts of my life that are fuzzy, but I’ve been told being home will help.”

She rose, the reality of their situation beginning to sink in. So much had happened in the past few years to both of them. The gulf between them at that moment seemed extremely wide. “Let me go talk with the children, tell them you’re alive, then I’ll bring them in here.”

He peered down at his clothes as though checking to make sure he looked all right. The black pants and gray knit shirt hung off his frame. “Carl had someone buy these for me. He told me I’d fill them out in no time.”

“Are you hungry?” Zoey gestured toward the kitchen. “I can fix you something to eat.”

“Maybe later. I want to see the children.”

Yes, first her children. How was she going to explain Dane’s reappearance to them? “I won’t be long.”

A wry grin erased the worry in his expression. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She returned his smile. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? It’s no trouble.”

“I don’t think I could eat right now.”

Zoey looked at the lean lines of his face, the pallor beneath his tanned features, a tic that twitched in his jawline, and wanted to insist he eat something. He’d never liked her fussing over him in the past. She kept her mouth shut and headed toward the kitchen.

When she entered the room, her mother glanced up, concern carved into her expression. “Honey, is everything okay?” She lifted Tara from her high chair.

“Mandy, why don’t you go in the den and watch TV with Blake for a few moments?”

After her daughter disappeared, Zoey turned to her mother, who held Tara in her arms. Her youngest played with her mother’s dangling earring. “Mom, that stranger at the door was Dane.”

Stunned, Emma sucked in a deep breath, her eyes round. “No!”

Zoey nodded. “He lost his memory when his plane crashed. Some Indians saved him. Until recently he hadn’t remembered who he was.”

Her mother shifted Tara to her other arm, burying her face in the toddler’s hair. “But the government was sure he had died.”

“The government made a mistake.”

Emma moved toward Zoey. “Oh, honey.” She took her into her arms with Tara between them. “What are you going to do?”

“Pick up the pieces of our marriage and start over. I need to tell Blake and Mandy now that their dad has returned from the dead.”

“Do you want my help?”

Her mother had supported Zoey through some tough times after Dane had disappeared. Zoey moved back to her hometown because she’d realized she couldn’t do it alone. After three months in Dallas trying to support her family financially and emotionally, she’d finally admitted she’d needed help and turned to her family and the Lord. She never regretted that choice. But right now she knew she had to do this alone, as so many things in the past few years.

“Just take care of Tara.” Zoey lay her hand along her youngest child’s jawline, feeling the softness beneath her palm. “At least you, my sweet, will be all right.” She kissed Tara’s cheek, then went to find her other two children.

In the den Zoey switched off the television, raising her hand to quiet the protests from Blake and Mandy. “We need to talk and I can’t do that with the TV on.” Sitting on the couch, Zoey patted the soft brown leather cushion. “Come here and sit with me.”

Blake sat down next to her without a word while Mandy plopped down on the other side and bounced a few times as though testing the plumpness of the cushion. The whooshing sound permeated the silence. Zoey marveled at how much energy her daughter had after a long day playing and helping her get dinner ready.

“Mommy, who was that man?” Mandy finally settled next to her and looked up at her with her big, brown eyes that reminded Zoey so much of her own.

She didn’t know where to begin. Blake had been nine when his father had left on his last assignment. And her five-year-old daughter hardly remembered the father who had been gone a lot that last year before he’d disappeared.

“Mom, is something wrong?” Blake asked, frowning.

“Mommy, did that man make you sad?” Mandy’s mouth turned down in a frown, too, always imitating her older brother.

Zoey slipped her arms around her children and brought them close to her, savoring their nearness for a few seconds before she had to break the news. Mandy would be all right, but Zoey worried about Blake’s reaction. He hadn’t taken his father’s death well, withdrawing into a shell for months after his father’s disappearance. She’d tried to reach her son, but he was a lot like his father. He kept things bottled up inside.

Realizing she had been frowning herself while trying to find the best way to break the news to her children, Zoey forced a smile to her lips. “No, the man didn’t make me sad. Not at all. In fact, just the opposite. I have some great news to share with you two.” She drew in a deep breath and held it before releasing it through pursed lips. “The man Mandy is talking about is your father.”

“Dad?” Blake pulled away, confusion knitting his brow. “But—I don’t understand.”

“Honey, your father has come home.”

“Are you sure it’s him? He didn’t look like the pictures we have.” Mandy hopped off the couch and faced Zoey, her face screwed up in a thoughtful expression as though she were picturing the man at the door and trying to reconcile in her mind that person with the photos she had of her father.

Both of her children peered at her as though she didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. “Your father was believed to be dead, but he isn’t. He’s returned to us.”

“Where was he? Why did he stay away? Why didn’t he come home?” Blake asked, his voice rising as he bounded to his feet.

Zoey tried to grasp his hand, to tug him close to her. She wanted—needed—to hold him. Blake shuffled farther back, his scowl firmly in place. She didn’t have all the answers for her son. She didn’t know what had really happened and, knowing Dane, might never completely. All she could tell her children was what little she knew. “Your father was hurt and couldn’t remember who he was until recently. He’s in the living room waiting to see you two.”

“Did he bring me a present?” Mandy asked, hurrying toward the door. “Maybe he’ll play a game with me or read me a story.”

Zoey didn’t have a chance to answer Mandy. She flew out of the room, leaving Zoey alone with her son, who looked as if he wasn’t going to budge an inch.

“Honey, your father didn’t choose to be gone for these past few years. As soon as he could, he came back to us.” Drawing on her reserve of strength, Zoey stood and extended her hand toward Blake, noticing the slight tremor in her fingers. “Come talk to him, please.” When her son didn’t move, Zoey dropped her hand to her side and walked toward the door. “We’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.”

For months after his father had disappeared, Blake had cried himself to sleep. He hadn’t understood his father being gone for good. He’d wanted his playmate back—the man who rode him around on his shoulders, played ball with him, built sand castles at the beach with him. After the first year Blake had refused to discuss his father with anyone. She’d had the minister at their church and a counselor speak with Blake, but still he wouldn’t talk about his father. Finally over time everything seemed to be back to normal. Now she wasn’t so sure.

When she entered the living room, she found Mandy sitting next to Dane on the couch. Dane cradled Tara next to him, his eyes unusually bright as he took in first one daughter, then the other. Her mother had brought her youngest to meet her father.

Mandy stared at something cupped in her hand, wonder in her expression. She saw Zoey and leaped up, racing to her. “Look what he brought me. Coins from another country. They’re different from ours. Look!” Mandy thrust them toward her.

Zoey picked up one and turned it over. “They’re pretty.”

“Yes.” Her daughter closed her fingers around the coins and went back to Dane. “Thank ya. I’ll put them with my other treasures.” She stood in front of him now, not quite sure what to do.

Zoey came to her side. “Maybe you would like to show your father your treasure box.”

A smile brightened her daughter’s face. “I’ll go get it.” Mandy ran from the room and pounded up the stairs.

Zoey stared at the entrance into the living room, wondering if her son would appear. Dear Lord, what should I do about Blake? She chewed on her bottom lip and tried to think of what to tell Dane about their son.

“Mandy’s full of life.”

“That she is. There are days she can run me ragged.” Zoey turned back to Dane, whose gaze was glued to his youngest daughter, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“She looks just like you, too. I’m glad. I wish I had known. I—”

The pain in his voice shredded the composure she’d fought hard to maintain for her children’s sake. Her heart hammered against her chest, the beat vibrating in her head. Zoey peered at him and saw that glimpse of vulnerability she’d caught in his expression several times earlier. Sensing her regard, he quickly masked his look with a neutral one, something he was very good at doing. This was the Dane she knew—the one who didn’t know how to share his feelings, who held a part of himself locked inside, the person her son was so similar to.

Exhausted from the past hour, Zoey collapsed in the chair next to the couch, wanting as much distance between them as possible in a room that had suddenly become small.

“Where’s Blake?” Dane asked, his gaze fixed on the entrance into the living room.

“In the den.”

“Is he coming in here?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Dane tensed, the only indication that her words had affected him. “Why not?”

“When you…disappeared, Blake didn’t take it well.”

“But I’m here now. I know this isn’t easy, but—”

Again that pain laced his voice and stabbed through her heart, through all the defenses she had erected. “But, what?” Tell me what you’re thinking, she silently added.

Pressing Tara to him, he shuttered his look and rose. “I’ll go have a word with him.”

“Don’t.”




Chapter Two


Dane froze. “What do you mean, don’t? He’s my son. I haven’t seen him in over two years.”

“I know.” Zoey stood, her legs shaky. “When you didn’t come home, he took your disappearance very hard. He cried for months, then clammed up and wouldn’t say a word about you.”

Dane closed his eyes for a few seconds, shaking his head. “Then he should be glad I’m back.”

“He’s—” she searched for a word that wouldn’t be too harsh “—upset. I don’t think Blake knows what to feel right now. Give him some time. He loves you very much. I think he’s afraid you’ll leave again for good.”

“I need to see—” Dane clamped his jaws together and stared toward the entrance as though debating whether to ignore her advice or do as she had requested and give Blake some space.

“Please, Dane. I realize this is hard on you.”

“Hard! I nearly died in that plane crash. If the Xingas hadn’t found me and taken me in, I wouldn’t be here. The first few months after the crash I was—” He snapped his mouth closed, gulped, then continued in a stilted voice, “I want to see my son, hold him.” He buried his face in Tara’s blond curls and breathed deeply while his daughter played with the buttons on his shirt between knuckling her eyes.

“So family is important to you now,” Zoey said without thinking. She hadn’t meant to add to his pain, but she had lived through Blake’s silent suffering, through the years of watching Dane go off on one assignment after another, leaving her and the children alone to cope with his prolonged absences. But the worst was never knowing what was really going on with her husband.

Dane flinched. “Ouch. You’re certainly blunt.”

“Something I’ve learned to be over the last few years. A lot about me has changed.”

“And a lot about me has changed.”

“Then we aren’t the same two people who married fourteen years ago?”

“No, and being strangers isn’t a good foundation for a marriage.”

“I agree. We have three children and we made a vow before God fourteen years ago that I intend to keep.” Her emotions had gone through a roller-coaster ride tonight, as she was sure Dane’s had as well, and she was too tired to get into a discussion about their future at this moment. She was glad when she heard Mandy pounding down the stairs.

Zoey’s mother followed Mandy into the living room and took Tara from Dane. “Dane, I’m glad you’re home safe. I’ll get her ready for bed while you spend some time with Mandy.”

“Thanks, Mom. She’s starting to rub her eyes. Never a good sign.” At Dane’s questioning look, Zoey added, “When that happens, we have about half an hour to get Tara to bed before she falls apart. You don’t want that. She can scream the roof off when she’s tired enough.”

With her treasure box clasped in her hands and a wide smile on her face, Mandy plopped down on the couch next to Dane and carefully opened the old pink-and-white gift box she’d received her last birthday. “See the rock I got when we went hikin’. And look at this coin Jesse and Nick gave me. That’s when they went to—” Mandy peered at Zoey, her brow furrowed.

“To England.”

“Yeah. Isn’t it neat?” Mandy held the coin out in the palm of her hand for Dane to inspect.

“I loved different coins when I was a little boy. I had a collection.”

Zoey blinked, surprised at what Dane had said. She hadn’t known that. When she thought about it, Zoey realized she really didn’t know a lot about Dane’s childhood. Both his parents were dead, his mother from an illness. He had cared for his younger brother for a while, but he’d died when Dane was twenty-one. He’d refused to discuss his past, just as he’d refused to discuss his job. After years of asking, wanting to share his pain and help him, she had given up.

“Where’s the coins?”

Dane cocked his head to the side and thought for a moment. “You know, Mandy, I’m not sure. I guess I lost them.”

Mandy hugged the English coin. “I’ll never lose my treasures.”

Zoey listened to her daughter as she went through all her other prize possessions, cupping them in her small palm to show Dane, then letting him pick them up and examine them. Zoey knew in that moment it wouldn’t take long for Dane to win Mandy over.

Ten minutes later Mandy finished her presentation with a big yawn. “What’cha think of my treasures?”

“I can see why you take such good care of them.”

“And it’s time for bed, young lady. In fact, it’s past your bedtime,” Zoey said, a tightness in her throat from watching the exchange between Dane and Mandy.

“But, Mommy, I want to stay up and talk to Daddy.”

“If you hurry, I’ll tuck you in and read you your favorite story,” Dane said, his words sounding thick, forced. He put the last treasure back in the box and closed its lid, his face averted.

Mandy leaped to her feet and without a backward glance rushed from the room. Dane still didn’t look up.

Zoey chuckled, needing to ease the tension in the room. “Home less than an hour and she’ll do anything you say. Of course, she loves for someone to read her favorite book to her. That’s the only way I can get her into bed without an argument.”

Finally Dane’s shuttered gaze met hers. “What’s her favorite book?”

“This month it’s Henrietta’s Cat. After she can recite it to you, her favorite book changes.”

“I remember how Blake loved to be read to when he was her age.”

The wistful tone in Dane’s voice tugged at Zoey’s heart. She wanted to comfort him, and yet a barrier stood between them that had slowly grown since he’d first arrived, a barrier that had been firmly in place the day he had left on his last assignment. It was as if they both began to remember the past and the problems still unsolved. An awkward silence fell between them. All Zoey heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Dane cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair several times. “Well, I guess—” He rose, uncertainty in his expression.

“It’ll take Mandy a few minutes to get ready. In the meantime, let me get some bedding for you.” She started for the stairs. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Zoey, Carl said something about you being a counselor at Sweetwater High School.”

“Yes, I had to do something to support the children. Our savings wasn’t much, and you weren’t legally declared dead yet, so I couldn’t get the insurance. I love counseling the students and using my education. Now, I’d better get that bedding.”

Zoey hurried up the stairs, leaving Dane alone with his turbulent thoughts. Zoey was a high school counselor. She had a whole other life without him. Her life had moved on while his had come to a screeching halt over two years ago. Memories bombarded him. He felt the heat of the fire. He heard the sounds of crunching metal. He squeezed his eyes closed and massaged his temples, trying to erase those aching memories, always just out of reach, never quite clear enough for him to piece the whole picture together.

A sound from the hallway drew his attention away from the past. He glimpsed Blake peering around the corner. He stepped toward his son. Blake darted past him and flew up the stairs. Dane wanted to go after him and pull him into his embrace, but the look on his son’s face kept Dane rooted to the floor. The anger in Blake’s expression made him realize Zoey was right. His son wasn’t ready to accept him back into his life. Pain clawed at Dane’s chest, constricting each breath as he inhaled deeply. Why had he thought it would be simple? That he would waltz right back into his old life and pick up where he’d left off? Did he even want that old life back? What did he want?

Dane scanned the living room and remembered a few pieces of furniture from when they’d lived in Dallas. But so much was different—the house, the town, his wife, his family. He’d desperately needed it to be the same, so he could completely reconstruct his life, fill in the few remaining holes in his memory. He felt the walls closing in on him.

He strode from the living room, fleeing out onto the porch as quickly as Blake had gone upstairs. Taking deep breaths of the crisp, spring air, Dane listened to the night silence around him. Somewhere in the distance a car started. A dog barked. The constriction in his chest eased.

He was in the United States, in Kentucky, Zoey’s hometown. He wasn’t in the rain forest any longer, trying to survive in an alien environment while trying to recover his health and remember. He was getting stronger each day. He had his memory back—mostly.

“Dane, are you all right?”

Zoey’s worried voice penetrated his thoughts. He needed to answer her, but his throat was tight with emotions he refused to acknowledge—was afraid to acknowledge.

“Dane? I saw Blake run to his room. Did you two talk?”

Frustrated, he pivoted, his arms stiff at his sides. “No, I didn’t go against your wishes, if that’s what you want to know. He ran past the living room and up the stairs before I could say a word to him.”

“Give him some time. He’ll come around.” She hugged the bedding to her.

“And what about you and me?”

“I suspect we all need time to adjust to the changes.”

“Because we aren’t the same two people?”

“That and because we both remember what our marriage was like right before you left. A lot has happened to us in the past few years.”

Weariness settled on his shoulders and laid heavily about him like the humidity in the jungle. He retrieved his duffel bag he’d put down before knocking on the screen door. “Here. Let me take those sheets and pillow. I can make up the bed. Just point me in the right direction.”

Zoey moved to the side and gestured down the hall. “The den is at the back of the house. When you’re through, Mandy should be ready for a story.”

He started past the entrance into the living room and paused. “Do you need any help?”

Zoey’s brow creased. “Help?”

“Yes.” He indicated the dishes still stacked on the dining room table from the family meal earlier. “I interrupted you cleaning up after dinner.”

Zoey shook her head. “That’s okay. It won’t take me long. We ate late tonight because we’d been at my friend Darcy’s farm. Mandy’s taking riding lessons on Friday evenings and Blake had an extra soccer practice.” She remembered the times they would clean up together, especially when they were first married, and how often they would end up in some kind of playful fight, sharing laughter, sharing a kiss. Those memories were too much for her at the moment because that had been a long time ago and a lot had happened since then.

“I’ll read Mandy her story, then I’ll look in on Tara. I’ll wait on Blake. Which bedroom is his? I don’t want to bother him and cause anymore trouble.” Dane’s voice was stiff and formal as though it was necessary to put a distance between them.

“The one with the closed door.”

There was no expression on Dane’s face as he headed toward the den to put up his duffel bag and bedding. The silence of the house, usually a balm, eroded what composure she had left. Moving into the living room, she sank onto a chair, hugging her arms to still the trembling that quickly spread throughout her body. Shudder after shudder left her vulnerable and uncertain what to do next. She buried her face in her hands and massaged her fingers into her temple. How was she going to keep her family together?

“Zoey?”

Her head snapped up, and she stared at her mother hovering over her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Is Tara in bed?”

“Yes, it took a while to get her to go down. Dane’s saying good-night to her right now.”

“He is? I didn’t even see him go by.”

“Maybe because you were deep in thought. Want to talk?”

Zoey rose slowly, weariness in every movement. “I’m all talked out, Mom.”

“Are you sure? You look mighty lost.”

“Oh, is it that obvious?”

“Yes, hon.” Emma brushed Zoey’s hair behind her ear. “Remember, I’m the one who you came to after Dane died—I mean, disappeared. Boy, this is hard. I’ve thought of him as being dead for so long. If I’m having a hard time, I know you are. What can I do to help?”

Tears misted Zoey’s eyes. “You’re doing it right now.” She went into her mother’s embrace, glad she’d come home when her life had been falling apart. Family and God were what was important. With them as her support she would be there for her children when they needed her.

“I tried to say good-night to Blake, but he was already asleep. That’s the first time he’s gone to bed before Mandy that I can remember. What happened in the den? Did he talk to Dane?”

Zoey pulled back, one tear rolling down her cheek, then another. “No. He was so upset that Dane was here that he wouldn’t talk to his father. What should I do?”

“Pray. Have faith that God will help you through this. He was there for you in the past. He is here for you now, and He will be there for you in the future.”

Zoey swiped her hand across her cheeks. “I’m happy that Dane is alive, Mom, but my world is suddenly no longer the safe haven I’ve worked so hard to make it. Everything’s changed tonight.”

Emma gripped Zoey’s hands. “No, it hasn’t. Your faith is the same. Your love for your children and family is the same. Keep that in mind.” She scanned the mess in the dining room. “Now, let me give you a hand cleaning this up.”

“No, you’ve done enough. I won’t be able to sleep for a while. You go home and get some rest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“You always did like to be alone to wrestle with your problems. That hasn’t changed, I see.” Her mother squeezed Zoey’s hands before releasing them and making her way toward the front door. “I expect to hear from you before the sun sets tomorrow.”

“I’m surprised you don’t want me to call you before the sun rises.”

“Hon, for once I think I’ll be sleeping late. Good night.”

The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house. Zoey stared at it for a moment, feeling all her uncertainty crashing down on her. Dane was finally home and a few feet away in the same house. Her children were upstairs, safe. All should be well with the world, and yet she felt the fabric of her life unraveling.

She headed up the stairs, needing to check on her children before cleaning up. She stood at Mandy’s door and listened to Dane read to her. Her daughter was curled up next to him, her eyes drooping closed. Next, Zoey went to Tara’s room and kissed her sleeping toddler’s forehead. Then she opened Blake’s door and peeked into his room. The light from the hallway shone across his bed. Her son lay buried under mounds of blankets as though he were trying to shut the world out. In that moment she had the same urge.

She walked to her bedroom and retrieved her Bible by her bed. Sitting in a chair by the window, she opened the book and sought comfort in its pages.

Dear Heavenly Father, I don’t know if I can do what I need to do. Help me to make this marriage work, to find the strength to make us a whole family again. I am lost and afraid of what the future holds. Please show me the way.



The dank darkness surrounded him as though he were wearing a straightjacket. The pain gnawed at his insides, consuming his whole body. The heat pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe. Tight. Suffocating— He reached out. Fire licked at his fingers, searing his flesh.

With a gasp Dane opened his eyes and found a gray-and-black cat balanced on his chest, two blue eyes staring at him. A cat? Where was he? Confusion clouded his mind, the fragments of his reoccurring nightmare lingering in his thoughts.

The animal lifted his paw and batted at Dane’s face. He scrambled to sit up.

“What in the world—”

“That’s Pepper, our cat.”

Dane snapped his head around to find Mandy sitting by the couch staring at him. He was in Sweetwater, Kentucky. Zoey’s house. I’m okay. He shoved the nightmare to the back recesses of his mind.

“He’s my pet. Blake doesn’t like him.”

“He doesn’t?”

“He wanted a dog, but I found Pepper, cryin’ outside in the front yard. He was wet and hungry. No one claimed him so we kept him.” Mandy perched on the side of the bed and bounced a few times. “Do ya want to play a game?”

Pepper rubbed his body against Dane’s chest, then nudged his hand. “How about after breakfast?” Dane glanced at his watch and saw that it was early. “Is anyone else up?”

“Oh, yes. Mommy’s takin’ a bath. She likes to do that sometimes instead of a shower. She’s been in the bathroom a loo-oong time.”

Dane decided if he ever wanted to know what was going on in the family all he had to do was ask Mandy. “Let me get dressed and see if I can get some coffee started. Maybe you can help me.”

“Sure.” She jumped to her feet and scooped Pepper up into her arms. “I’ll be in the kitchen. I don’t know if we have any coffee. Mommy doesn’t drink it.”

“She still drinks tea?”

“Yep.” Mandy said, walking slowly from the den.

That was one of the many differences Zoey and he’d had. One of the first things he’d requested when he’d returned to civilization was a large mug of brewed coffee. Before the plane crash, he’d drunk at least five cups a day. After the crash, he hadn’t been able to remember what he liked for a long time. Even if he had, coffee hadn’t been on the menu in the Indian village where he’d stayed.

Dane used the bathroom off the den, quickly shaving and showering. When he entered the kitchen, he found Zoey putting a kettle of water on the stove. Mandy sat at the table, eating a bowl of cereal with bananas. When she saw him, she beamed at him, revealing her missing front tooth.

“We have to put Pepper out in the backyard when we eat. He likes to get up on the table and stick his nose into my food. No matter how many times we put him on the floor, he gets back up. Mommy finally gave up tryin’ to teach him not to get up on the table.”

Zoey turned from the stove, a flushed cast to her cheeks. Her long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail while her brown eyes stared at him with a wariness that he’d seen a lot in the last months before his disappearance.

“I have some instant coffee somewhere in here.” She opened several cabinet doors and found the jar.

He winced.

“Instant is all I can offer you.”

“Maybe I can go to the Quick Mart on the corner and get some real coffee.”

“Sorry. I don’t have a coffeepot anymore.”

“What happened to it?”

“I gave it away after—” A frown flitted across her features.

“Never mind. Instant will be fine.”

“I’ll get a pot today at the super center.”

“That’s okay. I can take care of it. I don’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense. You’re our guest—” She swallowed her next words. “I mean—”

Dane held up his hand. “I understand, Zoey. Really. This isn’t a normal situation. I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m going to the store anyway.” She snatched up the kettle as it began to whistle and poured hot water into two mugs.

Her hand shook. They sounded like polite strangers instead of husband and wife, she thought, and stirred the coffee granules into his mug, then gave it to him.

“I’ll go with you to the store. There are some things I want to pick up.” Dane took a sip of his coffee and kept his expression neutral.

Zoey dunked her tea bag into her hot water, then spooned in some honey. “We’ll go after breakfast.”

“Mommy, Daddy was gonna play a game with me.”

“He can later. Blake has a soccer game this morning and I want to get the shopping done before the game.”

Mandy drew her brows together and formed a pout. “We always have to go to his games. Can I stay at Nana’s with Tara?”

“I guess so if it’s okay with her,” Zoey said, bringing her mug to the table and placing it on the mat across from Dane’s.

“Call her. Call her!”

“Not until you’ve cleaned your room and made your bed, young lady.”

Mandy hurriedly finished her cereal in two bites and raced from the room before Zoey could say anything.

Dane chuckled. “I didn’t know it was possible to eat so fast.”

“Mandy does everything on fast mode. She’ll be back down here in a few minutes, declaring her room is clean. Of course, when I go up to inspect it, most of the items on the floor will be shoved under her bed. She’ll moan and groan, but finally pull them all out and put them where they belong.”

“If she knows you’re gonna check, why doesn’t she put them away the first time?”

Zoey shrugged. “I think she’s an eternal optimist. She’s just sure one day I won’t check.”

“She sounds like she’s gotten more than her looks from you.”

“I’ve tempered my optimism with realism. When life slaps you in the face, it’s hard not to.” Zoey sipped at her tea, glad to have something to do with her hands. “Would you like some cereal? I know you like a big breakfast, but the only morning I have time to fix one is Sunday before we go to church.”

“I’m not used to having a big breakfast anymore. Where’s the cereal?”

“You mean cereals.” She pointed to the cabinet next to the refrigerator. “When you have three hungry children, we go through several boxes in a week. I do have some that aren’t laced with tons of sugar.”

“Actually sugar sounds good. I’ve missed it.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Dane prepared his bowl of cereal topped with a banana. Zoey wanted to ask him about his years in the jungle, about his lost memory, but after the night before, she knew he wouldn’t say anything to her until he was ready, if ever. She didn’t want him to reject confiding in her a second time. Her battered emotions could only take so much.

Dane settled again in the chair across from her and dug into his cereal. When he was halfway finished, he looked up and speared her with his intense gaze. “Where’s Blake? I’d hoped to see him this morning.”

Zoey glanced at the clock over the desk. “He should have been down by now. I’d better go see what’s keeping him. He’s supposed to go over to Nate’s this morning before the game. I need to check on Tara, too. She should be up. I usually hear her by now.”

Zoey hurried up the stairs, stopping by Mandy’s room to see how she was progressing with her cleanup. With a quick look under her daughter’s bed, then the closet, Zoey shook her head and said, “You’re gonna have to try harder if you want to go to Nana’s this morning.” There was a part of her that hoped Mandy didn’t accomplish her task, the part that didn’t want to be alone with Dane, the part that was confused and not sure what to do.

“Oh, Mommy. Everything’s off the floor.”

“Yeah, and this time stuffed in your closet.”

“But it’s not under the bed.”

Zoey put her hands on her hips and fixed a stern expression on her face. “Young lady, you know what a clean room is supposed to be like.”

Next Zoey went to Blake’s room and knocked on the closed door. When she didn’t hear anything, she knocked again, louder. Suddenly the door swung open. He was still dressed in his pajamas with his hair sticking up at odd angles as though he had just rolled out of bed. He knuckled sleep from his eyes.

“You need to hurry and come down to breakfast before you go to Nate’s.”

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping away from hers.

“You need to eat something. You’ve got a soccer game later this morning.”

“I’ll get dressed and walk over to Nate’s. It’s only five blocks.”

“You can’t avoid your dad, Blake.”

He scowled. “Yes, I can.”

Her son started to close his door, but Zoey stuck her foot in the doorway to stop him. “Your father is here to stay.”

“How do you know?”

His question caught her off guard. She didn’t know for sure. Dane’s job with the DEA had always been so important to him, to the point that she’d felt her and their family had often come in second. He’d told her the evening before he didn’t have plans yet, but if past patterns were any indication, Dane would be gone on some DEA assignment as soon as he felt he had recovered, and Blake needed a full-time father, especially right now. “I want you downstairs for breakfast in ten minutes.”

She didn’t wait for her son to protest her command. She hurried to Tara’s room and found her youngest playing in her crib as though she had been patiently waiting for someone to come get her. It wouldn’t be long before she needed to put the crib away and get a big girl bed for Tara. Her youngest was growing up too fast.

“Sweet pea, time to get up.”

With a big smile, Tara stood in the crib and lifted her arms for Zoey to take. “Mama, up now.”

After quickly changing Tara’s diaper and dressing her, Zoey carried her downstairs, noticing her son’s bedroom door was still closed. Blake was a good kid. He’d do what he needed to do.

As she entered the room, Dane placed his bowl in the dishwasher, then poured himself another cup of coffee. She drew in a deep breath at the sight of him in her kitchen. She’d never thought she would see that again. Then she remembered Blake’s question about Dane staying and needed a more definite answer than the one Dane had given her the night before.

“What are your plans, Dane?” Zoey put Tara into her high chair, then tied a bib around her neck. She gave her daughter some apple juice to drink in a sippy cup.

He glanced up, his eyebrows rising. “To go with you to the store.”

“No, I mean for your future.” She heard the exasperation in her voice and didn’t care. She was frustrated, confused and afraid for her children, for herself.

A shadow dimmed his eyes before he veiled his expression and focused his attention on his mug of coffee. “I told you last night, I haven’t made any plans yet. That hasn’t changed in the past ten hours. I just got back to the States not long ago.”

“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.

“He’s good,” Dane said, beaming at Zoey.

“He loves to play ever since he moved here. You should have seen him that first year. He—” The look of pain that flashed across Dane’s face halted her words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m the one who is sorry. I want you to feel free to talk about what our children have done in the past. How else will I get to know them now if you don’t?” He moved in close and continued in a low voice, “The same goes for you and what you’ve been doing. It was nice listening to what Jesse had to say. It makes me realize you and I need to spend some time alone talking about what you’ve done the past few years.”

What I’ve been doing, but not you? His presence overpowered her, her senses inundated with his nearness. Zoey wanted to back away from Dane, but she didn’t. She didn’t want the townspeople to hear any of their conversation. “Will you share your life for the past few years, too?”

A shadow furrowed his brow. “There’s really nothing to share. I survived the crash and finally remembered who I was. I lived with good people who took me in. I learned to live in an environment very different from here without any trappings of civilization.”

She touched his arm, vaguely aware that people were staring at them, that the soccer game had continued. She didn’t care. “Sharing that is a beginning.” She sat, and Dane sat next to her on the bench. “I think your idea about talking is a good one. I’ll see if Mom can watch the children tonight. We can go out to dinner.”

“A date?”

“Yes. We may be married, but there’s so much we don’t know about each other.”

“Zoey, don’t expect me—”

She took his hand, stopping his words. “We have to start somewhere. For the children’s sake.”

“How about our own?”

His question, unanswered, hung in the air between them. Zoey wanted to hope one day they could capture the emotions they’d had when they’d first married before real life had intruded, before his work had taken him away from her and thrown up a wall between them that she couldn’t seem to scale, even now. But she was a realist now, and she didn’t know if that was possible.



Mandy clapped. “I won! I won!”

Dane began to put the pieces of the board game back in the box. “Did anyone ever tell you how lucky you are, young lady?”

“Yes, Mommy all the time.” Mandy helped to clean up the mess. “Ya look nice.”

He ran his finger under his collar. “You think so? I haven’t worn a suit and tie in a long time.”

“Is this what ya bought today at the store, Daddy?”

Every time his daughter called him “daddy” his heart swelled. How could he have forgotten her—forgotten Zoey and Blake? Oh, he knew all the medical reasons for amnesia, but in his heart he should have known. Guilt gnawed at his insides for the lost years.

He cleared his throat before replying, “I figured I’d better get some clothes that fit me.”

“I want to go out with ya and Mommy to eat.” Mandy came to sit next to him on the couch. “I have a pretty new dress that Nana bought me. I can wear it.”

His first impulse was to tell her yes. She would be a good buffer between him and Zoey. But he’d never been a coward before, and he wasn’t going to start now. He placed his arm around Mandy’s shoulder and pulled her against him. “You can another time. Your mother and I need to talk.”

“That’s okay. Ya can talk. I won’t mind.”

“Sometimes grown-ups need time alone. Just like you and I need special time alone.”

Mandy pouted. “Okay. This time. And I’ll give ya a chance to beat me tomorrow.”

“That’s a date. Just you and me.”

He hugged her, relishing the feel of his daughter in his arms. He’d missed so much with her. Regret mixed with anger, always beneath the surface, surged in him, threatening his composure. Clenching his hands, he closed his eyes and forced those emotions to the dark recesses of his mind before they overwhelmed him. He’d survived the plane crash when no one else had. He’d finally made it back to his family. He was remembering new things every day. He would get his life back. He had to!

When the doorbell rang, he used that as an excuse to leave Mandy. In the hallway, he took several deep breaths to fortify himself. A feeling of helplessness, one he’d dealt with many times in the rain forest, nibbled at his mind. He pushed that away, too. He would never feel helpless again. He would control his own life from now on. He knew who he was and that was half the battle. The rest would fall into place now that he was home again.

Composed, Dane opened the door to allow Emma into the house. “Thanks for helping out on such short notice.”

“My pleasure. Anything for Zoey and you.” She placed her purse on the table in the foyer. “Where are the children?”

“Blake’s in his room, has been since he came home from the game. Tara’s with Zoey. And Mandy just beat me at a board game. She’s quite a competitor.”

“Even though she looks like Zoey, there’s a lot of you in her.”

Dane smiled.

Emma glanced up the stairs. “After you and Zoey leave, I’ll go up and talk with Blake.”

“Good luck. Zoey tried to and he didn’t say two words.”

“Where’s Zoey?”

“Still getting dressed, I think.”

At that moment Dane saw Zoey at the top of the stairs, her gaze fixed on him. He sucked in a deep breath and held it while she walked down the steps, carrying their youngest child. His wife looked gorgeous in a simple black dress with a lace shawl draped over her. Her outfit fell to her knees and accentuated her long legs clad in black hose. Her shoulder-length blond hair was swept back from her face, emphasizing her big, brown eyes. Around her neck she wore a white gold chain with a single black pearl that he’d given her on their first anniversary. The memory pierced through his heart with all the time he’d missed with his family—with Zoey.

Had he conveniently forgotten his other life while in the jungle because of the problems he and Zoey had been having in their marriage? That question knocked the breath from him, leaving him with new doubts. In that moment he didn’t know if he could give Zoey what she needed…and deserved.




Chapter Four


After the waiter cleared away their dinner plates, Zoey relaxed back in her chair and scanned the restaurant, trying to come up with something to say other than pleasantries that had nothing to do with what was wrong between her and Dane. She noticed several other diners glancing their way and shifted in her seat. Obviously the word that her husband had returned from the dead had swept through Sweetwater like a brush fire in an arid climate, as she’d known it would. Not much happened in the town and this was definitely news to her friends and neighbors. She didn’t want to be the center of gossip and knew by the tense set to Dane’s posture he hated every minute of it.





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