Page 44 of The Cowboy's Country Charm

“Sorry.” He was tired. So tired.

“Was it the same one?”

He sucked in air, trying to calm his beating heart. “Pretty much.” And he didn’t want to talk about it.

“That’s the third one you’ve had since we’ve been here. Maybe we shouldn’t have taken the primary bedroom. Maybe being in here is triggering these.”

The bed where he slept had nothing to do with the nightmares. “No. Bedroom isn’t a problem.”

“Do you know what set this off? Was it something Kristy did?”

“No.” Kristy had nothing to do with these. His mother should know that.

“What was it then?”

He sighed. She wasn’t going to let this go. He must have scared her. “Lexi and I went by the pond today.”

She patted his arm as if offering sympathy. “Why did you go there?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it, and Lexi wanted to get back because she was expecting Kristy, so she went the most direct route.” It shouldn’t still be such a problem, but it was.

“She should have realized.”

“Mom, it’s my issue. Eventually it will fade away.” He doubted it.

“It’s been twenty years. What makes you think time will take it away?”

“Eventually it will.” When he was dead. Because now the images were mixed with other situations he’d been in.

“Maybe you should see someone. Maybe we should have had you see someone when it happened. We just never thought…”

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m doing just fine. All the nightmares cost me is a little sleep. More when we have to discuss it like this.”

She patted his arm again. “Okay. If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll get back to bed.” She still sat on the side of the bed, not moving.

“I’m fine. Go get some sleep.”

This time she rose. “Will you be able to get back to sleep?”

Maybe. Maybe not. “I can sleep anytime, anywhere. It’s over. Sorry I disturbed you.”

She bent and kissed his forehead, like she had done so many times in his life. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He waited until he saw the door close in the deep gray light of night. Then he turned over. No more sleep tonight. Just memories.

***

“As I live and breathe, Sylvia Ford, it’s you. Welcome, welcome.” Rusty’s mom stood with her back holding open the screen door as she waved Sylvia and Rusty into the house. The scent of baked apples and cinnamon permeated the kitchen. Rusty spied the source on the counter… a pie covered with a checkered napkin, apparently fresh out of the oven.

The two women hugged, stood back, and took in each other.

“Sit, sit.” His mom motioned to the large kitchen table. “Coffee’s on and will be ready in just a minute.” She placed the open laptop, which had been sitting on the table near the head chair, on the counter and closed the lid.

Kristy’s mother slid onto one of the chairs, Rusty sat across from her, and his mom sat at the head, where his dad usually sat.

“How long has it been?” His mother’s gaze was focused on Sylvia, as if afraid if she looked away, Sylvia would disappear.

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