Heart of Clay

  Clay had never felt such intense pain.

  His entire body hurt. Sinking into the dark swells of oblivion seemed so much easier than trying to fight his way to awareness.

  As he floated in a state somewhere in between awake and asleep, he felt a breath near his ear and heard Callan’s voice. She whispered to him to fight and begged him not to leave.

  “I love you, Clay,” he heard her say. “Come back to me.”

  Come back to me, come back to me. The words rang in his ears as he sank into the far off place where the pain wasn’t so overwhelming.

  He drifted in the void where he couldn’t feel anything, where time didn’t seem to matter. Occasionally, he heard voices, felt a touch.

  Sometimes he dreamed.

  He dreamed of Callan and their life together. Like a movie playing in slow motion, he could picture all their past moments.

  Oddly, he dreamed he could smell her scent. It filled him with a sense of pleasure and familiarity, like nothing he could remember.

  He dreamed of how she looked the day she’d surprised him with her makeover, of the raw, hungry passion they’d shared that night. They’d had so many fun times since then, so many moments he’d looked at her and had his breath stolen away.

  Falling in love with her again had been such a precious, unexpected gift. One he’d cherished.

  Clay pictured his parents, remembered good times spent out at the ranch. He thought of Jake and his other students and the joy teaching brought him. Clay also thought of Audrey and Emma, how much he enjoyed playing with the two little girls.

  A picture of cattle stampeding and one crazed cow heading toward him would make him flinch and then the dream would stop. When his thoughts took him too close to the surface of waking up, the pain became intense, so Clay let his mind wander back to the peaceful place where the pain didn’t interrupt his dreams.