Borrowed Dreams (Debbie Macomber Classics)

  Carly’s fingers tightened around her pencil. “Have you looked over Primetime Gold’s claim for the last shipment? Apparently, the dredging parts were damaged.”

  If George made one more comment on the way Brand was looking at her, Carly was sure the pencil would snap. Brand came into the office daily when he knew she’d be there. Often he poured himself coffee, looking for an excuse to linger and talk to her. He wasn’t exactly subtle with what he had to say.

  “Three more days” had been his comment this morning. He didn’t need to elaborate. Shawn and Sara would be arriving on Thursday.

  “I need longer than that,” Carly had pleaded for the hundredth time. “I’m not ready for them. I want to be sure.”

  The pain in Brand’s eyes mirrored her own. “Will you ever know? That’s the question. Carly, how can you turn away from us when we love and need you?”

  “I can’t rush what I feel,” she murmured miserably.

  “If you’re waiting for me to give up Shawn and Sara, set your mind straight right now. I won’t.”

  “Oh, Brand,” Carly cried softly, then lowered her head so that her chin was tucked against her shoulder. “I would never ask that of you.”

  “Then just what do you want? Three days, Carly,” he repeated with grim impatience. “They’re arriving in three days, and they expect a home and a mother.”

  “I won’t be there. I can’t,” she cried on a soft sob.

  The pain etched in Brand’s eyes as he left the office haunted Carly for the remainder of the day.

  George had already left for the afternoon when Brand checked in after a short flight. He filled out the information sheet and attached it to the clipboard for George’s signature.

  Although Carly attempted to ignore the suppressed anger in his movements, it was impossible. Silently, her eyes appealed to him. His gaze met hers boldly, and darkened.

  “If you’re through, I’d like to close up,” she said, struggling to control the breathless quality in her voice. The office keys were clenched tightly in her hand. She’d seen that look on Brand’s face before. Frustration hardened his eyes to a brilliant shade of brown, wary anger that all but flashed at her.

  “Why should your likes concern me? Obviously my needs don’t trouble you,” he taunted softly. “Carly, I’m tired of playing the waiting game. I want a wife.” With every word, he advanced toward her. An unfamiliar harshness stole into his features as he reached for her.

  His mouth sought hers.

  Carly tried to resist him, but she was weak and panting with need when he began kissing her. At first he was gentle, his mouth caressing and teasing hers until she responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and arching against him so that her body was intimately thrust against his.

  “I should make love to you here and now,” he whispered.

  “Brand, no … not here,” she pleaded. Still he kissed her again and again until she cried out, certain she heard someone approach. Whoever it was went into the hangar and thankfully not the office.

  Brand must have heard the noise, too, because he broke away. Stepping back, he looked at her with wide, shock-filled eyes, as if he’d just woken from a trance and hadn’t known what he’d been doing.

  He released her.

  If Carly was pale, Brand was more so. He looked for a moment as if he was going to be ill. He hesitated only long enough to jam his shirttails inside his pants. Without giving her another look, he turned toward the door.

  “There was no excuse for that,” he said, looking away from her. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Brand …”

  Halfway out the door, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder, but he made no attempt to come to her. His eyes met hers in quiet challenge. There were so many things she wanted to say, but no thought seemed clear in her mind.

  “I … I understand,” she murmured.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On Tuesday afternoon, another long letter from Jutta Hoverson was waiting for Carly. She held off opening the envelope until she had a cup of coffee. Carrying the mug to the kitchen table, she sat down and propped her bare feet on the opposite chair.

  Of all the people in the world, Carly expected that Jutta would understand the hesitancy she felt toward Brand and the children. Diana, whom she loved and respected, hadn’t come close to comprehending the heart-wrenching decision Carly faced. More than once during Diana’s short visit, Carly felt that Diana had wanted to give her a hard shake. For once, Carly needed someone to identify with her needs, her insecurities. Jutta could do that.

  Slipping the letter from the long envelope, she read:

  Dear Carly,

  My friend. Your letter arrived today and I’ve read it many times. You speak of your love for this man you have married. But you say that you are no longer living with him. I don’t understand. In your last letter you wrote about his children and I sensed your discontent. You love, yet you fear. You battle against the things in life that are most natural. Reading your letter reminded me of the time when I was a young girl who dreamed of being a great runner. I worked very hard to accomplish this skill. My uncle coached me. And in his wisdom he explained that running demands complete coordination. He said that to be a good runner, I must let everything I’d learned, and everything I knew deep inside, come together and work for me. But I lost every race. Even when I knew I was the best, I couldn’t win. Again and again, he said to me that once I quit trying so hard to win, I would. Of course, I didn’t understand him at the time. I struggled, driving myself harder and harder. Then, one day at race time, my uncle threw up his hands at me. He said I would never win, and he walked away. And so I decided I wouldn’t even try. When the race began, I ran, but every step still felt heavy, every breath an effort. Then something happened that I don’t understand even now. Maybe because I wasn’t trying, because I no longer cared to win, everything my uncle had tried to explain came together. My feet no longer dragged and every step seemed to only skim the surface. I no longer ran. I flew. I made no effort. I felt no strain. My rhythm was perfect, and I experienced a pure exhilaration and a joy I have never known since. I won the race, and for the only time in my life, maybe, I made my family proud.

  My friend, in many ways we are alike.

  Carly reread the letter three times. The message should have been clear, but it wasn’t. Jutta had listened to the advice of an uncle and won a race. Carly couldn’t see how that could relate to Brand and the children. The letter was a riddle Jutta expected Carly to understand. But Carly had never done well with word puzzles.

  Not until Carly was in bed did she think again of Jutta’s strange letter. The picture her mind conjured was of a young, dark-haired girl struggling against high odds to excel. In some ways, Carly saw herself. With her personality quirks, her chances for happiness had to be slim. Her thoughts drifted to the first few days of lightheartedness after she and Brand were married. Content in their love, they had lived in euphoric harmony.

  Suddenly, Carly understood. Abruptly, she struggled to a sitting position and turned on the small lamp at the side of her bed. This kind of underlying accord was what Jutta had tried to explain in her letter. There was harmony in Jutta’s steps as she ran because she no longer struggled. When something is right, really right, there is no strain, no effort. The harmony of body and soul supersedes the complications of life. There were rhythms and patterns to every aspect of human existence, and all Carly had to do was accept their flow and move with the even swell of their tides. Problems erupted only when she struggled against this harmony. Once she reconciled herself to this flow, she could overcome the trap of always fearing borrowed dreams.

  Carly didn’t know how she could explain any of this to Brand, but she knew she had to try. The physical strain that had marked her face over the last weeks relaxed as she reached for her phone. He’d think she was crazy to be calling him this late at night, particularly when she didn’t know what she was going to say. Probably the best thing to do was blur
t out the fact that she loved him and that together they’d work out something. The love they shared was the harmony in her life because it was right. A lot of uncertainties remained; she hadn’t reconciled everything. But at least now she could see a light at the end of the tunnel.

  The phone rang ten times and Brand didn’t answer. Perplexed, Carly cut the call. A look at her wristwatch confirmed that it was after midnight. Brand worked hard, and he slept hard. It was possible he’d sleep through the interruption, but not likely.

  A quick mental review of the week’s flight schedule reminded her that Brand had been flying some Seattle personnel to one of the Aleutian Islands that day. The flight was as regular as clockwork. Brand had taken the same route a thousand times. He hadn’t checked in before she’d left work, she remembered. But then she’d left a little early. She really didn’t have anything to worry about. If something had gone awry with Brand’s flight, George would have contacted her.

  A long, body-stretching yawn convinced Carly to go back to bed. In the morning she’d make a point of seeking Brand out. Shawn and Sara were due to arrive the day after next, and she was hoping they could talk about that meeting.

  * * *

  Brand’s Chevy was parked by the warehouse when Carly arrived at work the following morning. A smile lit up her face at the reassuring sight. Everything was fine.

  “Where’s Brand?” she asked her boss, as she breezed in the door. “I’d like to talk to him before he takes off.”

  George looked up from the report he was scanning. “He hasn’t arrived yet.”

  Carly shook her head and gave George a bemused grin. Sometimes her boss could be the most forgetful person. “Of course he’s here. His car’s parked out back.”

  George glanced up and released an exaggerated sigh. “I tell you, he hasn’t come in this morning.” Glancing at the thick black watch on his wrist, George’s brows rose suspiciously. Brand wasn’t in the habit of arriving late.

  “What time did he check in last night?” Carly questioned.

  With deliberate care, George set the paper he was reading aside. “You tell me. I left early.”

  Carly discovered that her legs would no longer support her, and she sank into the swivel chair at her desk. “I thought he was checking in with you. I assumed …”

  “You mean Brand didn’t come back to the office yesterday?”

  Carly felt her heart sink so low it seemed to land at her ankles. “You mean …” She couldn’t voice the thought.

  “His car’s still here. He didn’t come back.” George finished for her. He stood and grabbed the clipboard that held the flight schedules down from the wall. “Don’t panic—everything’s going to be fine. There’s no cause for alarm.” The rising uneasiness in his own voice wasn’t reassuring. “I’ll contact the airport and confirm his flight plan.” George was out the door faster than she had seen him move in three months of working in Alaska.

  Numbly, Carly sat. She couldn’t have moved to save the world. Constant recriminations pounded at her from all sides until she wanted to bury her head in her hands. This was her fault. If Brand was hurt, no one would ever be able to convince her otherwise. Again and again George had told her that Brand was an excellent pilot. The best. Alaska Freight Forwarding was fortunate to have him on their team. Hiring Brand had been a coup for George.

  But even excellent pilots made mistakes. Anyone was more prone toward error when his mind was preoccupied—and heaven knew that Brand had lots on his mind. He was working hard, and if he was anything like Carly, he hadn’t been sleeping well. The combination of hard work and lack of sleep was enough to bring down the best pilots in the business.

  When George returned forty-five minutes later, Carly knew her face was waxen. Her eyes searched his eagerly for information.

  George cleared his throat, as if reluctant to speak. “There’ve been screwups everywhere, including the airport. They figure Brand has been missing close to fourteen hours.”

  “No … no.” Carly felt as if someone had physically slammed a fist into her stomach. She didn’t say anything. The thoughts that flittered through her mind made no sense. She recalled that she had to go pick up some dry cleaning on her way home from work. Then she remembered that Diana had expected something horrible to happen once she’d decided to marry Barney. Happiness wasn’t meant for people like her. Nor was it meant for someone like Carly.

  “Carly, are you okay?” George was giving her a funny look, and she wondered how long he’d been trying to gain her attention.

  “Search-and-rescue teams are in the air. They’ll find him.”

  Carly was confident they would, sooner or later. The question neither of them was voicing was in what condition Brand would be found: dead or alive.

  The entire day was like a nightmare. Only Carly discovered that, no matter what she did, she couldn’t wake up. The amount of manpower and man-hours that went into finding a missing or downed pilot was staggering. Reports were coming in to the office from the command center at Anchorage Airport continually. If that was encouraging, the news wasn’t. Brand hadn’t been sighted, and a thick fog was hampering the search.

  At ten that night, George put his hand over Carly’s. “You might as well try to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything.”

  Carly’s answer was an abrupt shake of her head. “No. I won’t leave. Not until I know.”

  George didn’t try to persuade her further. But she noticed that he didn’t leave. Both were determined to see this through, no matter what the outcome.

  At some point during the long night, Carly fell asleep. With her head leaning against the wall, she’d meant to rest her eyes for only a few minutes, but the next thing she knew, it was light outside and the sun was over the horizon. Immediately, she straightened and sought out George, who shook his head grimly.

  Two hours later, with her nerves stretched taut, Carly forced herself to eat something for the first time since breakfast the day before. She ran a comb through her dark hair and brushed her teeth.

  George was staring into the empty coffee cup he was holding when she approached him.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  He looked at her blankly. “Where are you going?”

  “To the main terminal. Shawn and Sara are arriving in a half hour. I don’t want them to know Brand’s missing. If you hear anything, I’ll be at the house.” She let out a tired breath. “I’ll phone as often as I can.”

  Squeezing her numb fingers, George offered Carly a smile and nodded.

  It didn’t seem possible that a day could be so full of sunshine and happiness—and that Carly’s whole world could be dark with an unimaginable gloom.

  As the Alaska Airlines flight with Shawn and Sara aboard touched down against the concrete runway, Carly felt an unreasonable surge of anger. Maybe Brand had planned this so she would be forced to deal with his children. If he’d wanted to find a way to punish her, he’d been highly successful.

  As the flight attendant ushered Shawn and Sara out from the jetway, Carly straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. Her composure was eggshell fragile. She hadn’t yet figured out what she was going to say to the children.

  “Mom.” A brilliant smile lit Sara’s sky-blue eyes. She broke free from the young attendant and hurried toward Carly.

  Scooting down, Carly was the wary recipient of a fierce hug from the little girl. Shawn was more restrained, but there was a happy light in his eyes she hadn’t noticed during her visit to Oregon.

  “Where’s Dad?” Shawn was the first to notice that his father was missing.

  Not quite meeting his inquisitive eyes, Carly managed a smile. “He told me to tell you how sorry he is that he couldn’t meet the two of you today. But he’s hoping you like the surprise he has waiting for you at the house.”

  “Can we go there now?” Sara asked. Her blond hair had been plaited into long pigtails that danced with the action of her head. The doll Car
ly had given her was clutched under her arm.

  “I’ll take you there now. Are you hungry?”

  Both children bobbed their heads enthusiastically. Rather than find something to cook, Carly located a McDonald’s. Shawn and Sara were delighted with the fact that their first meal in Alaska was to be a hamburger and milkshake.

  When they reached the house, Shawn helped Carly unload the suitcases from the back of the car. “Grandma sent you a long letter. She said it was instructions.”

  “Then I should read it right away.”

  “Don’t,” Shawn returned soberly. “You can, if you want,” he added, after a momentary lapse in conviction. “But you don’t have to do everything she says.”

  “At least not the nap part. Right?” She gave him a conspiratorial wink.

  “Right,” Shawn confirmed with a nod.

  “Mom, Mom.” Sara rushed from her bedroom. “I’ve got a loose tooth. Look.” She started pushing one of her front teeth back and forth. “Does the Tooth Fairy live in Alaska, too?”

  “You bet,” Carly answered, wiggling the tooth to satisfy Sara.

  While Shawn and Sara investigated their new swing set, Carly unpacked their clothes. A quickly placed call to George confirmed that there hadn’t been any word. A glance out of the window revealed that both Shawn and Sara had discovered neighborhood children their age.

  “This is Lisa.” Sara had brought her newfound friend into the house. “Can I show her my bedroom?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Sara looked surprised, as though she’d expected Carly to refuse. “We won’t make a mess.”

  “Good,” Carly said, with a short laugh. “I’d hate to think of you spending your first day in Alaska cleaning your room.”

  “Sara’s never messy,” Shawn said, with a soft snicker. “At least, that’s what Grandma says.”

  With a superior air, Sara led her friend down the hall to her bedroom. Lisa gave an appropriate sigh of appreciation at the beauty of the room, which immediately endeared her to Carly.