A Texan's Promise by Shelley Gray

Author:Shelley Gray [Shelley Gray]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Abingdon Press
Published: 2011-07-24T14:00:00+00:00

To his surprise, Corrine was standing outside his bedroom door when he came upstairs an hour later, her hand hovering over the knob. "Oh, Clay, thank the good Lord you're here."

Panic rose in his chest as he strode forward. "What's wrong?"

"It's Vanessa. She's having a night terror, Clayton. For the last few minutes she's been crying something awful, thrashing, too, by the sounds of things. I was going to go get you, but was afraid to leave her . . . and I was going to go in, but was afraid that might just make things worse."

Vanessa's cry pierced the air again.

"Go on back to bed. I'll take care of her," Clayton murmured as he slipped into his room.

Across the way, atop a pile of down comforters, Vanessa was crying. Her hands were clenched in fists, gripping an unseen enemy. Pale ankles and calves peeked out under her wrinkled nightgown. A moan escaped her, high-pitched and frightened.

As her head moved side to side, Clayton sat next to her."Sweetheart? Vanessa, honey, hush now," he whispered, yanking off each boot and letting them fall to the floor. "Van?" he whispered, reaching for her shoulders.

His touch spurred her on. With a cry, she swatted at him like a woman fighting for her life. Clayton stayed still, trying his best to curve his arms around her. "Vanessa, darling, shh.Shh, now. It's all right."

When she quieted for a time, Clayton pulled off his sweatstained chambray. Though he had a feeling his white undershirt didn't smell much better, at least the dust and dirt from riding Lee wouldn't soil her skin. Then he gathered her in his arms and slowly rubbed her back. The raised scar tissue felt almost familiar by now. "Van? Vanessa?"

She opened her eyes, screamed, and cowered again.

This was worse than usual.

Something terrible was locked in her mind. Something she'd obviously done her best to push aside. He'd done much of the same thing with memories from the war.

Feeling helpless. Scared, he did the only thing he knew that could help.

He prayed. "Lord, please help," he whispered. "Please be with us. Please help her." Silently he added his own selfish appeal. Please help me help her.

As she cried out again, he rubbed his wife's back as gently as possible. "Vanessa, honey. Wake up."

Her only reply was a torrent of tears.

He felt his eyes tearing up, too. "Sweetheart, you're all right," he coaxed. "You're okay."

Slowly her eyes opened. He smiled encouragingly. "Vanessa, honey? Wake up now. You with me? No one's going to hurt you. I'm here. I'm here, honey."

She blinked twice before speaking, her voice groggy with wonder. "Clay."

"I'm here."

Tremors coursed through her, so he shifted, pulling her onto his lap. "I'm here," he repeated, almost as much for his sake as for her own.

To his relief, she laid her head on his chest and sighed. "I had another dream. A bad one."

"I know."

After another minute, she leaned a little bit away and caught his gaze. "It felt so real."

"It was just a dream.

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