An Unexpected Affair by Lorelei Moone

Author:Lorelei Moone [Moone, Lorelei]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Clarice had the strangest dream.

After crashing her car into the tree - or having the tree crash into her, she wasn't certain how it had happened exactly, she'd been trapped in a world of white noise. She couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't even feel her body.

Somehow, she had made it out of the wreck and back to the cottage, though. She had been aware of her movements, somewhat, as well as the noises around her, but she hadn't been able to see much of what had occurred. The one thing that stood out to her was Derek's voice. He'd asked if she was okay, and if she was in pain. He'd hoped out loud that she hadn't been badly hurt.

Clarice had wanted to tell him that it was fine, that he didn't need to worry himself, but couldn't open her mouth to form the words. She had caught a glimpse of his face looking down at her, before the overwhelming urge to sleep on had dragged her back into the white. Or perhaps all that had also been part of her dream, and it wasn't Derek who had rescued her.

Somewhere between the car wreck and the farmhouse, she was certain that there had been another presence as well.

She had crashed near the spot where she'd first seen that shadow in the woods and was now certain it had been the bear. Throughout her mysterious rescue, the bear had been watching all along, she could feel his eyes on her. At one point, when her eyes refused to open, she thought she could even feel fur, brushing against her cheek.

The strange thing was, even though she knew the bear was there, close to her, she didn't feel like she was in danger at all. She felt completely safe, cared for even.

The feeling still lingered when she finally did open her eyes.

While she was in the white world, time seemed to hold no importance. Upon waking, and struggling with her vision as her eyes adjusted to the light in the strange room she found herself in, Clarice had no way of figuring out how long she'd been unconscious.

There was a flicker of a candle on the heavy wooden dresser in the corner. She tried to lift her head to get a better view of the rest of the room, but a thumping headache prevented her from moving too much. The bed was comfortable and smelled of clean cotton.

Clarice reached upwards, carefully exploring the painful welt on her forehead with her fingertips, before letting her arm drop beside her body, back onto the soft, bouncy mattress. After staring at the black wooden beams holding up the ceiling for a moment, she turned onto her side.

She was definitely sore, and not just on her head, though there didn't seem to be anything else wrong with her that she could tell. The dresser, the huge wardrobe and the equally solid looking door looked very similar to the furniture and decor of Moss Cottage. But this wasn't her bedroom.

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