Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel) (7 page)

“And if I don’t want to see you again?”

Tristan pointed to the sky. “That’s not my choice, and not yours.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m on your side.”

Doug’s e-mail yesterday with Sunday night’s agenda had hinted that an increased attack from the enemy was coming. Maybe Reece’s mentor was right: Brandon had Tristan the stalker, Marcus was seeing visions that seemed to be more than visions, and Reece was struggling with the loss of his eyes.

Dana flashed into his mind but that didn’t mean the Spirit was giving Brandon a specific warning about her. She filled his thoughts unbidden on a daily basis. An hourly basis. And he didn’t want her to leave his brain but he should. She’d made that abundantly clear after the fourth time he’d asked her to have coffee—just the two of them—and she’d made him promise to stop asking. There was no hope for them. Why couldn’t he get that through his head?

Regardless, whatever kind of assault was coming against Reece, Marcus, and him would include her as well.

NINE

T
HE SAIL SNAPPED INTO PLACE
S
ATURDAY AFTERNOON
as the wind took hold and the boat surged forward, the San Juan Islands in the foreground, sun drenching the scene enough that Dana and Perry both wore sunglasses.

They sailed for a time in silence, the briny smell of the sea and the slap of the water against the hull of Perry’s boat enough to fill Dana’s mind and imagination. She’d been working too many hours at the radio station, battling to keep her job, battling the pressures of sales goals that never grew easier to meet. And anytime she wasn’t there she spent working on the classes she taught at Well Spring to the ever-growing number of trainees. She needed this break.

When she and Perry had gotten together at the end of summer last year to talk things out it had been healing, better than expected, and their getting together every three or four weeks had been unexpected as well. He hadn’t pushed her to go deeper during the past eight months, which of course made her go deeper with him at times than she’d intended. She liked him. Enough for a serious relationship? No. She didn’t think about a future together. Today and maybe tomorrow was plenty.

They anchored off Friday Harbor and Perry motioned toward the front of the boat. “If you want to get comfortable up there, I’ll go down here”—he pointed below deck—“and bring up some food and some adult refreshments.”

Dana eased toward the bow as the wind whipped through her light brown hair and lifted it off her shoulders. She knew what she wanted. But what did Perry want? Did he think they were dating again? He hadn’t tried to kiss her which was a bit shocking and a relief. She didn’t want to be forced onto the path a kiss would certainly lead them down.

Stop it.
Hadn’t she just told herself to think about today only? She was having another relaxing afternoon with a friend. Nothing more. What was wrong with that? Even if she and Perry grew back into something more, what fault could that contain?

She reached the bow and stretched out, one leg over the other, leaned back on her elbows, and watched the green waves and the seagulls cantering on the wind, the sun lighting up their wings like snow. If heaven was better than this, she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it.

Perry emerged from below a few minutes later with a plate of strawberries surrounding a small glass bowl of melted chocolate and a bottle of champagne, his dark curly hair begging for a trim. “Voilà!” He grinned and climbed out to the bow to join her. “This should keep us occupied for a few minutes at least.”

As she stared at him and the strawberries and champagne, Dana didn’t know whether to laugh or grab a life jacket and jump overboard. Strawberries and champagne? It was all too clichéd and over the top for just friends. Did she want more? Yes. No. The fickle nature of the undecided human heart, like a garden of flitting butterflies that can’t decide where to touch down.

“You’re not getting all romantic on me, are you?”

Perry reared back his head. “I’m shocked you would think that.”

She laughed. “What am I doing here with you?”

“Soaking in the sun, the wind, the waves . . . soaking in each other. Same thing we’ve been doing for the past ten months.”

“Nine months.”

“Nine and a half.”

“Fine.” She took a sip of the champagne. “Soaking in the first three on your list can work, but the last one isn’t on the menu. Sorry.”

Perry grew silent and took off his sunglasses.

“What?”

“Can you take off your sunglasses?”

She did.

“I want to soak in each other.”

“Don’t go there, Per—”

“Don’t blame it on me. You’ve changed. You’re more open—way more open about what’s going on inside you. You’ve cut up the sixty-foot pole that kept people away. There’s a . . . peace around you that was never there before. It’s like you flipped a switch. It’s hard not to think of the future.”

“Try harder and don’t think about it. It’s been nice the way it is. Let’s keep it that way.” She grabbed a strawberry and tossed it overboard.

“Hey!”

“It’s symbolic of what I’m going to do if we don’t take our relationship one day at a time.”

Perry scratched his cheek and fiddled with the sunglasses he held. “I suppose if you jumped in, I could rescue you from drowning.”

“Stop it.”

They said nothing for five minutes or so, taking the time to dip the strawberries in the chocolate and savor their taste. When Perry spoke he thankfully changed the subject.

“Tell me more about this group of yours. The one you went to Colorado with and seem to meet with on a regular basis. Do they know we’re seeing each other?”

So much for changing the subject. Dana sat up and dipped another strawberry in the chocolate. “We’re not seeing each other.”

“We’re not?” Perry frowned.

“Do you want to hear about the Warriors Riding?”

He nodded.

“You haven’t shown much interest all this time, and now you want to know about them?”

“I figure the question is long overdue.”

“We’re doing amazing things together. Things I never would have believed. My eyes have opened to the spiritual realm in ways I never even imagined could be true.”

“This I need to hear about.”

How much should she tell him? Probably more than a little, but much less than all. She didn’t want to overload him, but without some concrete examples of what the Spirit had done her statements would be vague platitudes. So she told him about how God had spoken new names to each of them, talked about deep intercessory prayer and how each of their little band had been healed of some of their deepest wounds. But she didn’t go so far as to tell him they’d sent their spirits inside each other’s souls.

She told him about teleporting their bodies to various places around the country by the power of God’s Spirit. About their experience fighting the vine that tried to burrow its way into Brandon’s chest at his concert, and how they’d been running frequent four-day training sessions at Well Spring in Colorado for hundreds of those who wanted to go deeper into the things of the Spirit.

When she finished she took a long sip of her champagne and gazed at Perry. “Do you think I’m nuts?”

“Wow.” Perry blinked and rapidly shook his head. “No, I don’t think you’re nuts, but wow. I’ll have to take a little time to get my head around this.”

“You think we’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little.” Perry dipped a strawberry in the chocolate and bit off half of it and looked in her eyes. “One more question.”

“Sure.”

“You said one of the four of you is named Brandon Scott.”

She nodded.

“But this isn’t your ex-fiancé, Brandon Scott, is it? The names are just a coincidence, right?”

Dana shook her head and put her sunglasses back on.

“Are you kidding? You spent four days in Colorado with him?
And now you do training with him? And get together as a group on a frequent basis?”

She nodded again.

“Wow.” Perry popped his strawberry into his mouth and took a long time to chew and swallow. “Isn’t it kind of weird being around him?”

“It was at first.” She folded her arms. “It still is a tiny bit, but not much. We worked it out.”

“Worked it out? Really? How do you work out something like that?”

The memory of Brandon being in her soul and the war that they waged flooded her mind. The closeness she’d experienced. The fractions of seconds where it felt like it did when they were engaged. “It’s part of the healing Jesus did. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“You’re okay being around him a lot?”

“It’s okay. It’s even good.” She hesitated. It was good at times. But then there were those moments when she didn’t know what to feel. When she wished for . . . no. She wouldn’t entertain insane thoughts about Brandon. “Most of the time it’s good.”

Perry folded his arms and stepped back. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“They’re gone.” She turned and focused on a seagull flying low over the water to her right.

“You’re sure?”

A tinge of warmth spread across her face and she hoped Perry couldn’t see her blush. “Why is that so important?”

“Because if we’re . . .” Perry took a sip of his champagne.

“If we’re what? We’re friends, right? Taking it one day at a time? I thought we just had this conversation.”

Perry squinted out over the sound toward Lopez Island. “True. My apologies. Your feelings or lack thereof toward Brandon should be none of my business. For now.” He glanced at her, then back to the island. “But if certain scenarios play out, it might become my business.”

Once again her emotions whipped back and forth like a loose sail in a prevailing wind. She should feel good about Perry’s thinly veiled insinuations about their future. For the first time in . . . forever, she didn’t want a guy in her life. More important, she didn’t
need
a guy in her life. Which made her want to have someone in her life. It made no sense and all the sense in the world.

“When’s the next time you’re going to see him?”

“Tomorrow night at our Warriors Riding meeting.”

“I see.” Perry sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

What do you want?
The Spirit spoke to her so softly she almost missed it.

I want to love again.
She turned and gazed over the water.

Yes. I want that for you too. Is Perry the one?

It was a question she should be asking the Spirit, not the other way around. Right? No, she knew the truth. Knew the answer because it was as clear as the cobalt sky above her.

She turned and looked at Perry. “There’s nothing going on between us.” Nothing between her and anyone. Except for the gnawing feeling deep down inside that she wouldn’t even tell herself about. She took off her sunglasses once more. “And there never will be. I don’t think we should see each other again.”

They didn’t speak on the way back to shore and their good-bye was short and tense. Where did she go from here? Not Perry. Certainly not Brandon. No way, never. If God truly wanted her to find love again he would have to create the painting of romance. Because as far as she could see, the canvas was utterly blank.

Dana shifted her mind to the meeting tomorrow night and the strange line Doug’s cryptic e-mail portended for their meeting.
“. . . when we meet you will go deeper than you’ve ever gone before.”

It sounded like the gathering would be one to remember.

TEN

R
EECE FELT THE HANDS OF HIS WATCH ON
S
UNDAY
,
WISHING
his meeting with Tamera was already over. Twenty minutes till she arrived. He had a feel for what she wanted to talk about, and the answer he would give her certainly wouldn’t be the one she wanted.

He sat on his back deck, the late afternoon sun on his face, the image of what the maple trees looked like at this time of year filling his mind, leaves full of light from the sky turning them a more brilliant green, tiny veins weaving through their form. How he missed seeing them.

Nineteen minutes later a knock came from the front of the cabin. Reece heard Doug invite Tamera in. A creaking came from the living room floor and Reece imagined the woman bouncing across the floor as if trying to burn off some of the perpetual energy she stored inside. Then closer, into the kitchen and out through the screen door that led onto the back deck. The shuffle of two pairs of shoes went silent.

“Tamera is here to see you.”

Reece turned to the sound of his voice. “Thanks, Doug.”

“My pleasure.”

Reece imagined his friend giving a slight bow, a smile, and a flick of his upturned hand toward Tamera that would have fit into eighteenth-century England like an ivory-colored glove. Tamera
and everyone else who saw it wouldn’t understand it was Doug’s dry sense of humor on display for anyone who had eyes to see.

The sound of Tamera sitting in the chair across from him pushed the image of Doug from his mind. “Hey, stranger.”

“Good afternoon, Tamera.” He pictured her as he’d last seen her. Short blond hair, fair skin, in excellent shape of course.