Chasing Happy Read online

  “Coffee.” The thought struck him, she should drink something warm. “Tea.” He looked at her in question.

  Her eyes were half lidded but her pupils were back to normal, the black half of her left eye darker than ever.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I feel so stupid.”

  He sat on the edge of the couch by her feet. “You scared the crap out of me. What the hell happened to your face?”

  She turned, hiding what he’d already seen, making him feel like shit for asking.

  "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm not trying to be rude. Did you have an accident or something?"

  "Last week," she nodded. "Fell off my bike."

  "Some fall," he commented. “Do you sleep walk a lot?” He changed the subject.

  “Not usually no, just this week." She shivered and then let out a huge yawn, wincing and pressing a hand to her cheek. “I ended up chest deep in a lake or something.”

  Max sat up straighter. “You what?”

  “It’s salt water.” She yawned again. “Must be an inlet.”

  “You sleep walked...into water?”

  “Mmhmm,” she mumbled her eyes sliding closed.

  Max ran his hands through his hair. He'd already felt like crap about blowing her off this past week but between the door she slammed in his face and the Wendy situation, he figured it was easier to check in with her when things cooled down. Maybe when she and Wendy made up, or he figured out what he’d said to piss her off so much.

  Well, he knew what he said. He’d said something about her not understanding how hard Wendy worked and she’d shut him down. Closed up and locked him out, end of story. Obviously, that was the wrong call. He and Wendy had come from an upper middle class family and had never struggled financially, but it didn’t negate how hard he and Wendy had worked for what they had. Their parents had paid for their educations but they had both started businesses on their own. That was the point he’d been trying to make about Wendy working to make her business run when he’d made the comment about her not understanding.

  He’d always thought as he got older, he’d learn more about women. That they’d be magically easier to understand, but they just got more confusing and complicated.

  He watched Rosie sleep, contemplating the angry scab on her cheek before pulling out his cell phone.

  “Hey,” Wendy said when she answered. “Don’t tell me you aren’t coming.”

  Max hesitated. Driving into town to move office and cleaning supplies seemed unimportant when compared to staying with Rosie while she slept on the couch.

  “Silence? That’s your answer?” she screeched.

  “No, it’s not that,” he told her. “I ran into Rosie.”

  He was greeted with silence. This had been a touchy subject with Wendy.

  “And?”

  “And I found her wandering down the side of the road, disoriented. She's pretty beat up, says she fell off her bike last week.”

  “What do you mean, disoriented?” She at least sounded concerned.

  “She said she was sleep walking."

  "Sleep walking?" Wendy sounded doubtful

  "I believe her. She said the last time it happened she woke up chest deep in what I can only assume is Smith’s Cove. She’s asleep on my couch right now."

  “What?” Wendy breathed. She interrupted before he could say another word. “Keep her there. I’m on my way.”

  He didn’t think keeping her there would be a problem, she was out like a light, head back and sleeping deeply. He took the quiet moment to watch her and give himself some small peace of mind that she was okay. Her hair was messy, half out of its pony tail and his gaze homed in on her neck and the handful of vertical white lines, like healed cuts.

  What the hell had she been doing this week?

  7

  Rosie knew, without a shadow of a doubt, where she was. It was hard to forget somewhere you hated with such a passion. The Coleman State Psychiatric Hospital was right at the top of her list.

  "I knew you'd be back."

  A young man in his early teens, thin and waif-like, wearing hospital issued blue johnny stood next to her.

  "Leo. You're still here?"

  "Here. There.” He gave a careless shrug. "I don't have anywhere else."

  She looked around and was struck with memories, reminding her why she hated the place so much. Endless cinderblock walls, long hallways, and faceless orderlies that loved to man handle overmedicated kids.

  Leo stepped away and looked out a window.

  She remembered the window well. She knew if she looked through the grate she'd see an overgrown garden with a broken fountain. She'd spent endless weeks looking out that window imagining the flowers that could grow there. Like a coloring book she'd add different flowers in every corner, planting a new garden every day.

  "She's coming for you," Leo said, turning back to look at her.

  She was reminded of the dream she had where her mother said the same thing.

  "Who is she?"

  He gave her another shrug.

  "Someone else already gave me that message," she told him.

  "They don't care. You need to hear it again."

  "Is it the woman in the woods? The one in the water?"

  "No. Someone else. She needs you."

  "That's enough Mr. Lincoln.” The stern warning sent a chill down Rosie's spine.

  Nurse Willet. The meanest of all the nurses to ever walk the halls. A most hateful woman who enjoyed inflicting pain on her charges at the hospital.

  She appeared at Leo’s side in the blink of an eye.

  "Time for your meds kids.” Her smile was straight out of a serial killer's handbook, menacing and full of hellish promise. It stretched across her face, farther and farther until it ripped her skin from ear to ear and exposed the meat of her jawbone.

  Rosie took two steps back.

  "You're not going to leave me here again, are you?" Leo asked, his lips turned down. "Last time you left me here I died."

  "I didn't leave you here," Rosie argued weakly, taking another step away. But the truth was, she had left him there and he’d died.

  "I didn't have a choice," she corrected.

  "She's coming for you," Leo reminded her taking a few steps to follow her.

  Rosie backed farther away but for every one of her steps, Leo and Nurse Willet advanced.

  "She'll use you all up," Nurse Willet laughed, her jaw nearly unhinging. "You'll be here with us before you know it."

  "You're all ready," Leo pointed at her body.

  She looked down to see herself dressed in the same blue johnny she'd word when she'd been a patient at Coleman. Panic hit her hard, sending her into a frenzy, tearing it from her body. She grabbed the front with both hands but it wouldn't come undone, no matter how she tugged and pulled.

  Leo looked sad but Nurse Willet laughed, her face a macabre nightmare of bone and flesh.

  Claustrophobic and full of panic Rosie pulled as hard as she could and let out a guttural scream.

  Rosie woke up screaming, jackknifing off the bed as bright sunlight streamed across her face. She was warm and dry but had no idea where she was, her scream dying in her throat. A quick look around reminded her she was at Max's house. A tall, antique dresser was against the wall by the door, a pile of guy stuff on top, jeans strewn over what was probably a chair in the corner of the room and boots littered the floor.

  It took her a second to bring it all back into focus. Her crazy sleepwalking episodes, the woman haunting her from the woods, and Max dragging her to his truck.

  Not Coleman.

  Heavy footfalls echoed from behind the closed door headed her way in a hurry. The door flew open with a creak and Wendy stood at the door.

  "Are you okay?” She quickly glanced around the room.

  "Yeah," she replied breathless and feeling silly.

  "You scared the crap out of me. You were screaming."

  Rosie took stock before answerin
g. "I'm okay. Just a dream.” An all too real dream that took her places she never wanted to see again.

  Wendy nodded. "Must have been one hell of a nightmare. I feel like whenever I have a nightmare and need to scream I can't." Wendy came and sat on the bed and kept talking, pretending the last few weeks hadn't happened. As if Rosie hadn't betrayed her trust.

  "I'm just like, running through the woods with an ax murdered behind me but instead of screaming I'm whimpering."

  "I've had those too," Rosie admitted, feeling out of place and guilty as hell.

  She started to throw the covers off when the other woman stopped her. "Can we talk?" When she nodded, Wendy took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. "I'm still mad."

  "I'm still sorry,” Rosie answered without hesitation. "I wish I would have told you sooner. I didn't know how and it wasn't until after I told you, I realized I was too late."

  "How could you keep that from me? I thought we were friends." Wendy had on her puppy dog eyes, exuding sadness.

  Rosie shook her head thinking it might be time for some honesty. "I didn't want to be your friend."

  "Ouch," Wendy muttered, her face turning down.

  "I wanted you to just be my boss and keep it professional. That's what I told myself every time I felt guilty, that we weren't friends and I should keep my mouth shut. But when I wasn't looking, we became friends. I don't know how it happened." Rosie felt a very real sense of desperation, totally blindsided by the feeling of connection she felt with Wendy. She'd spent so long actively avoiding relationships and friendships she hadn't even realized she was in one.

  "I kept bugging you," Wendy admitted. "I kept talking to you until you finally talked back one day. I knew you were trying to keep your life private."

  She nodded pitifully in agreement. "I should have told you sooner. I just didn't realize."

  Wendy held her gaze, making their conversation so much more personal. "What’s so bad about having friends, Rosie?"

  Rosie held out her hand and grabbed Wendy's in her own. "It's not you. I suck at the friend thing and I screw it up every time so I stopped doing it."

  Wendy was quiet. "So, we’re not friends." It wasn’t a question.

  "It's too late now! I just figured out I had a friend in the same second I lost her. See how that works for me?"

  Rosie felt a Wendy squeeze her hand. "You didn't lose me. I was mad. Still am, but Max called and said you needed me so here I am. That's what friends do."

  She thought about Max. "He must think I'm nuts."

  Wendy looked thoughtful for a second. "Actually, he looks worried. I had to send him out to do some work this morning because his pacing was driving me nuts.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I think he likes you."

  Rosie threw her a deadpan expression.

  "What?" Wendy asked. "He does. I know him. He's feeling the feelings for you."

  "That's exactly what I don't need,” Rosie told her. When he'd been at her camper a few weeks ago, he was sweet and adorable in a sexy way but she didn't want to feel any feelings, as Wendy put it. It would make it worse if he felt feelings too.

  "Well, you didn't want or need me either, but here I am. This is all going to turn out just fine, you'll see. Now, will you tell me what the hell happened to you? I wrestled you into pajamas last night so I know how banged up you are."

  She sighed. "I fell off my bike last week. I'm fine, though. It's not a big deal."

  "Your leg looks like it's been through a meat grinder. And your poor face, Rosie. That must have been a heck of a fall."

  "It was more of a slide," she admitted, avoiding all thoughts of where that slide led her.

  There was a knock at the open door and Max stood there. "Did we kiss and make up in here?"

  "Shut up,” Wendy told him without heat. "Rosie was just telling me about falling off her bike."

  "Slide,” Rosie corrected again. "It was more of a slide. I was riding home one night and there was something in the road. When I tried to swerve around it, I slid, that's all."

  Max came in and sat next to his sister on the bed.

  "Thank you, for letting me stay here."

  "You must have been crazy tired," he told her. "You've been asleep since yesterday afternoon."

  She looked around the room, searching for a clock and climbing out of bed. "Are you kidding me? I had to work last night!”

  "Slow your roll, Ace, the boss gave you a few days off,” Wendy said, her eyebrows raised. "You want to tell us what happened yesterday?"

  "I don't want a few days off," she said, ignoring the question and sliding her feet to the floor. Looking down she realized she was in black sweatpants that hung off her body and a big man sized t-shirt. Max's big dog was lying on the floor at her feet. "Where are my clothes?"

  "Wendy washed them,” Max said. "Yours were dirty. You know, from walking through the woods half dressed."

  She held a hand to her forehead, not needing the reminder. Though her senses were quiet, she felt a little out of control and off balance. Auras remained wisps instead of clouds and other than the dog, her companions from the other side were quiet.

  She felt the quiet all the way down to her bones. Often, she picked up thoughts from Wendy, like maybe she wanted to go the carwash or she wanted a pair of shoes she passed by, but today Rosie felt nothing.

  There was just quiet.

  "I need to get home."

  "Come eat breakfast," Wendy started.

  "I've got to let Gizmo out," Rosie continued. "And get cleaned up. I'm so sorry about all this."

  "I'll give you a ride,” Max said, watchful and quiet. He seemed almost somber as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Rosie felt it important to point out to Wendy, "Definitely not feeling the feelings."

  Wendy laughed. "Oh my God, you're so blind. He's like, in a whirlwind of the feelings. He's feeling so many feelings he can barely even see straight."

  He was? She had about zero experience with men and feelings so it was possible what Wendy said was true. If it was true, how wise was it for her to let him give her a ride home? If she did let him give her a ride home did that equate to leading him on? She barely knew him, besides thinking he was good looking and sweet. And kind of a white knight, if she thought about him carrying her into his house yesterday.

  "It's just a ride, Rosie,” Wendy laughed. "You look like you're trying to solve the world's problems."

  She didn't dare admit she wanted to get involved with a guy even less than she wanted a friend.

  "Let me grab your clothes from the laundry and then Max can give you a ride home. I have to go into the office but I'll swing by to check in on you.” She ran out of the room but was back in seconds. “Are you sure you’re okay?

  "Yeah," she assured Wendy. "I'm fine. Just remembered something I needed to do at home," she lied.

  Wendy looked concerned. "Is it something you need help with? I'm sure Max or I can help with if you're hurting."

  "Wendy, I have a few scrapes. It’s no big deal."

  "Come on.” Out of nowhere Wendy grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room.

  "Wait," Rosie pulled against her. "I have to make the bed."

  Wendy waved it off. "Max is a big boy. He can make his own damn bed.”

  Wendy pulled her down a set of stairs. They looked original to the old farmhouse but updated, a warm, neutral tan color covered the wall above woodwork that had been painted white. At the bottom of the stairs they found Max in the living room, sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.

  "She's ready to go home when you are,” Wendy chirped.

  Suddenly, Rosie felt like she was being thrown to the wolves. Why was Wendy so pushy of a sudden and why was she shoving Rosie out the door?

  Max looked up, exhaustion written all over his face, and she was immediately flushed with guilt.

  "Rosie might need a hand with a few things out at her place. I have to head into the office but you said you ha
d a light afternoon,” Wendy told her brother.

  "Okay.” He smiled and though it didn't seem forced, it was dim. It wasn't the same smile he'd sent her when they'd met a few weeks ago.

  And why would it be? He'd picked her up wandering down the road like a lunatic. She wanted to slap herself. Why did she care?

  Wendy waved from the front door as Max showed Rosie to his truck. They walked down the front steps off a wide porch and onto a gravel driveway. She held her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and looked around.

  "You live on a farm," she breathed, shocked.

  "I do," he answered, a smile in his voice.

  She pointed to a small fenced in area she could see a corner of where there was hay strewn around. "Does something live in there?"

  She looked back at him to find his lips stretched wide, his real smile gracing his face.

  "Yeah," he laughed. "Something lives in there."

  She began to walk in that direction, wanting to see what it was.

  "Slow down there," he grabbed her arm. "You aren't exactly dressed for farm exploration."

  She looked down at herself, back in her shorts and wearing a borrowed sweatshirt and a pair of Max's slippers.

  "Oh," she muttered, disappointed. "Yeah. Okay."

  She turned around and headed back to his truck but was distracted when she caught a glimpse of the fields behind the garage area.

  "Oh," she was awestruck. “You grow things too."

  "I do," he answered again.

  She wanted to go look. She wanted to see everything but didn't dare ask. He was right, she wasn't dressed for it and it wasn't her place. Maybe he didn't want her traipsing all over his farm.

  His farm for crying out loud.

  Suddenly his aura made complete sense. He was a cultivator. Someone who grew and cared for things, everything from animals to people to relationships would fall under that heading for someone like him. He would feel fulfilled surrounded by people and things he could tend to. He was someone who loved nature and loved to nurture.

  Interesting, she thought.

  "Rosie," he said quietly, getting her attention.

  "Sorry," she said quickly, studiously not looking at the barn with the animals or the obviously well-tended fields. "I'm ready."