Man of Her Dreams Debra Webb (top 100 books to read txt) 📖

respiration picked up, each breath harder than the last to draw into her lungs.

She could smell the water…the river. Rotting foliage. The grass was deep. No, not grass…weeds…underbrush. The woods. She was in the woods along the river. It was dark. She was alone. The ambient sounds of night echoed so loudly in her ears she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. If she screamed, he would know she was there.

A sound came from behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks. It came again. The brush of foliage against fabric. Someone was behind her…coming closer.

Darby turned around slowly, careful not to make a sound.

She sucked in a breath…sat straight up at her desk.

It was him.

She blinked.

Shook herself from the mist of sleep still clinging to her soul.

“Ms. Shepard!”

“Ms. Shepard, what’s the matter?”

Darby blinked again and the children’s faces came into focus. All six of those who remained in her class stood in front of her desk staring at her wide-eyed, fear dancing across their little faces.

“I’m fine,” she said thickly. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

Her fingers were clenched into fists. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“You kept jerking and wiggling,” little Matt Caruthers told her. “My dog does that sometimes when he sleeps. Were you having a nightmare, Ms. Shepard?”

She nodded and forced her fingers to relax. “I guess so, Matt. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten any of you.”

Darby stood, smoothed her hands over her skirt and moved around her desk. “Let’s read a story. Jenny, you choose this time.”

For the rest of the afternoon Darby went through the motions. She read to the children and they talked about the different stories that each of them loved. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep those deep, dark woods out of her mind. She’d seen him there. Somewhere near the river. Of course, in New Orleans that could be a lot of places. But it was something.

For the first time in her life, she felt certain she could reach out and touch him…see what he saw. That’s what she’d been doing in the dream. That’s why he’d been behind her. She’d been seeing through his eyes part of the time.

But how much time did she have before he hurt one or all of the children? Could she spare the time it might take to focus her mind fully on his location?

Time was her enemy.

The children might not have time.

WHEN HER LAST STUDENT had gone, Darby rushed from the school without exchanging the usual pleasantries with her friends and co-workers. She had to hurry. She pedaled as fast as she dared in the afternoon traffic. She had made up her mind that she needed help for this. The kind of help only a self-professed psychic could give.

She’d heard the other teachers talk about Madam Talia. Some even admitted to having had their futures told by the woman. Madam Talia had a reputation for being the best in New Orleans. One of those magazine talk shows had even done a special program on her. Darby wasn’t exactly sure she believed in that sort of thing, but she didn’t have anything to lose. If the woman knew anything at all about clairvoyance, she was way ahead of Darby. That was all that mattered at the moment.

Madam Talia’s shop boasted a landmark location on the corner of Bourbon Street. Well, Darby deduced as she parked her bike on the sidewalk and locked it securely, at the very least the lady was making a living. She had to be doing something right. Surely Darby would sense if the woman was a fake.

There was only one way to find out.

An older woman dressed much like any typical receptionist met Darby in the small lobby. Surprisingly, the waiting room was decorated in an elegant and conservative manner. It was nothing like she’d expected.

“My name is Darby Shepard,” she told the receptionist. “I’d like to see Madam Talia. It’s very important.”

The lady, who was dressed in just as quietly elegant a fashion as the office was decorated, smiled patiently. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Shepard, but you’ll need to make an appointment. Madam Talia is booked weeks in advance. She doesn’t take walk-ins.”

Darby’s hopes fell. But she had to see her today. Desperation surged. “I’ll only take a minute,” she countered. “It’s extremely important. I really need to see her today.”

The woman looked sympathetic but said, “I sympathize with your urgency, but there’s simply nothing I can do. Madam Talia is with a client as we speak and she expects her next appointment to arrive shortly.”

Darby heaved a sigh. Oh well. The whole idea had been foolish anyway, she supposed. She’d just have to go home and see what she could do on her own.

“Thanks anyway,” she offered, then turned to leave. Worry gnawed at her insides. She had to help those children. She should have tried before now, shouldn’t have been such a coward. If something happened to them, it would be partly her fault for not trying to help sooner.

“Ms. Shepard.”

Darby wheeled around at the sound of the new voice that called her name. Though she had never met Madam Talia, she knew instinctively that the refined lady who had addressed her was, indeed, the woman she wanted to see.

“Come this way, Ms. Shepard.”

Unable to find her voice, Darby followed. The receptionist said nothing more as she resumed her seat behind her well-polished desk.

Madam Talia led Darby down a long narrow corridor and then into a small room that resembled the parlor in her mother’s home. The upholstered furnishings were New Orleans red, the wood detailing a rich mahogany.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” her hostess suggested with a wave of her arm.

Darby sat in one of the chairs flanking a small table. Madam Talia settled in the one adjacent to her.

“I’ve been wondering when I would meet you,” she said to Darby.

Startled, Darby smiled. “I…I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always known you were here, Ms. Shepard,” Madam Talia said. “I just didn’t know why, but I think