Dreamscape by Rose Anderson Read Free Book Online

from toting them here and there. She’d tried to pack light for the week, but they were heavy nonetheless. Her ankles began to throb the moment she sat down, so she set her bags before her and put her feet up. Loosening her hot collar and removing her straw bonnet, she resisted the urge to plunge her feet in the nearby fountain. Lulled into relaxation by the dappled sunlight and mumbling bumblebees, she rested her head on her arm intending to close her eyes for only a minute.
    * * * *
    Afraid to find the doorknob would have no more substance than he, Jason flexed his fingers before touching the front door. That it opened thrilled him beyond belief. He hadn’t been able to leave the house since he found himself attending his own memorial service, as contrived an event as it had been. Standing on the wraparound porch, he took in the sights and sounds of the world in which he had lived. The detail of her dream was simply amazing. He could even smell his mother’s flowers and hear the hummingbirds and bumblebees. A ding-dong-ding caught his attention, and he turned to see the ragman’s cart slowly rolling down the street. The waving man called, “Good afternoon, Doctor Bowen.”
    The name came instantly to his mind. “How are you, Mr. Singer?”
    “That boil you lanced is gone as you said it would be. I can’t thank you enough, Doctor.”
    As if it occurred yesterday, Jason suddenly remembered the nasty, plum-sized abscess he’d lanced and drained a hundred and twenty-three years before. “Glad to hear it.”
    Heading toward the gazebo where Addy suggested he go to see the woman who’d come to call, he found Lanie there exactly where his housekeeper said she be, sitting on the bench asleep and leaning upon her arm. He took the moment to drink in the sight of her, unable to decide if she were prettier in his time or in hers. Her time left nothing to the imagination, her rounded curves, her shapely legs covered by trousers that were so tight they looked to be painted on. In his time she was a mystery, one that beckoned a man to unravel. He wondered about the heavy looking valises sitting at her feet and noticed her scuffed shoes. She’d obviously been out walking today, and he could only imagine where her dream had taken her. He braced his arms upon the rail and leaned close to whisper for her ears alone, “Wake up, lovely lady.”
    “Oh!” she said, startled, her cornflower blue eyes large. “I’m sorry, I must have drifted off.” She hastily buttoned her collar. “Dr. Bowen, I presume?”
    He smiled. “Jason Bowen at your service, ma’am. I’m told I have a visitor and I find you. How may I help you, Miss…?”
    “Elaine O’Keefe. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.” She held out her hand, which he took and bowed over.
    “Miss Elaine O’Keefe. Elaine, do friends perhaps call you Lanie? May I as well?”
    How he came to guess her less formal moniker she couldn’t say, but the question left her mind the instant he smiled.
    “Why…yes, yes of course.” He was nicely made, tall and broad-shouldered with beautiful amber-colored eyes and soft-looking dark brown hair. His features were extremely pleasant and startlingly familiar. How incredibly handsome you are.
    His smile widened. “Then you shall call me Jason.”
    The smile lit his eyes and made him more handsome if that were possible. Her cheeks warming, she returned it. “Jason.”
    Jason’s heart tripped. Seeing her smile at people nearly every day was nothing compared to having that loveliness directed at him.
    Taking a seat across from her with his forearms on his knees, he leaned forward with interest. “So how may I be of service, Lanie?”
    “My father has passed away…”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Thank you. He’s died and left me properties, two businesses, a textile factory, and a small millinery shop. The clothing shop also sells the textiles you see, mostly ribbons and broadcloth—”
    He said suddenly, “Your father was James