To Dream Again by Laura Lee Guhrke Read Free Book Online

trunks, and furniture. They were scattered across the floor and piled in the corners among countless books, loose papers, and machinery. To her left stood a table where a toy train moved around an elaborate track surrounded by tiny buildings.
    A narrow path cut through the clutter from the door to an empty space in the center of the room, where her bizarre neighbor sat cross-legged on the floor. All around him, tops spun, little tin-plated animals scurried to and fro, and trains moved across the floor. A tall wooden statue of an American Indian stood nearby, presiding over the chaos in dignified contemplation.
    Toys? She wouldn't have believed it of a grown man, but she was seeing it with her own eyes. A grown man playing with toys.
    In his hands was a little tin-plated dog, and he seemed to be winding a knob in its side. Speechless, she watched as he set the dog on the floor and released it. The animal immediately began moving, wagging its tail as it headed straight toward her. It hit the toe of her shoe and came to a halt, unable to go any farther.
    She lifted her gaze from the toy dog to the man seated on the floor. He looked up at her over the gold rims of his spectacles and smiled. "Hullo," he greeted in a voice loud enough to carry over the din.
    He pulled off his spectacles and gestured to the dog at her feet. "Terribly sorry," he shouted to her, "but you're in the way. Would you mind moving your foot?"
    She frowned in puzzlement, uncertain she had heard correctly. "I beg your pardon?" she called back.
    "I want the dog to go out the door, and I'm afraid you're in the way." He turned and set the spectacles on a crate behind him. "So, if you wouldn't mind stepping aside?"
    Mara glanced over her shoulder. "But it will go down the stairs."
    "Exactly."
    She knew it. The man was crazy, nutty as a Christmas fruitcake. She stepped over the dog and turned, watching through the doorway as it crossed the landing, reached the first step, and went tumbling down.
    Mr. Chase went past her and down the stairs to retrieve the toy. He came back, holding the tin-plated animal in his hand. "That's the fifth time," he declared as he halted several feet from her. He set the dog on the floor, sending it off in a different direction. "And it's still running. Clockwork mechanisms are usually much more fragile."
    She turned her head and watched the dog dubiously for a moment, as it ran between the legs of a large telescope standing nearby and disappeared.
    She couldn't think of anything to say. Just how did one talk to a lunatic? She cleared her throat and looked up to find that he had moved closer. He was standing only a foot or two away, watching her, utterly still amid the motion surrounding them.
    The morning sun through the windows caught the brown of his hair, turning it to burnished gold and gilding the tips of his thick lashes. His vivid blue eyes held hers with that look of perception she'd seen once before, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. It was most disconcerting.
    "I want my buttonhook," she blurted out.
    A frown crossed his handsome face, and he slapped a hand to his forehead. "I forgot to return it to you, didn't I? Terribly sorry."
    He moved past her and walked to the desk, navigating his way around the toys still moving across the floor. Then he began to search amid the mess. "It proved to be very useful." He waved a hand vaguely toward the locomotive on the table. "As you can see, my train is working now. Thank you."
    "You're welcome," she replied in an ungracious tone, ignoring the warm smile he gave her.
    "Meant to return it first thing, but I became distracted." He lifted his head and paused in his search. "Trying to decide which toys are worth making. My meeting, you know. We won't be able to make them all, more's the pity."
    "I see." Mara didn't see at all. She felt a bit like Alice in the Lewis Carroll story. She wondered if Mr. Chase owned a rabbit.
    He seemed to sense her confusion. A smile lifted the