Forgotten Dreams Read online

  After settling the phone in the dashboard holder, he programmed the GPS for Fern Lake. When he was closer to the town, he would call Rob for specific directions to his house.

  As the garage door closed behind him, his phone chimed. He let the message go to voice mail. He had no desire to speak to Gregson before he had a solid plan. He drove to the interstate and dodged through traffic, heading east.

  Two thousand eight hundred miles, give or take a few, according to the GPS, and he intended to make it well under the estimated trip time. He could have flown but people would know where he went and the press would have followed. Once he reached Rob’s house, they would discuss the movie and how to produce the film.

  Reaching Fern Lake was vital. During this trip he would only stop for gas, food and sleep.

  So he left California and paid little attention to the scenery. As he drove, he considered his options. Change the Storm contract. Go to another studio. Find an independent film maker. Produce the film himself. That could be a way to use all the courses about films he’d taken over the years. Rob would help him decide. Though Chad owned the movie script, the book and final decision belonged to Rob.

  On the third day of travel, somewhere in the Midwest, he stopped for gas and grub. After filling the tank, he pulled into the parking lot of a diner. He entered the classic building where he found a booth and studied the menu.

  “Oh my god, it really is him,” a shrill vice yelled.

  A stampede of teens surrounded the booth. One of the boys grinned. “Storm, my man, you doing a movie around here?”

  “Could we be in it?” squealed a girl with pastel streaks in her dark hair.

  Chad swallowed. How to get out of this? “Who the bloody devil is Storm?” He pulled a British accent from his community theater days.

  “You’re putting us on,” A husky boy shouted. “We know you’re not really Storm. You’re Chad Morgan.”

  “You are so kick ass,” a third boy said.

  Chad reached into his pocket. “I fear you are mistaken.” He flipped the wallet open and flashed his false license. “Ian Greve, at your service.”

  One by one the teens walked away. A waitress arrived and took his order. “You sure do look like him.”

  “I have heard everyone has a double.”

  When his meal arrived he dug in, finished, left a tip and paid the bill. Though he wanted to run, he sauntered to his car. That moment of identification had been closer than he wanted. He waved to the group of teens who stood outside the diner. “Cherrio.”

  “Nice wheels,” one shouted.

  On the afternoon of his third day of travel, exhaustion swamped him, though he wasn’t far from his destination, exhaustion swamped him. He had to stop, find a room and sleep for at least eight hours or risk falling asleep at the wheel. He read the signs for the next exit and saw a sign for a motel five miles ahead. Moments later, he pulled into the parking lot and hoped there would be no repeat of the diner scene.

  With cash and his alternate ID, he had no trouble registering. The desk clerk arched an eyebrow but made no comment. After a late lunch in the motel dining room, he went to his room and called Rob. According to the signs he figured he was a hundred and fifty miles from Fern Lake.

  “Chad, where are you?” Rob asked. “The scandal sheets have you shacked up with your next starring actress.”

  Chad laughed. “Good to hear. Actually I’m on my way to your house. We need to talk about the movie. Just where are you living these days?”

  “At the cabin.”

  Chad nearly laughed when he remembered the large structure Rob called a cabin. “Does the hideaway have a street address?”

  “Just RDF on Mountain Road.”

  “Spell out the directions.”

  Chad wrote quickly as his friend spoke and read the directions back to him. “How accurate are the miles?”

  “Very. I measured them one day. When you reach the gate, there’s a box. You need to punch in these numbers.” He recited them. “Since the trouble last year, the cabin has become a fortress.” Chad read the numbers back. “See you tomorrow for lunch.”

  He stripped and sprawled on the bed. In seconds he slept. He didn’t wake until nine the next morning. Though still tired, he showered and dressed. A hearty breakfast and a carafe of coffee energized him.

  At the car, he read the directions into his phone and left. An hour later, he left the interstate and laughed. Forty miles to go.

  Some miles later his voice came from the phone. Chad yawned until his eyes watered. “In three tenths of a mile turn right.” He scanned the other side of the road and spotted the gate posts. In the distance a line of traffic approached with a slow moving truck in the lead. He had time to make the turn into the road leading to Rob’s. He made his move and looked up.

  “No,” he shouted.

  A pickup truck barreled from behind the line of cars and headed for the Ferrari. Chad hit the gas but not hard enough. The truck hit the rear of his car. Controlling the wheel was impossible. Though he tried to brake, his car slammed into the concrete gate post of the gate guarding the lane to Rob’s house. For an instant Rob felt nothing. Then pain rolled through him. The sensation was so strong, he lost consciousness.

  Chapter 2

  After a Saturday morning of having breakfast with Claire and Brian and cleaning house, Emma picked up her bag. “I’m off to make rounds and visit Manon. See you this afternoon.”

  Brian grinned. “Mom and I are going to the playground near the school. Maybe some of my friends will be there.”

  “I hope they are.” Her six year old nephew had settled into the summer program at the Academy and had made friends. “Have fun. We’ll rent a movie and pop some corn this evening.”

  He clapped her hand. “Which one?”

  Emma shrugged. “A surprise.”

  Claire winked. “Why rent one? You have a number starring you know who.”

  Emma glared. “They’re not suitable for young eyes. I’m considering getting rid of them.” That might be a good first step in the freeing herself from the past.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” In that instant she decided to stop yearning for what she would never have.

  “Good to hear. Do you really intend to forget him?”

  Emma opened the kitchen door. “I believe I am.”

  “Good luck.”

  And she would need every iota of good fortune. She’d clung to a dream for ten long years. Losing this obsession would allow her to find love and a family. Though her resolve strengthened she felt a moment of sadness.

  “Say hello and congrats to Manon,” Claire called.

  “Will do.” After rounds she intended to visit her partner and see the son who, despite the fact that his official due date was a month away, had arrived early this morning.

  She parked in the doctor’s lot and hurried inside to visit the practice’s four patients. For two she wrote discharge orders. On the others, she ordered new tests and consultations.

  Rounds completed, she rode the elevator to the second floor and walked to the maternity unit. She tapped on the door of Manon’s private room. Her friend reclined on the bed propped by pillows. Her husband lounged on a chair beside the bed.

  “Congratulations to you both,” Emma said. “So you managed to have your child born under our Sun sign.”

  “So we did,” Rafe said. “And we’ll be home in plenty of time for our mutual birthday party.”

  “We need to add Claire to the group,” Emma said. “Hers is the day after mine.”

  “And Maria, Jay’s new wife,” Manon said.

  Rafe rose. “I’m on my way home. Be in later.”

  “With food, I hope.” Manon kissed him.

  While they said goodbye, Emma stood at the clear sided crib to stare at the baby. Envy surged. She wanted one but before she could, she had to expunge her memories. “He’s handsome.”

  Manon laughed. “Says a soon to be a doting aunt. Rafe Junior lo
oks just like a baby.”

  “Guess you won the naming battle.”

  “Easily. Sit and visit.”

  “I’m happy for you.” While she had four siblings and a young nephew, she wanted a child. Unfortunately, there was no special man in her life and she had no desire to become a single mother. All she had was a dream she must forget. She walked to the chair. “How do you feel?”

  “Sore.” Manon chuckled. “Lighter. Free. Tell me about the patients. Any potential problems?”

  “We’re down to two in-house. I’m asking OT to see Sally Lund. I think Dr. Reid should have a look at Mr. Palmo. I had to change his drugs again.”

  “Good thought about the consult.” Manon yawned. “Six weeks before I can return to work. I’ll owe you.”

  Emma nodded. “You will. I would like to take a trip in late September or early October.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “California.”

  Manon frowned. “Why?”

  “To put an end to feelings I’ve had for ages. Those regarding an old flame.” Emma gulped a breath. “Do you know Fern Lake’s most famous former resident lives there? We were an item in high school. I need to expunge my fantasies.”

  “Did you love him?”

  Emma nodded. “Head over heels. I thought he felt the same. I waited for him to return. Didn’t happen.”

  “Must have hurt.” Manon touched her hand.

  Emma nodded. She fought the rise of tears. “When his mother left town to live with him, she and I talked about my coming for a visit. I kept delaying to deal with my sib’s teenage emotions. Then she died and for two years all I’ve seen or heard are tabloid stories. Yet like a fool I hoped. I need to tell him face to face how much I hurt.”

  “You’re right. Years ago when I was told Rafe had died, I was furious. On the night of the prom, he’d run away and I didn’t know why. Then I was told he died. When he returned I was hurt and angry. Slowly I learned the real story and we found each other again. Maybe seeing Chad will have the same result.”

  Emma shook her head. “Not possible. He has a different kind of life but I need to vent to him so I can move on.”

  “Then go for it. Wish I could tell you to leave now.” She yawned again.

  Emma rose. What her friend said made sense. She must move away from childish dreams. “I’ll stop by tomorrow when I make rounds and then visit you at home to deliver the gifts I haven’t wrapped.”

  “Don’t waste the paper. You know I would only tear paper to shreds.”

  Emma stepped into the hall. She could go home and make a sandwich but her stomach growled. Claire and Brian were having lunch out. She reached the ground floor and headed to the cafeteria. She assembled a salad and stopped for the chef to add thin slices of ham, turkey, cheese and eggs. After paying, she filled a large cup with iced tea and carried her lunch to a table near the window.

  As she ate, a group of young nurses sat at the next table. Though she hadn’t meant to listen, their loud excited voices caught her attention.

  “I nearly went crazy when the ambulance brought him in,” one nurse said.

  “Why?” asked a second.

  A third leaned forward. “We thought he was Chad Morgan.”

  The fourth laughed. “Why would a Hollywood hunk come to Fern Lake? We’re not a tourist destination.”

  “Alas he isn’t Storm.” The first nurse sighed. “His name is Ian Greve. Still he has a face and bod to drool over.”

  “So what happened to him?”

  “Car accident. He’s responding but in pain. Keeps passing out and they can’t give him anything for pain until the surgeon arrives.”

  Emma gulped her tea. She knew that name. Chad’s middle name was Ian and his mother’s maiden name was Greve. The nurses at the other table were too young to know Chad had been a track star and a leading actor in school and in community theater productions. She couldn’t imagine any reason for him to come home. He never had before.

  “I still wish I could be his nurse,” the first young nurse said. “If he’ll be here for weeks, there’s a chance.”

  Emma finished her salad and carried her tray to the cleanup area. As she walked toward the exit, she paused. Curiosity stirred. If he was Chad, why was he in Fern Lake? She reversed direction and headed to the ER.

  At the desk, she paused to speak to the nurse practitioner on duty. “I hear you have a new admit from a car accident.”

  Her friend looked up. “Ambulance chasing?”

  Emma laughed. “If his name is Ian Greve, I may know him.”

  “Glad someone does.” She frowned. “He’s in pain and keeps talking about a pickup and a post. He also asks for someone called Rob. He’s a real puzzle.”

  “Where is he?”

  The second cubicle. Dr. Markham is on the way in. See if you can persuade him to sign a consent.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Emma strode across the hall. She paused with her hand on the curtain. After gulping a breath, she slid the cloth aside. “Chad. Chad Morgan.”

  * * *

  From a distance, someone called his name. He knew that voice. He’d heard her speak on the nights when he was without a female companion. He struggled to grasp the memories sweeping through his head like leaves captured by a tornado. Again the voice called his name. He fought to open eyelids sealed by glue. In the dim light he saw her. As his eyes focused her face took form. Emma was here. Was this a dream? With the force of a raging stream, pain rose from his toes to flood his body. A low groan morphed into a sharp cry. Someone’s hand stroked his shoulder.

  “You were in an accident.” The voice, her voice, held a calm note of comfort.

  He sucked in a breath. Panic engulfed him. “My legs. I can’t move my legs.” He pressed his hands against the mattress and attempted to sit. He had to see his legs. The fear of being unable to walk or enjoy physical activities thundered in his head.

  “Calm down. Your legs are in splints to keep the bones in place. Both are fractured. A doctor is on the way. You need surgery.”

  “To amputate?” He grasped the sheet.

  “No. They’ll align the bones and apply casts. For the left, they may need to put in a plate and screws.”

  Relief rippled through him. “Emma, what are you doing here?”

  “You’re in Fern Lake. I live here.”

  Fern Lake. Why? Realization broke through the curtain of pain. He’d come to Fern Lake to see Rob about the movie. His memories jelled. A voice. An urge to turn. A pickup. The impact. His bumper. The concrete pillar. The disjointed scenes flashed like bits of dust and vanished.

  “Where is here?”

  “Fern Lake General.”

  Chad’s hands clenched as the level of pain soared. He couldn’t remember experiencing this degree of pain. The edges of his vision blurred. He clung to consciousness.

  A swishing sound. Chad clung to Emma’s hand. A man wearing green scrubs entered. “Mr. Greve, I’m Dr. Markham.”

  Chad frowned. Who did the doctor think he was?

  “Ian Greve,” Emma said. “Remember your travel identity.”

  Chad swallowed. He understood but a dilemma had arisen. He needed to keep his identity hidden but his insurance wouldn’t cover Ian Greve. He cleared his throat. “Grieve is my alias. I’m Chad Morgan. Is there a way to keep my identity a secret?”

  The doctor frowned. “We could let your assumed name remain on the admission list even though using your real name wouldn’t allow people to know anything more than you were a patient. There are rules to keep information from becoming public.”

  “You don’t know the hyenas. They just keep coming.” Chad released a held breath. “I’m sure they’ll learn I’m here.”

  “I can alert Security and have a no visitor’s warning in effect. Any exceptions?”

  Chad’s tense muscles uncoiled. “Rob Grantlan and Emma Grassi and anyone they vouch for.”

  “So noted.” Dr. Markham stood beside the bed. “Here�
��s the score. Fractured tibia and fibula both legs. The left is compound meaning bone piercing the skin. You were fortunate no major blood vessels were severed. You also have some spinal swelling from being bounced around a bit. A couple of bruises from the air bags. Yu may experience some numbness and tingling in your legs and feet. You’ll need to sign a consent so we can take you to the OR.”

  Chad closed his eyes. “Is there a chance of permanent damage?”

  “Maybe a residual limp. You’ll have traction on the left leg until the skin heals and we’re sure the bones are in place. Then a cast. You’ll be immobile for a month to six weeks. Maybe longer.”

  Chad’s hands clenched against the tsunami of pain washing through him. “Could…I…have…something…for pain.” He hated to ask for anything stronger than an analgesic but he feared the scream building inside would escape.

  “As soon as you sign the consent I’ll arrange for something.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before Dr. Markham returned a nurse arrived with the form and an injection. The doctor wasn’t far behind her and stood beside the bed. “Several questions.”

  The sharp edges of pain smoothed. Chad squeezed Emma’s hand. “Ask away.”

  “Allergies?”

  “None.”

  “Do you smoke?”

  “Not any more.”

  Drug and alcohol use?”

  “Drugs never,” Chad said. “Alcohol. Never more than one rum and cola. Sometimes I’ll have a beer or two.”

  “Good answers. We’re taking you to surgery in a few minutes. Security is aware of you situation.”

  “Thank you.”

  The doctor left. Emma released his hand. “Good luck.”

  He reached for her. “Don’t go. When I heard your voice, I thought I was dreaming. Stay until after the surgery. Call Rob for me.”

  “I can stay a bit and I’ll make the call.”

  “Someone waiting for you?” Husband, a significant other, a boyfriend? He hoped no one.

  She nodded. “My sister. After her divorce, Claire came home with her son to live with me.”