Silent Run

appeared to be her true story. Was it shame that had kept her quiet? Was it fear that he wouldn’t want her if he knew the truth? Was that why she’d turned herself into the woman he wanted her to be -- because she’d needed to fit in, to be accepted?
    She’d always worried about what his friends thought. The first time he’d taken her to dinner to meet some of his buddies, she’d been so nervous her hands had been shaking. He’d thought it was incredibly sexy at the time that she would care so much about making a good impression. He should have asked her why it was so important. Not that she would have told him the truth.
    If her past in foster care was her true reality, then she’d grown up alone, lonely. The lack of stability in her life had no doubt created her inner core of insecurity, of which he’d had a few glimpses.
    After Caitlyn was born, Sarah had told him that having a real family again was a dream come true. Yet she hadn’t married him. She’d put him off every time he asked -- why? Had she been afraid the danger would come back?
    He should probably be happy that she hadn’t married him. It would be one more legal tie to dissolve when this was all over. Not that a piece of paper made a difference. Having a child bound them together forever.
    As he considered the time they’d been together, he had to believe there were days, weeks, months, even, when she’d felt safe enough just to be with him. She’d laughed. She’d smiled. There had been times of pure joy. It hadn’t always been serious. However, there had also been guarded moments. Something must have changed. At some point something had occurred to upset the life they had. Sarah had no longer felt safe enough to be in their home, together. If he could put a name or names to the people who wanted to hurt Sarah now, maybe what she had done in the past would all make sense.
    Then what? Should he take her back?
    Could they find Caitlyn and pick up where they left off? How could he do that? It would be impossible to forget what had happened before. How could he ever trust her? How could he ever feel secure in the fact that she wouldn’t run again?
    One thing was for sure: The last thing he needed to do was complicate the situation even further -- which meant he had to keep his distance from Sarah. He had to stop looking at her, stop wanting her.
    She wasn’t the woman he’d loved. He needed to refocus on the deception, the betrayal, the anger, the emotions that had gotten him through the past months.
    But he had barely finished that thought when Sarah began to whimper and squirm on the bed. She was dreaming -- bad dreams.
    Her movements grew more agitated. Her fingers gripped the bedspread as she kicked out her feet at some unknown assailant. Was she remembering the past again? He didn’t know whether to wake her or not. At some point she had to face the demons that her brain wanted to hide from her. Was that point now? Should he let her battle it out?
    â€œNo,” she cried. “Please, no."
    The desperation and fear in Sarah’s voice touched a chord deep within him. He could no more look away or stand by without doing anything to help her than he could stop breathing.
    Within seconds he was on his feet, heading toward the bed -- knowing that every step was taking him closer to an action he shouldn’t take. He told himself he would just wake her up, put a hand on her shoulder, help her out of the nightmare. Then he would back away. He would return to the computer. It would be but a moment.
    â€œSarah.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.
    She knocked it away, as if he were trying to hurt her.
    â€œWake up,” he ordered.
    Her eyes flew open. She looked terrified, hunted, and she wasn’t seeing him, but someone else. “Don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.
    His heart stopped at the pure terror in her voice. He had to bring her back. This wasn’t the way to get her memories to return.
    â€œIt’s Jake, Sarah. You’re dreaming. It’s all right. You’re safe with me.” He sat down on the bed next to her. He gently pushed the sweaty strands of hair off her forehead. She’d really worked herself up.
    Her breath came quick and fast as recognition returned slowly to her eyes. “Jake,” she whispered, her soft lips gently parted.
    He stared at her mouth for a long time, unable to drag his gaze away. She ran