Wild Men of Alaska 03 - Dreamweaver

his neck. Didn’t he know it. “All right. Don’t wait up for me.”
    ***
    Lucky found Gemma pacing a path in her carpet, dressed again in another sweatshirt with Rink Rats and opposing hockey sticks on the front, sweats, wool socks, and an expression that could freeze geothermal hot springs.
    “Last time I’m calling you,” she hollered at the ceiling. “Get your ass down here, Dreamweaver!”
    “Call me Lucky.”
    She jerked and slowly turned toward his voice, muttering under her breath, “I’m not crazy. I am not crazy.”
    “You are not crazy, Gemma.”
    Her eyes traveled over him. “You’re really here?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why can I hear you but not see you?”
    “I don’t know. I’m not up on how all this works. Like you, I’m learning as we go.”
    “Why are you ... visiting me?”
    “For the reasons I told you last night.”
    “I was your future?”
    “Yes. My wife, my lover, my friend, and the mother of my children.” He heard the catch in his voice and tried to man up. He remembered her amusement with Cub about men being in touch with their feminine side. He got the feeling she preferred a man’s man. While he’d been light-hearted and full of Zen in his first life—he hadn’t felt that way in a long time—no way would he be caught watching Titanic again. Though he had to admit, Kathy Bates was the best thing about that movie.
    “Whoa. Wife? Mother?” She dragged her hands through her hair. “Seriously?”
    “We were to be introduced, but I didn’t make it back. If I had, that would have been it. As it is, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you.”
    “After you were already dead?” She backed up a step.
    “Yes.”
    “How? Who?” She shook her head, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she seemed less flustered. Not much less, but a tad.
    “Gemma, talk to Tern. Tell her my name is Lucky Leroy Morgan. She’ll fill in the rest.”
    “ What ? How would Tern know?”
    He lifted a hand and caressed the side of her face, glorifying in her response as she closed her eyes again and leaned into his touch. “I don’t have any more time, babe. Snow’s coming. Get some sleep.” He kissed her, trying his hardest to erase Cub’s touch from her mouth and memory.
    His spirit slowly disintegrated in her arms as the snow outside turned heavier, blocking out t he magnetic waves from the sun.

Chapter Nine

    Gemma didn’t care that it was after midnight. She called Tern. There was no way she was sleeping after what Lucky had told her.
    “’ello,” Tern mumbled into the phone.
    “His name is Lucky, and he said that you would explain everything. So. Explain. Oh God, you’ve got to explain all this to me. I know I’m not crazy. I know it . Mostly know it. Holy balls, Tern. Tell me!”
    “Gemma?”
    “Yes, of course it’s me. Who else would call you up in the middle of the freaking night ranting like a possessed woman?”
    “You’d be surprised,” Tern muttered. “Hold on, what did you say his name was?”
    “Lucky Leroy Morgan.”
    “Holy shit. I’ll be right there.”
    “Tern?” Gemma looked at the phone, and sure enough they were no longer connected. “Well, hell.” How was she going to wait out the time it took for Tern to get here? Gemma glanced out her window. Snow fell in fat flakes. Tern was roughly ten minutes away on a clear day. Maybe she should call her back and tell her not to come?
    The phone rang once before Tern answered, sounding much more awake than before. “I know it’s snowing. I’m still coming.”
    “Be careful then.”
    “Put on a pot of coffee. The ramifications of this... are huge.” She disconnected again.
    Gemma went back into her kitchen, cleaned up after her and Cub, and had the coffee ready by the time Tern pounded on her front door.
    When Gemma opened the door, Tern entered in a rush of snow flurries, wearing pajamas with cute little puffins on them. She shrugged out of the parka and toed off her snow boots.
    “I never pictured you for flannel,” Gemma said, pointing at Tern’s comfortable choice of sleepwear.
    “What did you think I slept in?”
    “Never really thought about it until now. But satin and lace, I guess, based on your fashion sense.”
    “Nobody sleeps in satin and lace. Besides, Gage is still gone. And I get cold at night without him.” Tern followed Gemma into the kitchen, taking a seat, and a fortifying sip of the coffee Gemma poured for her. “Now start from the top