Forever Faith

Ginger Simpson

Faith pushed herself up into a sitting position and rested against the headboard until she composed herself. If she smoked, this would be the perfect time for a cigarette. This dream had been the most fantastic yet! Her nameless beau had actually made love to her. She had no idea what she’d been missing. She exhaled through pursed lips and reveled in the moment.

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Forever Faith Forever Faith © 2008 by Ginger Simpson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

An Eternal Press Production Eternal Press 206 - 6059 Pandora St. Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada, V5B 1M4

To order additional copies of this book, contact: www. eternalpress.ca

Cover Art © 2008 by Dawné Dominique Edited by Lisa Logan Copyedited by Rose Vera Stepney Layout and Book Production by Ally Robertson eBook ISBN: 978-1-897559-33-8

First Edition * September 2008

Production by Eternal Press Printed in Canada and The United States of America.

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Ginger Simpson

Book Two of the Stages of Love Series Ginger Simpson

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Forever Faith

Also by Ginger Simpson

Chastity's Charms Sarah’s Journey Prairie Peace Paging Dr. Jones Virginia’s Miracle 5

Ginger Simpson

Dedication: I dedicate this book to women like me who have battled weight their entire life. They are the ones who will truly identify with my heroine.

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Forever Faith

Acknowledgements: I would be remiss if I failed to recognize Eternal Press for agreeing to re-release this story, formerly titled Red Sash. It will eventually be one of a four-part series to be published under one cover.

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Ginger Simpson

Faith Oliver rolled over and opened sleepy eyes to the light filtering through her floral bedroom draperies. She caressed areas of her throat where the sensation of warm kisses still lingered, watching dust motes dance in the sunbeams. As her sleepy haze cleared, she chided herself for believing anyone would kiss her neck. “Get real, Faith. It was only a dream.” Mornings were a severe disappointment. Tossing aside the sunflower comforter, she struggled to lift her corpulent self to the edge of the bed; her breathing grew rapid from the mere exertion. People kindly referred to women of her size as “full-figured”, but she preferred to see herself as a thin, sexy vixen trapped in layers of fat–unfair, ugly fat that she didn’t deserve. Someday she’d find a way to lose weight, and be the person she’d always dreamed of. Faith, nee Faith Marie Oliver, had been heavy for as long as she could remember. She still bemoaned the fact that she’d always been the last picked for teams in grammar school, felt out of place in junior high, and absolutely hated high school because she didn’t get invited to dances or school functions. She stared down at the chubby feet and ankles protruding from the hem of her nightgown. Boys hadn’t wanted anything to do with a fat girl, and even the other girls had shied away from her. Now, twenty-eight and a working woman with lots of female friends, she’d still never been on a real date. It wasn’t just high school boys who didn’t find overweight women desirable; it was men in general. Her idea to surround herself with other heavyweights in an effort to make herself feel better had failed. She’d outgrown all of them except Nila, her best bud who lived

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Forever Faith down the hall. They were neck and neck in the weight department—teetering around the two hundred-fifty pound mark. As an only child, Faith never knew her father. He died when she was an infant. She wondered about him often. Would he have accepted and loved her despite her weight? She’d had a great relationship with her mother, even though they’d struggled to get by on what little money Faith’s father had left behind. The two had shared some wonderful times; among them far too many rich, fattening meals. Just thoughts of food stirred her hunger and gave her an idea. Nila’s probably awake, getting ready for work. I’ll call her. Faith dialed her number. “Hullo,” a groggy voice answered. “Nil, it’s me. What are you doing tonight?” “God, how do I know? That’s hours away and I’m just barely awake. Why?” “I just thought you and I might grab a bite after work. I get so tired of eating alone. Besides, it’s been a long time since we’ve done anything fun.” “I might be persuaded. What’s on the menu?” Nila’s voice piqued with interest. Faith’s mind flashed to the dinner her mom had always prepared when Faith did something to warrant a reward. “I’d love chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, but I’ll settle for a salad.” The imaginary aroma of her favorite meal hung heavy in the air, sending loving memories washing over her. She longed to recapture those moments shared with her mother, but a brain aneurysm had cruelly taken Faith’s only remaining parent two years ago. Except for distant cousins, she was alone. When Nila agreed to dinner, Faith wished her a good day and hung up the phone. With difficulty, she spread up her bed, wondering why food was her comfort. Eating eased her grief. Any trauma sent her into a feeding frenzy, and she didn’t understand why. Her only other coping tool was laughter. Mostly phony, of course. She tended to hide behind humor to mask her pain. She’d always felt that if she was the first to make fun of her weight, then there was no need for anyone else to mention it. Her sense of humor was a front for depression. Lately, she’d found it hard to find laughter enough to stifle the pain of having no special man in her life…except when she slept and he came to her. She perched on the edge of the bed, catching her breath. For the past two weeks, her dreams had been disturbingly realistic. Each day she had awakened to feel her nameless lover’s hands still roaming her body, his lips paying homage to her most feminine parts. She forced a half-hearted chuckle to hide her disappointment and, with the aid of the nightstand, pulled herself to her feet. “For heaven’s sakes, Faith, be real,” she mumbled as she lumbered toward the bathroom. Her brow furrowed in thought as a name passed through her mind. Joshua. How strange. She didn’t know anyone by that name. She shook her head. “And probably never will.” Get ready for work and stop thinking about it. Disgusted, she glanced down at her body. “Besides, you live in a fantasy world. There’s no way that someone who looks like this dream guy, Joshua or whomever, is

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Ginger Simpson going to run his hand over all these rolls and layers. Hell, I don’t even like touching ‘em.” Living alone had led to having extended conversations with herself. Faith turned on the shower, waited a few seconds for it to warm, then avoiding any contact with her mirror, disrobed and stepped inside. The soothing liquid felt good against her chilled skin and she covered herself with a generous lather. She lifted her flabby abdomen and washed beneath it, grimacing all the while. This was the moment every day when she swore to lose weight, and today was no exception. While water drizzled down her face, visions of her dream wafted through her mind. It was the life she wanted more than anything. Stirred by the images, she delved a foamy finger into her slit and gently massaged until her body quivered with release. She stepped out of the shower, feeling unashamed of having taken care of her own sexual needs. Faith wrapped herself in a beach towel, skirting her reflection to return to the bedroom. She cursed her peripheral vision for catching a glimpse of dimpled behind. In her existence, she reserved looking glasses for when she was fully clothed and then she only focused on things within the scope of instant improvement such as her face and hair. Make-up and well-coiffed tresses made a difference, but her body was another story. She sifted through the clothes hanging in her closet and pondered how her method for gauging weight gain could be so off. She paused, grasping her wrist to make sure her thumb and forefinger still met and rolled her eyes when they did. Just her luck, she had skinny wrists and fat everything else. “Why in the heck do I even bother with pantyhose?” she complained as she dried her legs in preparation for them. Let’s see...some man decided a woman’s legs should be encased in something other than her own skin, and for this we spend countless mounds of money on things we only wear one time because yet another man made them so flimsy they only last for one wearing. For heaven’s sakes...they can make paint to withstand the heat of Earth’s reentry, but nylons can't outlast a hangnail? She stood and wiggled her way into her nylon cocoon, scowling at the words “queen-size” on the package she’d tossed on the bed. It wasn’t going to be a good day; she already sensed it. An overwhelming desire to crawl back beneath the covers beckoned her. Could she fall back to sleep and recapture those wonderful feelings? Why was her dream lover’s image so real, and why did the most intimate parts of her body pulse at the thoughts of him? Most of all, where did he come from...and why? The answer eluded her. She perched on the edge of the mattress and reflected on her make-believe world and the handsome man there who belonged only to her. With a sigh she forced the euphoric thoughts aside and turned to the need to earn a rent-paying wage. Work always trumped her romance card, but for just a moment she closed her eyes again and visualized her hero’s amazing pecs. Who is he? Reluctantly, reality returned. There was no man in love with her, no thin body, just

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Forever Faith the same fat Faith. She took her frustrations out on the pantyhose package, tearing it into shreds. “I’ve been dreaming about the same man for weeks now, and I can feel him even after I awaken. I still smell his musky odor. He does things…wonderful things. Queen-size, full-figure, plus-size, big, beautiful woman, pretty and plump...right! Who writes these descriptions?” She was still waiting to meet the man who listed any one of those terms in his ad for female companionship. Oh yes, she’d even been on the Internet checking out the dating scene, but even the ugliest men wanted “firm, fit and toned.” Really, Faith, you’re just fine the way you are. Skinny, fat or in-between, it’s the person who counts; not how they look. She wanted to believe that. Unfortunately, it appeared men didn’t. A grimace formed on her face at the thought of yet another diet. After hair and make-up, she still had time for a quick cup of coffee before leaving for work. She poured herself a cup and grabbed a muffin. With phone in hand, she dialed her friend’s number again. Nila was the one person with whom Faith could always commiserate, and if she didn’t talk to someone about her nightly escapades she was going to burst. One could only keep a secret for so long. She bit into the blueberry-filled cake while she waited for Nila to answer. It only took one ring. “Okay, Faith, this had better be important...calling twice in one morning. Let me guess...we aren’t going out because you got a date?” Nila snickered. “You’re a nut.” Nila was a card with a great sense of humor and Faith adored her. Even though their relationship had grown close, she had never dared ask Nila if she was as happy as she seemed. How could she be? In one gulp, Faith swallowed the rest of her muffin. “For a minute I thought you were psychic, but then I remembered caller ID.” “Even without it, I knew it was you. Who else calls me? So, what do you want?” Faith wasn’t quite sure how to phrase the real reason she had called “Uh... you’re probably going to think I’m a loon...” “I know you’re a loon. What’s up?” “Have you ever had dreams so vivid they seem real? I mean really real?” “Like what?” “Oh...anything. For example, did you ever dream about someone in particular? Say, someone you don’t know but swear they actually exist?” “Can’t say that I have. Why?” There was a moment of silence. “I’ve been dreaming about the same man for weeks now, and I can feel him even after I awaken I still smell his musky odor. He does things…wonderful things. “Okay, girl. What are you eating before you go to sleep?” “I’m serious. I...he...forget it.” Faith sighed. “You’re probably right. I need to stop snacking before bedtime. Too much red dye in my food. But...” “I’d love to talk more about it, Faith, but I have to run. I can’t be late to work. Let’s chat over dinner. I can hardly wait.”

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Ginger Simpson Faith hung up the phone, wishing she’d never called. Nila probably thought her friend had lost her mind. Even Faith was beginning to wonder if she really had. **** Faith took a break from editing, carefully marking her place in her currently assigned manuscript. Her job was to catch grammatical and punctuation errors for the publishing agency. It was difficult at best, and even more tedious when she found herself caught up in the story...like her current steamy romance, Taming of the Crew. It featured Leslie, a lusty college babe who set her sails for the captain of the school’s rowing team and screwed all his friends just to make him jealous. With a deep breath, Faith pushed the pages aside. Boy, that Leslie sure knows how to work her wiles on men. If only I could write steamy romances like that. She chuckled at the title, no doubt a takeoff on Taming of the Shrew, and wondered what she might write to fit the same genre. Based on her actual, non-existent sexual knowledge, she doubted anyone would be drawn to books with titles such as Catch Her in the Rye Crisp or Fat on a Hot Tin Roof. Writing should be left to those with imagination. Imagination? She had a terrific one. Look at the man she’d dreamed up. She made him erect just by envisioning him with a hard-on. Leslie probably couldn’t do that. Still, Faith doubted she could write anything as descriptive as the stories she reviewed daily, but living vicariously through romance heroines suddenly wasn’t enough. Faith slammed her fist on the desk. If she ever wanted to find a real, live lover she had to lose weight, and that made her angry. Physical appearances shouldn’t keep a man from finding out what a great woman she was. With newfound strength and determination, she pulled the phone book from the bookcase behind her desk and thumbed through the pages. Weight loss. See physicians. Crap, why can’t things be where you expect them? She scanned the headers above the doctors’ names and found the column she sought. There were so many names. How could she pick one? She closed her eyes and pointed. Dr. Eric Russ. “Probably as good as any of them,” she mumbled, preparing to dial. Glancing around, she made sure no one was in the near vicinity, then scoffed at the thought. It wasn’t like anyone noticed her. When had she grown so pessimistic? Her co-workers treated her just fine. It wasn’t their fault that most of society frowned on overweight people. But was it her fault? Still, trying to be optimistic, she pictured what she might say when the pounds began to melt away. “Dieting? Me?” Faith put her hand to her throat like a drama queen, then adopting a voice from Gone with the Wind, purred, “I have no idea how it happened. I just woke up and...” “Me, with a southern drawl? How ridiculous!” She rolled her eyes for talking to herself again. “Medical offices, how may I help you?” The answering voice on the other end of the

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Forever Faith telephone interrupted her role-playing. Yeah, I just woke up and realized it’s time to quit feeling sorry for myself. “I’d like to make an appointment.” **** “Damn diet,” Faith muttered through clenched teeth. She stood in front of the mirror to survey the results of the past three weeks. “Why aren’t you working faster?” From the back of her mind came a gentle reminder. You didn’t put the weight on overnight. Be patient. But she was tired of waiting. She’d just come from the doctor’s office and, although the scales showed a loss of almost twenty pounds, she couldn’t find it missing anywhere. Every day was a battle against her old eating habits, but for the first time in her life she managed to stick to her objective. She knew she was serious when she’d passed on an invitation to a pizza and beer birthday party after work. Then again, maybe that decision had rested on the fact that she’d much rather hurry home to bed to be with her mystery man. No matter how hard she’d tried, even during the most intimate of moments she couldn’t establish his identity. He was only contrived, she knew, but as long as he hung around, he was the driving impetus for losing weight. Real or not, she enjoyed the fantasy, though she wondered if the dreams would continue if he ever saw the real her. Either way, one day they would end, and she’d be alone again. A strange feeling of dread welled in the pit of her stomach over the thought of losing someone she didn’t even know. Was she going crazy? For a moment, the old feeling of defeat baited her, and she started to the kitchen for a snack. She stopped short. No way, Faith! You aren’t going to sabotage yourself again. This is for real. Just picture your hunk’s rock-hard abs and those baby blues...and he only has eyes for you. At least for now. She finished dressing with a smile. Her clothes did feel a little looser, and that was a start. **** When Faith stepped off the scales, the nurse congratulated her. “Wow, that’s great! Fifty pounds and in just a little more than three months. It won’t be long before you’ll make your goal.” A smile blossomed on Faith’s face. “I know. My boyfriend is so pleased. You should meet him. He’s so handsome.” She couldn’t believe she’d just lied to the nurse. Even if he existed only in dreams, he seemed so real. Thankfully, the woman didn’t press for details. The grin was fixed on her face when she hurried back to work. Fifty pounds! And she finally saw the results of her efforts. She’d bought new clothes and even had her

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Ginger Simpson brown hair shortened and blonde highlights added. The reception she’d received from her co-workers–the people she thought never noticed her–had been a pleasant shock. Their frequent compliments kept her determined to continue her diet. Besides, her virile night visitor was a constant source of motivation, and she adored his visits. He even made giving up her favorite chocolate shakes worth the sacrifice. She pulled a manuscript from the stack on her desk and buried herself in a new romance. For a change, she felt like she had something in common with the heroine. **** Faith woke with lips feeling bruised from passionate kisses, breathing in quick gasps after a bout of voracious sex. Until last night, her dream lover had only touched and kissed her. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at his penis before. She was awed by the size of it. If that was a weapon, the man was heavily armed. Faith pushed herself up into a sitting position and rested against the headboard until she composed herself. If she smoked, this would be the perfect time for a cigarette. This dream had been the most fantastic yet! Her nameless beau had actually made love to her. She had no idea what she’d been missing. She exhaled through pursed lips and reveled in the moment. Her nipples were still pebbled beneath her nightshirt, from something other than cold air for a change. Warm and moist, her vagina still contracted from the thickness of his penis, and her whole body quivered in delight. She pinched herself to make sure she was awake. Is this what the afterglow of intercourse feels like? She had nothing to compare it with except, perhaps, locking her lips around a straw in a thick chocolate shake. Last night, she discovered something much better. With a smile, she licked her lips and swore they bore a faint taste of something salty. Maybe she did need professional help. For months now this fantasy affair had continued, and she still had no explanation for it. God help her, she was in love with someone who existed only in her dreams. There was a familiarity about him, something comforting, but each time she came close to discovering his identity, she awoke. How could she figure it out? Maybe hypnosis? What did she have to lose? She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, and scolded herself for lolly gagging. From the bed to the shower, the dream replayed over in her mind. Her fingers traveled across a man’s broad shoulders and down his muscular back, her palms cupped his taut behind to pull him closer and take in every inch of his throbbing manhood. He was real...he had to be. How could a mere vision instill these feelings? She pictured his head between her legs, darting tongue suckling the core of her being. Her heart beat erratically. I’m too young to have a heart attack...aren’t I? Maybe this was what love did to a person. But whom did she love? She ducked her head beneath the faucet, hoping the water would wash the sensuous

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Forever Faith images and unanswered questions from her mind. **** Faith turned the Yellow Pages, searching for hypnotherapists. She’d done research on the Internet and discovered episodes similar to her dreams...caused by repressed memories. The bond between her and her dream lover was strong. His attentive nature and adoring looks made her believe in his love, believe in her special connection to him. Could it be the way he made her climax? She believed she could achieve multiorgasms, if only the dreams lasted longer. Nila listened to Faith’s mad ravings about the strange connection, but offered no explanation. Faith wasn’t sure whether or not her friend even believed her, but it didn’t matter. Most likely, Nila thought Faith delusional. In fact, she'd been the one to jokingly suggest hypnosis as an option. With a large sigh, Faith dialed the digits and made an appointment. **** A week later, Faith sat in the waiting room of Dr. Fredrick’s office, stomach churning with apprehension. Had anyone suggested she would be here, seeking a glimpse into her past, she would have called them mad. She wrung her hands and sat straighter in the uncomfortable chair to ease knots of tension in her shoulders. The opening door startled her, and she jumped. “Ms. Oliver?” Faith’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes were as blue as a bottomless pool; dark, wavy locks framed a smooth and tanned face. That face. She shuddered. It can’t be! Get a grip, Faith. You have truly crossed the line into idiocy. Lately, it seemed that every man she saw was a clone of her mystery lover. She stood on wobbly legs and smiled. “I’m Faith Oliver.” “Come with me, please.” The deep timbre to his voice gave her goosebumps. She followed him, her eyes locking first on his muscled shoulders, then down to equally firm ass and thighs. Her panties grew damp. Could she possibly be lusting after her own therapist? As they reached his office, she got a case of nervous jitters. She hesitated outside the open door, took a deep breath, and entered. The shades were drawn. A small lamp on a corner table and the calm beige coating the walls created a relaxing ambiance. The doctor’s desk was littered with files, so many that the mahogany finish was barely visible. A comfortable looking chaise and his large chair were the only other furnishings. Serene paintings of seascapes and period art decorated the walls. One in particular caught her eye–a southern couple dressed in their finest. She walked closer to admire the handsome pair—he in a pristine uniform, complete with a bright red sash, and his partner in a lovely ball gown. The woman coyly held an

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Ginger Simpson open fan just below her chin. A small bronze plaque at the frame’s bottom identified the painting as Emancipation Ball by Fredrick Dumas. Something about the painting struck a familiar cord in her. Faith’s attention to the portrait was drawn away by the doctor’s voice. “Please, have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable. I’m going to ask you a few questions before we get started.” His attitude was purely professional. Why did she feel disappointed? Wondering yet again why she was here, Faith plastered a smile on her face and forced herself to sit as instructed. She swiveled and stretched out on the suede fabric, trying to relax while wondering what it would be like if he came and lay down next to her. The doctor pulled his leather chair closer, sat and crossed his long legs. His ankle rested atop the opposite knee. “So, what answers are you looking for today?” The bulge in his pants was distracting. Faith knew from the flush she felt creeping up her neck that her face was probably red. She searched her mind for a proper response. How did she explain everything without him bringing in a straight jacket? “I’ve been having...dreams.” Her voice quivered as she spoke. “Strange dreams, and I need to understand them.” “Tell me about them,” he urged, his pen poised over the tablet resting on his leg. She took a calming breath. “Well, they started months ago. Every night the same man comes to me and...” “Go on, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about anything you tell me. Everything is confidential.” Confidential, maybe, but what if he declared her certifiably mad? She started again. “He makes love to me like he knows me and expects me to recognize him, but I don’t. We don’t talk, but what we do feels completely normal. How can it be, when I don’t even know his name?” “Does he know yours?” “I don’t know. He’s never spoken to me. It’s as if our thoughts need no words, our love no explanations. Am I crazy?” “Highly doubtful. Our dreams usually have meaning.” He raised his pen and scratched a spot on his brow. “Let’s continue. Is there anything about him that stands out in your mind?” She stifled a giggle. Should I ask whether ample endowment counts? “Not really. It took several nights for me to even notice his face...” She forced a sober voice. “And...? It’s all right. Please go on.” “You bear a striking resemblance to him,” she blurted out. “Now you probably really think I’m ready for the loony bin.” He chuckled. “There are a great many people who share similar looks. I see nothing strange about that.” She breathed a sigh of relief and finally relaxed against the back of the chaise.

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Forever Faith “You’re right. I was just a little shocked when you first opened the door.” Faith related as much of her dreams as she could recall until the doctor glanced at his watch. “Since we only have a short time left today, I’m going to give you some homework, so to speak.” Faith pushed a stray lock of hair from her face and smiled at him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that.” “This won’t be time-consuming,” he said with a smile. “What I want you to do is keep a journal next to your bed and upon awakening, write down absolutely everything you recall about your dreams. I’ll see you next week, so you should have compiled at least some information that will be helpful when I put you under.” She smiled. “Put me under? As in using a knife?” His charming grin revealed a slight dimple. “Under hypnosis.” His allure caused a quick chill to pass over her, and she silently damned the light for sparkling in his blue eyes. She had come here worried about repressed memories, now the term “transference of affection” seemed a possible side effect. **** She hung up the phone after telling Nila she wasn’t interested in going to a costume ball. It just didn’t sound appealing. What kind of dance was fun without a date? At least in bed, Faith had one. She was stunned that Nila even considered attending. She was a quiet person. Before the two had met in their shared apartment building, she’d pretty much been a loner, but then so had Faith. It was nice to have a confidante—they understood each other. The disappointment in her friend’s voice still rang in her ears. She felt guilty knowing that Nila didn’t have anyone else to invite. Faith sighed. Nila would probably go if Faith had been the one asking. A break from the strange dreams that ruled her nights and the memories that occupied her waking hours might be what she needed, especially after her first meeting with Dr. Fredrick. Now her mind wavered from a nameless lover to her handsome therapist. Two men in her life and neither were within her grasp. She’d call Nila in the morning and tell her she’d go to the stupid ball. Faith glanced at the tablet on her nightstand and snuggled down beneath the covers. The doctor had been right. Keeping tabs of her dreams was creating quite a hefty log. She reached over to turn off the lamp, and issued herself a reminder. Pay attention to his features. Try to talk to him...find out his name. She rolled over and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Get a hold of yourself, girl.” Planning what to say in her dreams? She really needed to get out and get a life. Maybe the costume ball wasn’t such a bad idea after all. ****

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Ginger Simpson Faith faced getting ready for the ball that Friday night. Nila followed Faith into the bedroom, where an assortment of old-fashioned lingerie lay on the bed. Faith rolled her eyes. “How in the world did women tolerate wearing all this stuff? Thank goodness all I have to complain about on a daily basis is pantyhose. After seeing all this, they don’t seem quite so awful.” She first put on the knee-length chemise that covered her torso. Next were pantaloons. Afterwards, she donned a camisole and found herself struggling with the small, fastening eyelets. “Geez Louise, I need smaller fingers to get hold of these things. I guess long fingernails don’t help.” Faith inspected the corset, holding it in the air by two fingers. “Ok. How the heck does this thing work?” Nila nabbed it and wrapped the binding garment around her friend’s waist and began tugging. “This is how. Take a deep breath so I can tighten these laces.” Faith took in a huge breath of air and held it until she was sure her face was blue. “Hurry up, before I faint.” “There,” Nila finished and stepped back. “My God, your waist looks so tiny.” Faith emptied her lungs in relief, and breathlessly muttered. “It should. I felt like you were squeezing me to death.” “Yeah? Well how come I’m the one who’s huffing and puffing? I’m going home to change while I still have the strength.” Poor woman! It hadn’t been long ago that Faith had been in the same shape. Now, here she was trussed up and questioning why she subjected herself to yet more torture. She swiveled from side to side to ease the pinch, hoping the corset laces would eventually work their way loose. The boned hoop she stepped into next was the final undergarment. With it tied in place to support the full skirt of her gown, she dropped the intricately designed dress over her head: an emerald-green silk with a low-cut bodice. The gown featured her best assets, and certainly her shrunken waist made her breasts appear even larger. Velvet ribbons of lighter green rimmed each cap sleeve and formed a delicate bow, while her shortened tresses had grown enough to be pulled back and captured in a matching, crocheted snood. Who would have thought that something as quaint as a hairnet could look so fetching? The contrasting colors of the outfit were perfect, complimenting her complexion and hair. Faith held up her skirt and did a pirouette before the mirror, checking out her fancy garb. How lucky she was to have found something so awesome on short notice. She stared at her image. With perfect jewels adorning her earlobes and a small cameo dangling from the thin strand of emerald ribbon circling her neck, she looked the part of a genuine southern belle. It was wonderful to wear a bright color for a change. Black might be slimming, but it got old really fast...not to mention it was a lint magnet. Was this really her in the mirror? Some people might think sixteen a terrible size, but it sure looked good to her. She felt

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Forever Faith perhaps she should have been born in the Civil War era. Strangely, the name “Joshua” flashed through her mind again. Stop already! I don’t know anyone named Joshua. She chewed her bottom lip. Had she read about him in a manuscript? When there were no ringing bells, she made a note in her journal. Almost time to go. She rushed into the bathroom to dab some perfume behind her ears and on that tiny spot in the hollow of her neck where, just below the skin, her pulse fluttered. As special as she felt, she still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this costume ball—a single’s dance, at that. Was she that desperate? This might be the perfect opportunity to meet someone, a real man. Look at it as your debut into society. She reached for the aerosol can and sprayed her hair one last time, then applied a little more blush. Excitement set in. This was her first social outing in a long time and she was going to force herself to have a good time. Maybe someone would ask her to dance. Tonight might be the start of something good. As a final touch, she pulled on her delicate, lace gloves and went to meet Nila. When they met in the hallway, Faith noticed the look of envy in Nila’s eyes. She fingered the fine fabric of Faith’s dress. “Wow, you look beautiful, and so...thin.” “I guess all that food I’ve passed on has paid off.” Maybe after tonight she could convince her friend to try her doctor, with his shots and food plan. They had certainly worked for her. Faith thought better of it when she remembered how long it took for her to get serious about dieting. Nila would do it when the time felt right, and she’d do it for herself and no one else. **** Only a handful of costume-clad people were in the festive ballroom when Nila and Faith arrived. They paused in the entryway to admire the balloon bouquets and bright crepe paper decorations. The ride there had been an adventure. “Now I know why women who wore these hoop skirts rode in wagons.” Faith complained. “I can hardly wait to cram myself back in the car again. It’s a wonder you could see to drive.” Nila rolled her eyes. Faith scoured the area and pointed to a ringside table. “Let’s sit there. It’s right on the dance floor and guys are bound to see us.” “Boy, talk about mood swings.” Nila rolled her eyes. “First you didn’t want to come, then you complained about how you got here, and now you’re plotting how to be more visible.” Faith pulled out her chair and sat. “Well, if I’m here, I may as well make the best of it. Besides, I’ve lost all this weight, spent tons of money on this outfit, and I’m anxious to see if it was worth it. By the way, Nila, you make a great looking butler.” “Thanks. If I’d given this a little more thought, I guess I could have come as Rhett

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Ginger Simpson Butler.” Nila’s snicker was contagious. Faith couldn’t resist. “Frankly, dahling, I don’t give a damn. I just hope no one thinks you’re my date.” Their levity ended when the DJ announced the first song of the evening. Faith sat straighter in her chair, crossed her ankles and tried to relax. It wasn’t easy in a pinching corset. Despite her best attempt to quell her growing apprehension, her palms grew wet inside her gloves. She removed them and discreetly blotted the offending perspiration on her skirt while slyly inspecting the growing number of costumed men, wondering who might approach and ask her to dance. The room felt overly warm and Faith removed a hand-painted fan from her rented reticule. With a flick of her wrist, she splayed the pleated paper and cooled her face. The rapid movement blurred the artwork into a glorious array of colors that drew Faith into a mindless gaze. Dr. Fredrick’s portrait flashed through her mind, the amazing similarity to the events in her life mind-boggling. Suddenly, she wore the same type of clothing and carried a fan. She snapped it closed and tucked it away. Too eerie. It’s just a coincidence. Although at first only a few bedecked couples took to the dance floor, more people paired up, leaving barely enough room to move before long. Faith heaved a loud sigh and turned to her friend. “We may as well get a drink. If we wait for someone to buy us one, we could die of thirst.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle, but felt the same old disappointment creep in and ruin things. Where was the new-found popularity she’d counted on? The song ended, another started, and Faith silently prayed that at least one man would ask her to dance. The binding corset pinched her. While she fidgeted in her chair, she wondered why Nila never seemed discouraged over the lack of male attention. Faith watched her friend scan the room, watching everyone and acting like she was having the time of her life. All Faith could do was make excuses for her own insecurities. Maybe if her dad had lived, she wouldn’t crave a man’s attention in her life, or perhaps she just needed to be thinner. What she really needed was to get laid. **** Faith sucked the last of her drink through the cocktail straw and leaned on her elbow. How could she have felt so happy at the beginning of the evening and so miserable now? Not one man, even the bowlegged pirate who almost tripped over her foot, had asked her to dance. Why had she spent so much time and effort on losing weight? She was still invisible. Any hope of connecting with someone was dashed when the band announced another “take ten.”

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Forever Faith She’d run out of small talk during the last break and sat quietly, toying with her empty glass. Nila’s peeved look was a clue that the resulting clinking noise was annoying. “Sorry,” Faith said through clenched teeth, then innocently folded her hands in her lap. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Ready to go? I’ve had all the fun I can stand for one night.” Her friend sighed and furrowed a brow at Faith. “I guess. But didn’t you have any fun at all? Wasn’t it at least better than staying home watching TV? I enjoyed the music. Didn’t you?” Faith stood and picked up her handbag. “Yeah, the music was dee-vine,” she said sarcastically. “I just want to go home.” At least in her dreams, someone cared about her. It was her, wasn’t it? **** Faith pulled the hooped petticoat from beneath her gown. “It doesn’t matter if you lost weight,” she ranted. “You’re still a fat pig and no one wants anything to do with you. No one! All you have is your imaginary lover and he only screws you because you dream yourself into a skinny bitch.” She wrestled to remove her dress then shed the God-awful corset, leaving her clad only in the barest of undergarments. With a deep breath, she tossed the discarded clothing onto the foot of the bed and sat replaying the evening in her mind. It certainly hadn’t been what she expected, but then, life never had. Losing weight was supposed to make a difference, not disappoint her, but it didn’t give her reason to be rude. Faith just didn’t understand what had come over her of late. She’d call Nila tomorrow and apologize. She shuffled into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and scanned the shelves. The pickings were slim since she had been sticking to her diet. Something good, rich and fattening, sounded good, but what? A chocolate shake! She grabbed the milk and headed for the cupboard to get the cocoa. There wasn’t ice cream, but she could add a banana and whatever else she found that sounded appealing. Suddenly, she caught her reflection in the glass oven door across the room, and paused. With a large sigh, she placed the chocolate back in the cupboard and put away the milk. Just go to bed, Faith. Don’t give up on yourself...even if everyone else has. Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she went back into the bedroom. She’d expected so much more from the evening. Silent tears turned to sobs and she collapsed onto the bed, curling herself into a ball. Her fingers clutched the pillowcase tightly as months of pent-up frustration found release. She vowed to overcome the emptiness in her soul and find a way to be complete without a man in her life—not even a make-believe one.

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Ginger Simpson I won’t give up. There has to be a way to feel good about myself. As her crying ebbed and an exhaustive sleep claimed her, she silently prayed for no more dreams, even if it meant giving up incredible sex. What she once enjoyed now gave her more reasons to doubt herself. **** Faith arranged to take Thursday off for her appointment. As she sat in the waiting room clutching her journal, she puzzled over the fact that her dream man hadn’t visited once since the costume ball. Could her prayers have been answered? She remembered the saying, “Be careful what you ask for.” Was this really what she wanted? At least in her boring life, he had created excitement and eased her sexual tension. Something was terribly lacking without his loving attentiveness. Finally, the therapist summoned her. Once again Faith followed Dr. Fredrick into his office, and took her place on the chaise lounge. She tried to focus on the reason she was here and not on his appealing attributes. She offered him her diary. “Here’s everything I could remember. He hasn’t come to me in several days, so I tried to put things down from memory. It’s...a little embarrassing.” “No need. We all have sexual thoughts and needs.” He studied her notes for a moment, then glanced up at her, “Ms. Oliver...” “Could you please call me Faith? I’d feel a little less like my mother.” “Okay, Faith...I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice. As I begin to count backwards from ten, you’re going to feel so relaxed you won’t be able to open your eyes at all...ten...your limbs are growing heavy, relaxed and wanting to sink into the fabric beneath you...nine...like a candle in the sunlight, you’re melting into a pool of relaxation...eight...you hear everything I say, and you will remember...seven...nothing I say or anything you see will frighten you. You are safe and nothing can hurt you...six...you are so sleepy, sleepy, sleep...five...sleep...four...deeper in sleep...three, two, one...deep, deep asleep.” Faith crinkled her brow in an effort to open her eyes, but it was no use. Her lids were leaden, and every other part of her body felt like an unraveling garden hose. Never had she felt so relaxed–and against her will, at that. She had been so sure she couldn’t be hypnotized, but Dr. Fredrick’s voice, deep and soothing, invaded her total serenity and guided her to a void in time. “Okay, Faith. Now we’re going to travel backwards.” His tone was melodic and his instructions easily followed. “You’re no longer in 2004. I want you to visualize the years as we pass rapidly through them–2003, 2002, 2001...tell me what’s happening.” Tears dampened Faith’s cheeks, but she couldn’t lift a hand to brush them away. “She’s dead…my mother is gone. Now I have no one.” Panic added a quiver to Faith’s

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Forever Faith shaken voice when she asked, “What am I going to do?” “You’ll be fine, and it’s okay to mourn her loss. She was wonderful to you and you loved her very much. How are you dealing with her death? What brings you comfort? You can move your arms now, Faith.” “I’m eating. I don’t have anything but food anymore. It reminds me of her. I’m not hungry, but I eat because I can. Don’t die, Mom. Come back to me.” Faith reached out to pull her mother back. “Faith, the pain is fading, fading, gone. Now we’re going back further, back, back, back to 1986. You’re around ten now. Tell me what you see.” Faith felt a smile blossom on her lips, and she gave a happy sigh. “Momma, I see my momma.” “What’s your momma doing, Faith?” With a childlike giggle, she clapped her hands and answered, “She’s making my favorite dinner. I got a good report card, and she’s so proud of me.” “That’s wonderful, Faith. Do you like those rewards?” “Oh...yes! I love Momma’s cooking. She says we can’t afford to go to the movies or to the zoo, but she always fixes me good food. Momma works, you know, and I have to stay by myself now that I’m a big girl. I can’t let anyone in, Momma says, but when she comes home and we’re together, we share our time over her good dinners...and we laugh and I’m not lonely anymore.” “You must be a very good girl, Faith. I’m sure your mother loves you. Now I want you to follow my voice and we’re going to move on.” “No,” Faith cried, with little girl snuffles shaking her body. “I want to stay with my momma.” “It’s okay Faith, I promise. You’ll always hold your mother in your heart, but let’s move on. No more tears; don’t be scared, just listen to what I say.” The calmness of his voice soothed Faith, and within moments the heartache subsided and inner peace returned. “Come with me Faith, let’s go back…back, back beyond the time you remember…back beyond birth, beyond conception, to a life you had before you were Faith Oliver. Return to a time you’re no longer held by the memories of the life you know at this moment. Release those memories. Search your mind for new ones.” Shrouded by darkness, Faith strained to see. There, in the far distance, a speck of white beckoned and she approached. Nearer, the light brightened and she could see once again. Her mouth gaped in awe of the scenery, and, in her hypnotic state, she turned fullcircle to survey the splendor surrounding her, then held her breath at the beauty. Before her stood a large colonial mansion—a place she’d only seen in pictures. Tall columns created a marvelous entrance to the majestic front doors and lent support to an outside balcony. She craned her neck to look at the intricate carvings on the snowycolored pillars, and felt dwarfed by the awesome architecture. In the air, the smell of honeysuckle hung heavily and pervaded her nostrils. “Ohhhh,” was all she could utter. “What, Faith? Share it with me. Tell me what you see.”

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Ginger Simpson “It’s beautiful. The house is so big. It’s white, with columns in front. There are wicker chairs on the front porch and above, a full-length balcony.” “What else, Faith? Look around you.” “Land, lots of land…green and rich. Oh, my goodness! There’s a huge Weeping Willow in the front of the house. I love Weeping Willows. They’re so elegant.” “Is there more, Faith?” “Oh, it’s all so beautiful.” She sighed before continuing. “Beyond the house there’s a barn and, in the corral next to it, a lot of horses.” Dr. Fredrick probed further. “Do you see people?” “No, there’s no one here but me. Oh, wait! Out in the fields, I do see people. They appear to be working, but I can’t see them clearly.” She squinted. “I think they’re all black.” “Do you mean black people or surrounded by black, Faith?” “Black people...Negroes.” “Anyone else?” “The front door...it’s opening. Someone is coming out onto the porch. My, she’s so pretty and...” “Tell me about her, Faith. What’s she wearing?” Faith felt as though she knew the woman, and smiled. “She has on a long red gingham dress with a very full skirt. My goodness, her waist is so tiny...her hair is golden, and piled atop her head with a few loose ringlets.” Faith paused and crinkled her brow. “Does your head hurt, Faith?” “No, the sun is very bright.” “Oh, of course. What’s happening now?” “She’s shading her eyes with her hand, like she’s searching for someone.” Faith gasped. “She’s looking at me.” There was an assuring pat on her arm. “It’s okay, Faith. She won’t hurt you.” “Maddy?” Confusion clouded Faith’s voice. “She’s motioning to me and calling me, Maddy?” Dr. Fredrick’s announcement sliced through the momentary silence. “Okay, Faith. You’ve traveled enough for today. Let’s bring you back to the present. I want you to follow my voice and come back with me. As I count to ten, the years are going to whiz past until you’re here and awake. Ten...” The light began to fade. “Nine, eight, seven…you have nothing to fear as you come back, back, all the way...” The mansion vanished and the world blurred. She was momentarily seized by an unexplainable sadness. “Six...You will remember everything you’ve seen...five, four, three, two, awake!” Faith slowly opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the office’s muted light. Too stunned to say anything, she looked to the doctor for an explanation. He smiled at her. “I know you’re a bit confused, but we don’t have time to cover everything today. We’ll meet again next week and discuss what you just experienced

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Forever Faith and see if we can go back and pick up where we left off.” “But...” “I know you want to talk about it now, but I have another patient waiting. If your dreams resume, I want you to log them and anything else you might think of that you want to discuss.” Faith felt frustrated, but acquiesced. “I understand. Maybe it’s just as well. I’m suddenly very tired.” The doctor stood and opened the door. “You’ve had quite an adventure today. Go home, get some rest and I’ll see you soon.” **** Faith thrashed about in her bed. “Oh, don’t stop,” she muttered breathlessly. In the dream, her body was pinned against the wall by his and his mouth traveled the length of her arched neck, leaving butterfly kisses in the wake. He whispered words of love only she could hear. Half asleep and half awake, Faith tossed and turned, fighting the belief that it wasn’t his hands roaming from her thighs, to her hips, then past her waist to cup the sides of her ample breasts...to push them together, then bury his face in her cleavage. Her fingers ached to splay through his wavy hair and offer him a swollen nipple, but she feared she wouldn’t be able to feel him; that the dream would end here. After all, hadn’t she prayed he wouldn’t return? She hadn’t meant it. His imaginary caresses ignited her deepest passion and she wanted more but feared to open her eyes lest he disappear. In frustration and ecstasy, she balled her fists and endured the stinging pain of her nails digging into her palms. The noticeable comfort of her mattress seemed to have turned to stone like the wall against which she stood in the dream. Lost in the throes of passion, her lids fluttered open to behold her lover. Her vision rested first on the emerald gown she wore, then drifted to his attire. How strange? In all other dreams they had already shed their clothing. She wrestled with reality. Had she not taken off her costume? The trailing lips on her throat stirred feelings that she couldn’t fight. She relented and ran her hands along the back of his jacket, caressing his rigid muscles through the satiny fabric. He felt so real. “What’s your name?” she whispered. “Tell me your name.” He stood away from her for a moment and looked adoringly into her eyes. He wore a uniform and, beneath the familiar jacket, his unbuttoned dress shirt was open to the red sash around his waist. She ached to touch the familiar matting of dark hair on his tanned chest. He didn’t respond to her question, and she asked again. “Please, tell me.” The sound of her morning alarm sliced through her dream and drove her lover back into the shadows. She woke, still whispering, “Your name, tell me...” In a groggy haze, she reached out and slapped the push-button to stop the piercing

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Ginger Simpson sound. Oh why now? I was just about to find out who he is. She forced herself to get up and stagger into the bathroom. As she sat on the toilet, she buried her face in her hands and tried hard to recapture parts of the dream she might have missed. Where were we? What year was it? She couldn’t remember. The only thing clear in her mind was his face and uniform, southern she thought, but where had she seen it? Suddenly, she recalled the portrait in the doctor’s office, especially the red sash. Her dream lover was really from another time. She flushed and turned on the shower. While waiting for the water to warm, she planned her day. As soon as she got to work, she’d surf the net for information on Civil War uniforms. **** The search engine brought up more information than she could possibly scan in a lifetime. She had no idea where to begin, and clicked on the first link. An array of modern-day army, navy, marine and air force attire filled the computer screen. She shook her head, and clicked on a new site—Civil War Uniforms. She scanned the screen, perusing the dark blue of the northern states, from infantry to cavalry to officer. Using the down arrow, she found the confederate uniforms. The color was right, but the style was wrong. She scrolled further until her eyes rested on the exact jacket; an officer’s jacket. The chart alongside the screen displayed the different colored sashes–red for lieutenant. A Confederate officer. Thoughts spun through her mind like a spider weaving all the lose ends of its web together. Lifting her gaze from the screen, she stared blankly at the wall. Is that why I was drawn to the dress in the costume shop? Do I know him? I feel like I do. She flashed back to the Civil War era portrait. There were just too many coincidences, and far too few explanations. Lost in thought, Faith jumped when her boss poked her head in the door and asked, “Are you finished editing Only in Dreams?” Embarrassed to be caught without evidence that she had even been working, Faith shuffled through the papers on her desk. “I...I’m almost finished,” she stuttered. “I should have it done today.” With a nod he walked away, leaving Faith stunned that she actually lied to her boss. If Faith wanted to meet her self-imposed deadline, she had to get moving. All her personal questions would have to wait until she finished her current project. She pulled out the manuscript and eyed the title. Only in Dreams. How apropos! **** She hurried from work straight to Dr. Fredrick’s office. Faith couldn’t wait to tell him about her latest revelation. She’d noted as much as she could in her journal, but she had too many questions in her mind to write everything down. When her name was called,

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Forever Faith she almost beat the doctor down the hall in her quest to get to the couch and her travel back in time. The excited pounding of her heart echoed in her ears; it was so loud it almost drowned out the doctor’s voice. “So, Faith, how have things been going for you?” She thrust her journal at him. “You won’t believe it, Doctor Fredrick...He came back, and this time...” At a loss for words, and embarrassed to confess, she paused for a moment. “There’s no other way to say this...this time he had clothes on, and so did I.” Before the doctor said a word, Faith babbled on. “I had on a ball gown and he, a uniform...just like the one in your picture.” She pointed at the wall where it hung. “I did some research at work...” “My goodness, Faith, slow down. Take a breath and relax a minute.” She inhaled deeply and willed herself to do just that. Her mind raced and she just had to tell him everything while it was so fresh in her mind. She nodded at him. “Sorry, I’m just so excited.” “I understand. So, continue.” “When I got to work, I did a web search for uniforms and found one that looked exactly like the one he wore. It’s the garb of a Confederate lieutenant.” “Did you find out a name this time?” “No, darn it! The alarm went off just as I asked him.” “Well, let’s see if we can find out something today that might answer some of these questions. Get comfortable, and let’s begin.” Faith adjusted her position so that her head rested comfortably against the back of the chaise. She took another deep, cleansing breath and waited. “Okay, Faith. Listen to my voice,” the doctor began. “Your body is relaxing into a pool of liquid. From the count of ten...feel the heaviness of your arms and legs and let your mind drift back...back in time. Nine, eight, seven...the scenery around you is blurred as you move back...far back to where we left off. When I get to one you will be standing in the yard...six...you see the weeping willow...five, four, three, two, one.” Everything was as she remembered...the majesty of the house, the lush grounds, the honeysuckle hanging heavy in the air. It was as though she hadn’t moved a step. “Maddy, there you are,” the blonde woman on the porch addressed Faith. “Where have you been? You’d best get in here and get yourself cleaned up for the ball. Joshua will soon be here to escort you.” Dr. Fredrick’s voice intruded on the moment. “Faith, tell me what’s happening. I see a look of confusion on your face.” “She’s calling me Maddy. I have to go get dressed now.” “Go with her. It’s okay. From this moment on, you will be Maddy until I call you back.” Maddy. My name is Maddy. Mother wants me to get dressed for the Officer’s Ball. I was just looking for a flower for my hair. I want to look extra pretty for Joshua tonight. “Coming, Mother,” Faith answered as Maddy. “I’ll be right in. I wanted to find just the right rose to match my dress.” “Well, I know you’re given to dawdling, so I just wanted to remind you.”

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Ginger Simpson **** Dr. Fredrick summoned Faith back to reality. “Another adventure, I’d say.” He checked his watch. “We still have a few minutes. Tell me more about your experience.” Faith knew she must look stunned. How could she not? “It felt so natural. That was Maddy’s house and her mother...my mother. My family owned that beautiful home and the inside...Oh, Dr. Fredrick, you should have seen the inside. It looked every bit as beautiful as the exterior. Highly polished floors, mahogany banisters, and elegant furnishings. My, we must have been very wealthy.” “Who is Joshua? You muttered his name.” “Joshua is my fiancé. We’re to be married as soon as the war is over,” Faith said matter-of-factly. “And...what war, Faith?” “The war between the states, of course.” She paused and shook her head. How do I know all this? Confused, she looked at her therapist. “How can I possibly know so much about Maddy and her family?” Dr. Fredrick leaned forward in his chair. “Do you believe in past lives?” “I’ve heard talk of them, but...” “I believe that we’ve tapped into a connection to your dream.” **** Faith sat in her apartment and pondered her visit with the doctor. So, she’d discovered a past life. What good did it do her now? Joshua wasn’t in love with her; he loved Maddy. Thin, fragile and attractive Maddy, not fat, ugly Faith. Okay, so she wasn’t as fat as she used to be, but she was never going to be Maddy, that was for sure. She made up her mind. If Joshua came to her in a dream again, she was going to try her best to stop the masquerade once and for all. What was the point of continuing? His nighttime visits only served to remind her how lonely her days had become. As she prepared for bed, she summoned up the courage to do what needed to be done. Restless, she tossed and turned for a long while until sleep finally claimed her. Her subconscious mind called out to Joshua, and as if the last dream had never ended, Joshua held her captive with his kisses. The quickening of her heart fluttered against the confining bodice of her gown. Her breath caught in her throat. Conscious thoughts fought to bring her awake. It’s just a dream, Faith. You’re dreaming again. A deep, sensual voice summoned her back. “I love you, Maddy. I want to make love to you forever.” It was the first time ever he had spoken to her. Until now, their conversations had been only lustful moans and groans. Dare she speak back? She was so confused.

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Forever Faith “Why do you call me Maddy?” she croaked. “That isn’t my name.” He chuckled. “What else should I call you? Do you prefer your given name, Madeline?” “But...my name is...” His tongue lapped at the hollow of her throat, sending shock waves through her body. “I shall call you whatever you like. But now, my darling, kiss me, for tomorrow I shall be gone. I’m leaving to take my place near the front and see this battle to the end. Tonight, my love, I’m Lieutenant Joshua Hartley, at your service.” “Don’t you understand?” she argued. “I’m not who you think I am. None of this makes sense. How can you love me when you don’t even know me? I don’t even look like the woman whose name you call me. I’m fat and ugly in comparison.” She waited with baited breath for his response. “Not to me, my darling; not to me. When I look at you, I see the woman I love.” He drew her into his close embrace. Passion wiped away her senses. While his lips covered her mouth in a deep and probing kiss, she reacted by snaking her left leg around his body. Her fingers grasped the taut flesh beneath his trousers, pulling him closer and making his hardened manhood pulse against the satiny material that separated them. Again, her conscious mind screamed. Wake up, Faith. It’s just a dream. As if heeding the warning, she shook her head and pushed Joshua away, holding him at arm’s length. “Don’t, please. You can’t keep invading my every sleeping hour and making me love you…pretending you love me. Can’t you understand what you’re doing to me?” His brows rose in surprise, and he held her firmly by her forearms. “But, I do love you, Maddy.” “I’m not Maddy,” she argued. “Look at me! I mean really look at me! I’m tired of being someone else in my dreams. I’m Faith. Fat Faith! Not the thin, sexy woman you desire and see when I sleep.” “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” “I can’t continue this charade,” she cried. “When I sleep, I turn into someone else, and that’s the person you love. Maddy, or whoever she is, isn’t me. Please don’t do this anymore. I can’t stand knowing you are just a dream.” “But, I’m not just a dream,” Joshua protested. “I’m real! We belong together, you and I.” He tried to pull her close. “No! You aren’t real...you aren’t. Leave me alone.” Faith thrashed about until her own sobs woke her. She sat upright in bed and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Lord, I can’t do this anymore.” But, the dream replayed itself in her mind. The taste of his kiss still lingered on her lips, and her skin still tingled from his touch. Was this what lunacy was like, she wondered. She threw her head back, swallowed hard and waited for her heartbeat to slow. As she looked around the empty room, she mentally admonished herself. Let him go, Faith. Admit he’s just a figment of your imagination.

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Ginger Simpson A lump of sadness formed in her throat and she choked it down. She reached for her journal, certain she was about to make the last entry about him. Her wonderfully handsome Joshua. **** The week seemed to take an eternity to pass before Faith found herself back in Dr. Fredrick’s reception area. She waited for her turn, drumming her fingers on her journal. The door opened. “Hi Faith. Nice to see you.” It seemed strange that she’d barely noticed his good looks since her first visit. She only had eyes for Joshua. As she took her usual place on the couch, the doctor started right in with questions. “So, tell me, have you had more dreams?” Faith leaned back and exhaled. “Yes, and I’m more confused than ever. Last week I remember being called Maddy, and that’s what he called me in our last encounter. And I know his name now. It’s Joshua. The same Joshua Maddy’s mother talked about during my last visit. What does it all mean, Doctor Fredrick? Why does he think I’m Maddy?” “I’m not quite sure, Faith, but I think we can find out. Get relaxed and let’s go back, only this time, we’re going to move a little forward in time. We’ll start where we left off and progress from there. Are you ready?” She was certain some hesitation showed in her eyes. She felt it. What if she didn’t like what she learned? But she had to know. “Yes,” she said. “I need to have answers.” “Relax, let your eyes grow heavy, your arms and legs turn to lead, your breathing slow and steady. Ten, nine, eight–we’re traveling back to the mansion. You’re standing beneath a beautiful Weeping Willow. The cool air is caressing your cheek...seven, six, five, four, three, two...you’re home and your name is Maddy.” “Yes, I’m home. My beautiful home. It’s almost evening, and the air is cool. I hear crickets chirping nearby.” “Maddy, can you hear me?” Dr. Fredrick asked. “Yes, I hear you.” “Okay, follow my voice, Maddy...we’re going to move forward one week...relax and let your mind drift forward. You’ve been to the Officer’s Ball, and you’re in your room. What are you doing?” “I want to cry. Joshua has gone to war and I miss him so. I worry that he won’t come back to me. But, he promised that no matter what happens, we’ll find one another.” “Okay, Maddy...we’re going to move forward one month, two months, three months...where are you now?” “Oh, my God.” Faith’s hand massaged the pain of Maddy’s breaking heart. “My home is in ruin. The Union soldiers have set torches to it and destroyed everything we have. All that’s left is a burned out shell. The countryside is nothing but smoldering ashes.” Tears streamed down her face. “I’m so hungry. We all are. There’s nothing to eat. The marauders set fire to the

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Forever Faith fields, cleaned out the garden and took all the food Mother had canned. Father tried to fight them…he and the few remaining slaves…but they beat him badly. Mother is tending to his wounds and praying he lives.” “Ok, Maddy,” the doctor interrupted her agony. “Listen to me, and move forward...six months, one year. Drift with me and look into your future and Faith’s past. Where are you?” “I’m in living in Atlanta, with my Aunt Mary. Father passed away and Mother and I came here to live. I lost my beloved Joshua, too. His whole regiment was wiped out. I’m destined to be an old maid, for I know I shall never love another like I loved him. The last post I received from him assured me that our love would be eternal, but I guess 'twas not to be.” Sadness filled her voice. Dr. Fredrick reached out to Faith. “It’s time to come back now. I want you to follow my voice and begin the journey home. Ten, you’ll leave all the hurt and pain behind...nine, you’ll remember everything about Maddy and hold her memories in your mind...eight, you’re coming back in time, back to the present...seven, six, five, four...almost here...three, two...one. Wake up, Faith.” With balled fists, she rubbed her eyes, then focused on the doctor. “Oh, I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my whole life.” “Why’s that?” he asked. “Life back during the Civil War was horrible. Maddy may be thin and beautiful, but I’ve got so much more than she ever dreamed of having. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m happy just to be me.” Dr. Fredrick chuckled. “That’s good to hear. But...” “There’s that ‘but’ again,” Faith remarked. “I know that means my time is up.” “You’re right. But, I’d like to see you back tomorrow, so we can sum everything up. I don’t see any reason for further journeys back in time. I just want to clarify your experiences and why I believe you’re having these recurrent dreams.” **** Faith held the last appointment of the day and hurried back to Dr. Fredrick’s office. All during work, she’d thought about nothing else. This time, instead of taking her place on his familiar sofa, she sat in a chair across the desk from him. Her palms started to perspire. “You look a little nervous, Faith,” the doctor remarked. “I’m anxious to hear what you have to say, but afraid to listen. Does that make any sense?” “Of course, but what happened is a normal progression. Most people just don’t take the time to explore the impetus behind their dreams or nightmares.” He paused and gave her an encouraging smile. “Do you believe in kindred spirits?” “I suppose I do. I’d like to think so, but I’m not entirely sure I understand them.” The therapist cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Let me see if I can clarify, by using your dream as an example.”

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Ginger Simpson Faith listened intently as he continued. “Many believe that life is a cycle that can be repeated, that when you pass from one you begin anew.” He began to lightly tap his pencil against his table, but realizing what he was doing, stopped. “From your experiences, it appears that during the Civil War era you were a young woman named Maddy who was engaged to a young man in the Confederate army. Since we didn’t continue exploring your life as Maddy, we have no idea how you died, but we know Joshua was killed during the war. I’m assuming from your heartfelt emotions during the session that you suffered greatly from the loss of your true love. Your compulsion for food is also quite understandable, after having survived war and experienced starvation. Those memories have stayed with you, as has the energy of Madeline’s soul.” “You see, Faith, souls are an energetic force and often adhere to things or people familiar and comfortable. You and Madeline are kindred spirits, bonded for eternity.” Faith was enthralled with the story. It was as good as any in the manuscripts she’d read. She inched forward in her chair. “Please, continue.” “The notes in your journal and the events during your sessions reveal that Joshua declared his never-ending love to you, and I believe that his spirit has traveled through the ages to find you again.” She shook her head. “But, I don’t understand. He traveled through the ages to find Maddy, but he found me. For what purpose?” “I’m not sure we’ll ever know unless Joshua himself reveals it to you. You are Maddy in spirit, and that’s who he loves, but Faith shares that spirit. I can’t tell you if the dreams will continue or cease, but, I’m hoping this helps clarify why he’s come in the first place.” Faith leaned back and sighed. “I still don’t understand what he expects from me. It’s so confusing. It pains me to think he believes that I’m his true love, Maddy, and even more, that I’m in love with someone who isn’t even real.” Dr. Fredrick walked around the desk, extended a hand and helped Faith to her feet. “Oh, he’s real, just not in the physical sense. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more to help.” “You’ve been very helpful, Doctor. I guess what happens from here on depends on me and Joshua.” **** A week passed with no dreams. Faith thought she would be relieved, but instead felt depressed. She cried herself to sleep, finally realizing that Joshua was gone. She’d never again know the feeling of being held or kissed by him, or enjoy taking every inch of him inside her and draining his last drop of love. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands wondering how she was going to get through life without him. Not since her mother passed had her heart been this close to breaking. She forced herself to rise and shuffle into the bathroom. She still had a job and couldn’t afford to lose it.

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Forever Faith Red-ringed eyes peered back from the mirror over the sink as she stood washing her hands. She pushed her tousled hair away from her face and leaned in for a closer look. Swollen lids and dark circles accented the paleness of her skin, and tears threatened to begin anew. Gently, her fingertips blotted away the moisture, and with a voice laden with sadness, she mumbled, “I guess we’ve both realized it was just a dream. I just have to accept that I won’t be seeing Joshua anymore. If only there was some way to make him real.” **** Why did she dread sleep? There was nothing to look forward to in her dreams. In fact, she hadn’t had one of any kind in over two weeks. Luckily, her work days had become much more tolerable since management filled a recent vacancy with a very handsome guy. Todd Miller was eye candy for any woman, but she wasn’t fooling herself into believing the smiles he cast in her direction were anything more than friendship. There was no way someone that looked like him would flirt with her. The day was hectic and the manuscript she proofed a reminder of her pain. She sat in front of the television and finished her low-cal TV dinner. A loud sigh escaped her lips as she glanced at the clock on the wall; only 7:00 pm and she was exhausted. Since Joshua stopped making his regular appearances, she had a hard time sleeping, but tonight she knew she’d have no problem. She flipped off the set and went to change for bed. Her head barely touched the pillow and she was out…or was she in Dr. Fredrick’s office? She restlessly tossed and turned. The dark of sleep she craved turned to light and she, or was it Maddy, stood on the front porch of her Georgia estate. Across the lawn, beneath the Weeping Willow tree, Joshua stood next to his horse. He beckoned to her and her tiredness vanished. His hat rested on his saddle horn, and a soft breeze fluttered through his dark hair, leaving one stray lock on his forehead. Her fingers ached to brush it away. He looked so handsome in his dress uniform–the red sash around his waist to hold his saber in place and his belt buckle shining brightly even in the shade. Her feet couldn’t move quickly enough to reach him. She had a million questions for him. Where have you been? Why did you not come to me? Is it me, or Maddy, that you love? At last, she was in his arms again. She felt his heart pounding, smelled his sweet breath, and reveled in his touch. His tongue delved deep into the recesses of her mouth while his embrace tightened to hold her closer. The flame that had grown cold from his absence was again ignited. She was breathless with want for him, but he pulled away, held her at arm’s length and gazed into her eyes. “I have missed you, my darling.” She started to speak, but he placed a finger to her lips. “Hush my love. I know you have questions, but my time here is short. Let me drink in your beauty to sustain me until we are once again together.” “But...”

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Ginger Simpson He placed a note in her hand and closed her fingertips around it. “Please, just read this and remember, I shall always love you.” He took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. Was this goodbye? Joshua plucked his reins from a branch on the tree and placed his hat firmly on his head. He put a foot in his stirrup and pulled himself astride his sturdy roan, then looking down at her, said, “I love you with all that I am.” He rode away leaving her with questions unanswered and a breaking heart. Tears clouded her eyes as she unfolded the piece of paper and began to read. My dearest Faith, I finally realize that Madeline’s memory is only a portion of what I love about you. My life and time with her have passed, but by finding you, I have learned that it is possible to move forward and discover love again. Although the special moments we shared were only in dreams, it was my only way of connecting with you. Now I’m here, in your time in space. Just as Madeline’s spirit has joined with you, I, too, have found my place. You have only to search for me. I will wait for you, my love. Come quickly. Yours forever, Joshua “Don’t go, please don’t go.” She woke herself with her own screams and quickly sat and scanned her room. Her heartbeat quickened as if she’d run a mile. “Oh, Joshua. Is it true, or did I only dream it because I want it to be so?” Confused, she turned on the light and looked at the clock—only an hour before her alarm would sound. The answers she got from Dr. Fredrick only left her more confused. She understood about kindred spirits, but how much of this dream was based on her desire to keep Joshua in her life? A lump formed in her throat when she recalled that he had died in the war...in the dream he was saying goodbye and going to his death. Tears spilled down her cheeks. How could she make sense of any of this? Her dreams had been constant for a while, then sporadic, then they stopped. Now he had come again for the purpose of saying goodbye, but leaving a note that told her exactly what she wanted to hear. She stared at the ceiling. “Please, God, help me get through this. I think I’ve lost my mind.” When all her tears were shed, she went into the bathroom to wash her face. There was no use trying to summon sleep again. She bent over the sink and splashed cold water on her face, then straightened and looked into the mirror. She wished she could wash away the hurt and confusion as easily as the mascara streaking her cheeks, but she knew only time could help. But how much time? She took a deep breath. Coffee was what she needed. As she walked through the bedroom on the way to the kitchen, she noticed something on the floor. She bent to pick it up. A gasp escaped her lips.

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Forever Faith Faith held the silky material to her nose and inhaled deeply of the masculine scent that still lingered on Joshua’s red sash. Her knees weakened and she quickly sat. The letter hadn’t been a dream. She held in her hands proof that her lover was real. A smile of contentment spread across her face as she held the fabric to her heart. Joshua was out there somewhere, and she was determined to find him. He did love her! Reminiscent of the manuscripts she read every day, Faith Oliver had found her happy ending…well, almost! Her search was just beginning, but for the first time, she had hope.

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Ginger Simpson

About the Author Ginger Simpson sat down at her kitchen table in 2002 with her laptop and began telling herself a story. The words showed her new places and grand things, and her first novel was born. Ginger lives in Tennessee with her greatest writing supporter, her husband, where she cares for grandson Spencer. She squeezes writing in between episodes of Thomas the Train, Max & Ruby, and Yo Gabba Gabba, but has learned to write to this background music.

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Forever Faith

Coming soon from Eternal Press

by Ginger Simpson Hope Harrison’s throat constricted as she listened to the diagnosis: terminal ovarian cancer. How could that be, in someone so young? She clutched her chest, removed her headset, and took a break from her tedious medical transcription duties. Listening to the patient’s diagnosis on tape provided a wake-up call. The poor woman’s medical history detailed the advanced stages of her disease and impending death. Hope’s heart hammered. She scolded herself for not seeing her doctor on a regular basis, and wondered how she’d handle the discovery of a horrific ailment. She stood and walked to the kitchen in search of the phone list she kept in the drawer. As she grappled through the junk she’d thrown there, she made a mental note to straighten things then dialed her gynecologist’s number.

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Ginger Simpson

Now Available From Eternal Press

by Ginger Simpson After being beaten by her husband, Catherine McGuire ends up in the hospital, eyes bandaged from her injuries, her world upside down. When the bandages come off, she never expects to see such a startling sight. She tried, to no avail, to stop the painful chattering of her teeth. Finally, a nurse covered her with a warmed blanket. The chill passed, but now her temples pounded in rhythm to the fearful beat of her heart. She silently prayed. Lord, please let me be okay. I’m so scared. The chorus of shouted directions in the examining room eventually melded into one loud voice, but none of it made sense anyhow. Her eyelashes fluttered as she fought to stay conscious, but the din grew muffled as darkness beckoned to her. The last thing she heard was someone yelling, “Quick, get the code cart!”

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Forever Faith

Now Available From Eternal Press

by Ginger Simpson Sarah started toward her smoldering Conestoga, now barely recognizable. She’d used her last penny to buy it to make this trip, hiring a driver and packing everything she owned into the beautifully crafted prairie schooner. This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out. Headed for California, she wanted to leave all her bad memories in Missouri and forge new and happier ones. Maybe she’d wake up and discover this was all just a horrible nightmare. Her throbbing head told her it wasn’t likely. The smaller wagon behind Sarah’s stood unscathed except for the arrows jutting from the canvas covering. In contrast to violence, delicate feathers decorating the shafts swayed in the breeze. Her eyes smarted from drifting smoke. She called out again, but still received no response. Sarah summoned strength, gathered her wits and forced her reluctant legs to move. Unsteady at first, her determination gave her strength.

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Ginger Simpson

Now Available From Eternal Press

by Ginger Simpson The trail leveled out and widened considerably, making Cecile feel more relaxed in the saddle. Although they’d exchanged little conversation, she sensed Lone Eagle’s excitement and wondered if he was aware of her increasing nervousness. She was just preparing to voice her fears again when they crested the mountain. There, nestled in a valley, protected by mountains on three sides, lay a village of at least a hundred tepees. She quickly spotted the one Lone Eagle had described as his father’s. It was as if the stories on the trail had come to life. Children ran, laughed, and played while a few women traipsed across an open space with baskets on their hips. Another hung something on a wooden rack beside her medium-sized tepee. The gnawing fear of facing this moment returned and grew stronger as they rode past a large boulder at the entrance to the village. A Lakota brave, dressed like Lone Eagle, stood on top, glaring down at them, his appearance ferocious and his loud guttural yell, ear-splitting as it bounced off the mountain walls and echoed through the village. She covered her ears. As if sensing her uneasiness, Lone Eagle urged his horse closer and patted her hand. The entire village came alive, and much to her chagrin, clamored around their horses. Smiles greeted Lone Eagle, as the people pushed closer, curious to see who rode with him. She followed his lead, maneuvering her mount through a sea of bodies, while strange hands reached up and tugged at her clothing. The men viewed her with open curiosity, but the women’s hostile stares made her want to spur her horse in the other direction. As the mob continued to press forward, blocking her path, Lone Eagle took

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Forever Faith her animal’s reins and led her through the crowd. She sat firmly in the saddle, holding her breath, fighting the panic building inside her. Finally, Lone Eagle tore himself away from reaching hands and arms and walked toward her. Even though a reassuring smile lit up his handsome face and warmed her throughout, an icy shiver of fear ran up her spine. He lifted her down from the saddle and into his arms, then continued to hold her close for longer than necessary once her feet were on the ground. She felt awkward with so many watching. A sudden hush fell over the crowd, almost as if they wanted an explanation for his actions and her presence in the village. He draped a protective arm around her shoulders and made a statement in his native tongue. Murmurs moved through the crowd, and the people stood in wide-eyed surprise. Some engaged Lone Eagle in conversation. Cecile took a deep breath and held it, wondering why all eyes were on her again. Lone Eagle translated for her. “I told them you are my woman and demanded that they respect you. My people think you are an evil spirit that has bewitched me. I explained to them there is nothing evil about you. They now know that the one with the fiery hair will share my lodge and bear my sons.”

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