A deafening thunder clap woke Sam early in the morning. The echoes through the canyon made it sound increasingly louder. She pulled the jacket draped over her up to her ears, frustrated, and attempted to sleep. A heavenly scent filled her lungs. She opened her eyes just enough to discover Jake's leather jacket acting as a blanket; shielding her from the mild cold and rain. He must've put it on her last night.

It smelled really good; like aftershave. Sam inhaled a deep breath one last time, before spotting Jake through a sheet of rain. He was tying a tarp over the lean-to so everything inside could stay dry.

Jake must have caught her glance, because he uttered, "Go back to sleep, Sam."

She snuggled closer to the jacket and closed her eyes. Her mind was already spurting with blissful thoughts when she was almost asleep, but Jake added one more. "Dream of the Phantom," he whispered.

In Sam's dream, she walked on water. Crystal-blue waves lapped at her ankles and the dense pool held her afloat.

The Phantom came to her by sunlight. Dressed in a white eyelet lace dress, the girl laid her gaze upon the stallion. He came like a ghost; misty against the blue sky, also breaking the rule of sinking. His silver mane sparkled; drops of water weaved into the web of horse hair.

Sam's name for her horse remained suspended on her lips.

Instead of her speaking to him, Blackie spoke to her. "There's more to the secret," he neighed.

The water became deeper. She was sinking…

Sam's eyes snapped open, full of curiosity and fear. Staring into the twilight, she wondered what her dream had meant. Was there a part of the secret Jake hadn't told her yet?

Too tired to even move, Sam whispered through the morning air. "Jake," she croaked. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he answered, his voice floating in from outside the lean-to.

Her stomach squished in nervousness. Last night seemed almost unreal. Jake Ely kiss Samantha Forester? No way!

She grinned, knowing it had happened. Once more, she tried to get up. Her arms quivered and buckled under her, then collapsed. She fell back to the ground; back to where she started.

"Your breakfast is going to collect flies and maggots if you don't get your sleepyhead-self out of bed, Sam," Jake teased her.

"Really, Jake?" Sam suddenly found the energy to pull herself up. "We're still teasing each other?"

"Hey," he said in defense. "Who said we were going to stop?"

She giggled, then crawled on her hands and knees to the extinguished fire. Taking her granola bar, biscuit, and apple from Jake, she sat down beside him to eat her meal. Sam only concentrated on chewing the stale biscuit, biting into the juicy apple, and enjoying the granola bar for a while, before breaking the cone of silence.

"Thanks for the breakfast, Jake," Sam complemented.

He only grunted a response.

Sam sighed, not succeeding in suppressing the question blazing in her mind: was there more to the secret?

"Jake," Sam sighed once again, covering her hand over his. "I'm not going to pretend there isn't something I want to ask you."

Jake met her eyes, implying her to go on.

"I had a dream last night. About the Phantom.

He laughed shortly. Sam guessed he was remembering when he told her to dream about the Phantom. But she didn't take the bate and echo his laugh.

"This is serious," she insisted. He stopped laughing. Letting out a long breath, she finished. "He said there's more to the secret. He spoke to me." Her eyes were wide and bulging. She tried to relax, knowing she probably looked insane.

"So, Blackie's a fortune teller?" Jake joked.

Sam stared him down.

"It's just a dream, Sam," he answered as his smile fell.

She wasn't so sure. "Is it?" She squeezed his hand harder.

He was silent so long, the sun had risen over the horizon, causing everything to cast long shadows across the desert floor.

Sam let go of his hand to pull off her sweatshirt. It was getting warm fast.

Finally, Jake answered her. "There is more," he said quietly. "The Phantom may be in danger."

Something wrenched at her heart. Once again, she felt as though she was sinking; breaking the surface of the water instead of staying buoyant.