Country Wishes
Page 36
Avery wore a tiny pink knit hat.
Hunter a blue and white striped one.
The shock of their size sucked the air from Carrie’s lungs.
Their eyes were covered for protection from the special ultra-violet lighting. Each wore a miniscule diaper, and enough wires attached to their tiny bodies to light the local high school football field for a Friday night game.
Carrie stared at the preemies.
They were so tiny they didn’t look real. More like shiny porcelain dolls. The babies had little to no muscle tone. She could hardly tell they were alive. She gave herself a headache focusing to detect any rise and fall to confirm they were breathing.
Avery yawned, her rosebud lips formed a sweet, puckered “o”. She was beautiful.
Their skin was wrinkled with a reddish-purple tone, and their skin was so thin it was almost translucent, showing visible blood vessels beneath the surface of the skin. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on either one.
She tried to memorize every facet about the precious babies, to give Erica a full report when she saw her. No doubt her friend would want details.
Carrie and both sets of grandparents shared an emotional moment at the sight of the precious babies fighting for their lives.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jake pulled Boomer aside.
She frowned.
Their heads were bowed conspiratorially.
She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two men.
“…I’m meeting Barbara in an hour for a beer. We have a lot to talk about…” Jake said.
Who’s Barbara?
Boomer responded. “It’s time to let go of the past. Seeing Barbara is a step in the right direction.”
What were they talking about? And, who was Barbara? And why did their conversation make her stomach churn?
Nausea set in.
It almost sounded like—no it couldn’t be.
Hearing another woman’s name on Jake’s lips hurt more than she’d expected.
She’d pushed him away for far too long, and now he had found someone else…
Too late.
Chapter Eight
Jake could hardly believe it was the long Thanksgiving weekend.
The weather changed overnight, bringing strong winds, low temperatures, a threat of the first snow with the Black Friday morning.
A reminder that the Christmas season was about to begin.
Dressed in his camo pants, and his Army t-shirt, he tugged his hoodie over his head as he left the counselor’s office, on his way over to Boomer’s.
He liked the walk. Enjoyed the fresh air, even as grey clouds drifted in, covering the sun. Earlier on the morning news, the weatherman announced a snowstorm heading their way.
He took pleasure walking everywhere. The slow sedate form of travel allowed him quiet time to ruminate where his life was going. Today, he reflected on several things.
Jake could hardly believe ten months and twenty-eight days had passed since the blast that changed his life so dramatically. Time being what it was, an equalizer, and as much as he hated to admit it, the first six months of rehabilitation and physical therapy had been the easy part.
On the other hand, the last four months after his return, trying to find himself had been sheer torture. More mentally and physically taxing than re-learning to walk.
Add the emotional tailspin he was now in, he’d all but given up hope that he’d ever get Carrie back. He’d voiced the idea of leaving town to his folks the previous day.
They begged him to put off his decision until after the first of the year, his mom suggested he talk it out with a psychologist before he made any decisions. He agreed only to humor them, but it was lip-service. Nothing more.
After he’d come through the worst of it and contemplated going home, he had such a different view of where he would be by the time Christmas rolled around. If he was honest, he’d imagined being married to Carrie by now.
Maybe that was the problem. He’d taken too much for granted. Forgotten along the way that he’d expected Carrie to be there for him, and yet, he was the one who’d broken it off. He’d done it for the right reason, but had hurt her, nonetheless.
He’d wanted her yet pushed her away at the same time.
As for Carrie, she alone, treated him the same way she always had. No different.
He was the one who put up a wall between them. Fear that he couldn’t be the kind of man she deserved.
Thanksgiving.
What a joke!
Begrudgingly, he found it difficult to be thankful. Life vs logic, each battling for dominance.
Admittedly, he had plenty of blessings.
He was alive, first and foremost. And yet, for that same reason, he still couldn’t exorcise the guilt that he was home and his team was not. Every time he saw a German Sheppard his heart clenched. Thor.
They would never share another holiday with their families, so why should he be allowed to enjoy it.
Survivor’s Guilt. That’s what the first psychologist he’d seen at Landstuhl had called it during his recovery. Just another label.
He had no perspective.
No hope.
No future.
Hating everything about his life, he warred with his head and heart before he was finally able to acknowledge he needed help.
Making that call had been the hardest, single decision he’d ever made. Jake wasn’t one to ask for help, but he did. He called the VA and was assigned to Barbara the day before the twins were born.
In the weeks since his first visit, he’d heard his fill of psychobabble: Assimilating back into civilian life, PTSD and its effects, Cognitive Behavioral Intervention, Panic Attacks, Flashbacks, Social Adjustment, Hypervigilance, and Acceptance and Integration. And while he didn’t feel as if he fit into the vegetable soup of labels, he was smart enough to recognize he suffered more than a few of key symptoms.
Anger, fear, loss, why didn’t he die, and the search for motivation to deal with the various stages of grief was discussed in individual and group sessions. He couldn’t change the past, but he had to find a way to deal with the here and now.
And then there was his family. Things between him and his parents were better. He still didn’t want to talk about his emotions and feelings to them, but the day-to-day strain had disappeared.
They accepted that his military time was off limits, but his mother couldn’t fully disguise a certain amount of pity.
It must be a parental thing.
Someday, if he was lucky enough to have kids, maybe he’d understand. For now, he let her sadness pass, biting his tongue to remain silent rather than inflict his anger or frustration on her.
He had wonderful friends. But—It was that but that made everything so damned difficult.
The weight of his anger for what had happened to his team, still reared its ugly head occasionally and with no warning, and usually in a burst of frustration or when he was stressed. There was nothing but stress in his life and the last thing he wanted was to unleash the beast within on someone he cared about.
Back in July, Boomer and the guys, felled and bucked a dozen huge trees at the back of his parent’s property. He’d supervised them, since he’d been in no shape to participate at the time. When Shorty didn’t move fast enough, Jake had to tackle him out of the way of a falling tree then proceeded to rip him a new one for not paying attention. That’s when Jake took a step back and avoided the guys.
Over the next several months, he took his time, learning to adjust his balance as he managed the chainsaw to trim the downed branches into eighteen-inch rounds. As the wood was drying in the summer sun, Jake began working with an ax. He eventually found a comfort zone. His solace came from the physical labor of working in the mountain air.
His father insisted he use the log splitter.
Jake would have none of it. He needed the physical exertion to let loose his rage and anger over not being about to save his men. He became fi
xated on the need to feel normal. He had annihilated several rounds, when his brain derailed, and he couldn’t get the memory of the horrible way Flynn died that day. The fact that he couldn’t figure how to save what remained of his so-called relationship with Carrie added to his sullen mood. All that remained for his efforts that first day were piles of chips, chunks, and splintered wood. It had been this incident that slammed home that things weren’t right with him.
As Jake turned onto Boomer’s street, snow began to fall. Tiny crystals at first, then larger flakes swirled around him as the wind picked up. He shivered and pulled the hood tight around his head.
He knocked on the Jenkin’s front door, then stomped his feet to shake off the dampness from his combat boots.
On top of everything weighing on his mind, the twins were twenty-seven days old…today!
Both babies had continued to gain weight. Avery now weighed three pounds seven ounces, and Hunter was up to three pounds fourteen ounces.
“Come in,” Boomer yelled.
Jake let himself in to find Boomer sitting on the sofa, tying his shoes.
“We’re on our way to the hospital to see the babies. They said we might get to hold them today,” Boomer said with a big smile of anticipation, then lowered his voice. “How did it go?” he asked about Jake’s counseling session.
“Eye-opening,” Jake said, taking a seat.
Boomer tilted his head. “In what way?”
“During our appointment today, Barbara forced me into an uncomfortable position by broaching the topic of leaving Hopeful, possibly for good.”
Boomer’s head shot up. He dropped his foot to the floor. “What, I thought we agreed to table that topic, for now?”
Jake ignored his friend. “She asked, ‘Where would you go?’”
“What did you say?” Boomer clasped his hands, rested his forearms on his thighs, listening intently.
“California.”
“Why there?”
“That’s exactly what Barbara asked. To which I responded, the sun and the surf.”
Boomer washed his hands over his face, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What would you do there?”
“She asked that too. And I said—no idea. Maybe fix cars, motorcycles, or something. I’m not up to doing actual rescues, but I could work with SAR as a coordinator. Hell, I’ve run missions, I could manage a rescue.” He shrugged much as he’d done in Barbara’s office. “Then Barbara pulled a switcheroo, saying, ‘Why can’t you do that here?’”
Boomer sat up straighter, lifting his chin. “Hell yeah, man, you could do it here. SAR is always looking for people.”
“She’s right. But I answered anyway—I don’t see myself moving on if I stay. That’s when the subject turned to Carrie.”
“And—”
“I didn’t have an answer. Carrie’s lost to me.” Jake slumped, hating the admission.
“What else did Barbara say?” his friend asked.
Erica chose that moment to make her presence known. “I don’t want to hear any more about Barbara. Do whatever you want but stop hurting my friend. You had it in your power to fix things with Carrie. The choice was yours to make. But you were so buried in your own pain you failed to see how much she was hurting too.”
It was obvious to Jake that she’d been listening to their conversation.
“That’s enough, Babe,” Boomer reached for his wife’s hand.
She ignored her husband. “I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be depressed. A lot has changed. But everything that happened to you, also had a direct impact on Carrie. No matter how hard I tried to convince her to let you go and date other men, she refused, said it was like betraying you. I reminded her you broke it off. No matter what I said, she defended you.” Erica slapped her hands on her hips. “Why? Because she loves you, that’s why!”
“Excuse her, Jake—”
Erica flashed her husband a look that made Jake’s balls search for a hiding spot. “Let me give you some perspective—” Erica continued, a catch in her throat. “—my babies can’t breathe without help. I’m pumping eight times a day to give them the best chance for growth. I’m powerless to do anything more for them.” She pressed a clenched fist to her chest and with a vehemence he didn’t know she possessed, before adding, “I’m their mom, I’m supposed to protect them. For God’s sake, I haven’t even been able to hold my babies. Do you have any idea what that feels like?” She gasped, her lips quivering. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’m exhausted and hormonal. My life revolves around two tiny babies struggling to survive. To me, we have two totally different views on what’s important.” She sniffed, slowly lifted her head to stare him straight in the eyes. The intensity of her fury ebbed. Tears welled in her eyes, and when she blinked, twin drops coursed down her cheeks. “I can’t fix my babies. But you and Carrie have everything you need to make everything right with your world. It’s in the palm of your hands. Let the past go, say I love you, and start making plans for a wedding. It’s really that simple.” Erica’s shoulder sagged.
Jake opened his mouth to reply, but the doorbell rang, interrupting the conversation.
Erica had lost steam. “Screw your male pride. Carrie’s not waiting for an apology. All she wants is to hear you say three little words.” She dropped to the couch and sniffed. “Pretend you’re a Nike commercial. Just do it.” She placed her hand over his and tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Boomer opened the door and let in the Sheriff Deputy, Ben Dawson.
“We’ve got a situation. A missing child, lost on the Blue Mountain Pass.” Ben took a breath then continued. “The Estes are new to town. Their extended family joined them for the long holiday. There were fifteen of them when they decided on a hike. They didn’t realize how fast the weather can change here in the mountains. No one can say for sure when or where they lost track of the boy, Michael.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Erica asked, packing several small bottles of milk into an ice chest for the babies.
Ben moved to stand in front of Jake. “Carrie was first on the scene, she found the boy.”
“Of course, she did.” Jake smiled, then pushed to stand. He didn’t mean to have a tone in his voice. But it was further proof that Carrie didn’t need him. She had a perfectly healthy body that wouldn’t betray her.
“They’re still assembling the team on site. The weather is hampering those coming up from the Springs.” Ben continued. “But—she fell trying to get to the boy.”
“What happened?” Erica wobbled, then clutched the Sheriff’s arm for balance.
Jake’s legs buckled. He collapsed on the sofa.
“Do something,” Erica demanded. “A storm is rolling in.”
Ben turned to speak solely speaking to Jake. “The storm already hit the mountain. She’s with Michael, but she’s injured. They both are. We don’t know how bad, but we did manage to lower a few supplies, plus some food and water.”
Erica was close to hysteria, torn between worry about her friend and her babies. “Radio for the Search and Rescue helicopter.”
“We can’t. The winds are too high.” Ben fidgeted with his hat in his hands.
Jake’s natural ability to command kicked in, sharpening his thoughts. “What are you doing about it?”
Boomer went to Erica, holding his wife while she melted down.
Jake understood the weather dilemma, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ultimately concerned for Carrie’s well-being. In fact, anxiety coursed through him until he was ready to burst. If he hadn’t been—well what he was, he’d have been the first person in line to rescue her.
“What can we do?” Boomer said, his arms around his wife, who was still trying to compose herself.
Erica sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Is Carrie okay?”
Sheriff Dawson looked from Boomer, to Erica, back to Jake. He swallowed and looked down as if the answers were in his shoes. “We don’t know at this point. She called me fr
om the road and asked me to stop by and tell Erica she wouldn’t be able to meet her at the hospital.”
Ben didn’t elaborate further.
In Jake’s eyes, things couldn’t be worse. He struggled to rise, leaning heavily on the arm of the sofa, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Boomer, take me home.”
He walked past Erica with her mouth gaping open. He squeezed by Ben, who still clung to his hat. Lumbering his way to the door, he turned back and asked. “Where is the SAR Command Post setting up?”
“Yes!” Erica screamed, jumping out of her husband’s arms. “Go, go, go. Save her. You’re the only one who can.” She practically shoved him out the door. “I’ll be at the hospital. Meet me there when they’re safe.”
Boomer gave his wife a kiss then headed for his truck.
Ben followed them out and gave an audible sigh of relief. “Thank God. The team is setting up near Lover’s Leap on Blue Mountain Pass. Carrie and Michael are stranded on the ledge of Heaven’s Bluff.”
Jake recognized the location. The irony that Carrie was at Lover’s Leap, where they’d made love the first time was not lost on him. He stifled a smile at the memory, but he couldn’t allow his attention to stay on that one amazing moment. He had to focus on the mission at hand.
Up in his room, Jake removed a rucksack from his closet as well as his climb bag. He scanned the room for necessities. The fact that the Sheriff didn’t give a full report on Carrie said he’d have to anticipate the worst. In his head, he turned the situation into a mission. No need for weapons, but no way would he go into the wilderness without his revolver, a Colt 1911 45 automatic, even if this was Search and Rescue.
In this instance the weather was enemy number one. Time was critical. He tucked an extreme weather windbreaker into the rucksack. Along with several bottles of water and half dozen energy bars. Disposable hand warmers. First aid kit.
The sound of the horn beeped.
He loaded fresh batteries in the flashlight.
Matches.
On the back of his door, he grabbed his Military Utility belt. He tucked his tactical knife into the slot on the belt. Compass. Gloves. Full-face mask.