Lily patted Checkers, then threw her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his silky black-and-white mane. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Checkers!” She kissed him, gave him a big hug and then released him.
Jake genuinely wished she’d done that to him, but he knew Checkers enjoyed the lavish hug because his ears drooped a bit, indicating in him, at least, that he truly enjoyed Lily’s enthusiastic gratitude. He envied the horse.
“I still feel like my legs are bowed,” Lily complained as they drove back to Jake’s house. She rubbed the insides of her thighs because now they felt stretched and grouchy.
Chuckling, he said, “The more you ride, the quicker your legs will adjust, and that won’t happen at all.”
She sighed, placing her elbow on the doorframe, the window open, the wind heavy with the scent of sweet, lush grass growing in the pastures on either side of the dirt road that led to the cabin. “I’m not sure how often I can do it.”
“It won’t take you an hour next time to brush and saddle Checkers.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ve got some time day after tomorrow: ten a.m. Want to do it again?”
Did she ever. “I’d love to! Jenna and I are done with all her exercises by then.”
“And I know she likes to sit on the couch and watch her favorite TV shows at that time of day.”
“It’s perfect.” Lily rubbed her hands together. “This is so exciting. It’s like opening up an entirely new window in my life. I loved brushing Checkers. He’s so gentle and patient with me.”
“Did you enjoy riding him?”
“Absolutely! I felt like I was on top of a twelve-foot ladder! What I loved the most was that swaying he did. I felt like a baby being rocked in the cradle.”
“I call it horse meditation. Just lulls me into a nice, soft place where there’s none of that anxiety eating away at me.”
She gave him a pensive look, hands in her lap. “Yes, that’s it. And the weirdest thing of all, Jake, is that I had no anxiety! I didn’t from the time you started teaching me how to groom Checkers. It just,” and she opened her hands, giving him a questioning look, “. . . went away. Even now, I feel like I used to, before the incident.”
“Calm?”
“Very. It’s such a nice break from that gut-eating anxiety that’s always there in me.” She peered intently at him. “Is it that way for you? For the other wranglers who have PTSD?”
Nodding, he added, “That’s why Maud and Steve never went to ATVs instead of horses. They understood that horses work their quiet magic on humans, who respond in kind. If we rode around on ATVs all the time, the work would get done faster, but they don’t dissolve the anxiety we get from riding or working around a horse. I don’t know what it is, or what to call it, but it’s like a horse is a sedative of some kind for all of us. And today, you experienced it, too.”
“How long does it last? The calm, I mean?”
Shrugging, Jake said, “Probably a couple of hours. I know when I mount my horse, I can start to feel my anxiety instantly dialing back. Within fifteen minutes, I’m free of my symptoms. And because I’ve been doing this for three years, when I hang up my spurs at night, the anxiety usually stays away until the next morning.”
Lily shook her head in disbelief. “I call that magic, Jake. How would scientists or even doctors explain this calming effect horses have on us?”
“I’ve been talking to Maud and Steve about creating a program for vets who have PTSD, bringing them out here, ten men and women at a time, teaching them to work around a horse, riding it and then helping us out as would-be wranglers. It would show them that there was something besides those awful medications, antianxiety drugs and sleeping pills, that can help calm the beast that resides within all of us.”
“I would never have believed this,” Lily whispered, suddenly emotional, “if you’d shared that with me earlier.”
“I know.” He slanted her a glance. “That’s why I didn’t tell you about it. I figured if it was going to work for you, you’d find out just like the rest of us did.”
“Do you think that because we’re animals, too, there’s some kind of invisible connection between us and horses?”
“I think dogs have it with vets who are given a trained service dog to aid them in daily life. At least, that’s what I’ve read in the articles I’ve come across. Having a service dog does the same thing as riding a horse.”
“Maybe that’s why I love working at the shelter.”
“I thought about that when you told me you had a part-time job there. Does it help you?”
“Yes. Only my duties are many, and you can’t ride a dog,” and she grinned, sharing it with him.
“Point taken. But the dog is also a companion, someone who can sit at your feet, keep you company.”
“Why don’t you have a dog, Jake? It feels natural for you to have a buddy.”
“I used to as a kid. When I got out of the corps, I was so messed up that it took every bit of my energy just to make it through the day. I had no energy left over to take care of anyone else at all, not even a dog. That’s pretty sad, isn’t it?”
Lily felt his loneliness for the first time. The searching look he gave her as he parked the truck in front of the cabin made her want to cry—for him. “My parents have a dog, a beautiful collie named Rachel. She’s very old now, thirteen, but when I came home after getting out, she was always at my side. I can’t tell you how many times I would bury my face in her long, thick ruff and cry my eyes out, cry until I had no tears left. She always sat there with me, not moving, just letting me hold her and bawl.”
“And in your travels to find yourself, you ended up here in Wind River at a dog shelter. Something that gave you at least some comfort.”
She studied him in the cloaking silence that built gently between them. Jake had his hands on the steering wheel, watching her, and it didn’t make her feel stripped or raw. This was something new that she couldn’t name, and it felt like a warm cloak was being tenderly placed around her shoulders. She loved these deep, searching talks with him. “It did. I guess I never saw that until you quantified it. I’m too mired in my anxiety to see much of anything.”
He reached out, placing his roughened hand over hers, which were clasped in her lap. “In time, you will. You have to be patient with yourself, Lily. The first year is the hardest.” Jake lifted his hand away. “You have me, the crew of the ranch, Maud and Steve. They all understand the issues. They want to help you. I want to help you because despite all you’ve survived, seen and heard, you haven’t lost your ability to care for others. And so many with PTSD do lose that for some time afterward. Some never get it back, and that increases their level of suffering. Humans need one another whether we like it or not.”
Her skin tingled wildly where his callused palm was draped across her clasped hands. Lily hadn’t expected his tender gesture at all, and it shocked her in the best of ways. Human touch was something she yearned for more than anything else. What she’d give to have a caring hug. And yet, in reality, it was her choice because she didn’t let anyone know what she’d been feeling.
“I don’t ever want to lose my ability to care for others, whether animals or humans,” she said in a tight-lipped whisper, battling back an urge to cry. Just one touch and she felt like someone had unzipped that vat of deeply hidden emotions. Somehow, Lily knew that if Jake ever placed his long, hard arms around her shoulders and drew her next to him, she would be all right. She would get through this. She would come out the other side of it healed, though not perfect.
That realization hit her so hard, it stunned her into silence as she tried to come to terms with it. She’d never looked to others as emotional support. But she needed that now. Wanting to burst into deep sobs, Lily fought against it. Jake wouldn’t understand her reaction. She’d found that while recovering in the hospital. Tears were seen as a sign of weakness and nothing else, so she’d learned to button them up and swallow them. On
ly when she returned home to Idaho and Rachel came to sit with her had she allowed herself to hug the dog and bury her face in her fur and sob out all her terror and grief.
“I think,” Jake said, opening the truck door, “you’re a nurse for a reason. You’re a service-oriented person, Lily. It gives you deep joy to help others, whether a two-legged human or a four-legged animal.” He closed the door, came around the truck and opened her door for her.
“You all right?” and he gave her a brief, intense perusal.
“Uh . . . yes . . . yes, I’m okay. . . .”
Chapter Nine
June 26
Lily couldn’t sleep that night. She was tossing and turning, replaying her conversation with Jake earlier in the day. Riding Checkers had brought a new level of awareness to her wounded world. The whole day had turned out to be a dream come true. Tonight, when Jake came home for dinner, he remained more open. Even Jenna noticed it, she thought, although she didn’t say anything to her about it. There was a softening in him. He seemed to have enjoyed the outing with her.
Even now, her anxiety had not returned. Every couple of months she’d have an anxiety-free day, though she never knew why. Those days were like freedom, tasting the joy of feeling calm, centered and at peace within herself once more. And when those days happened, she dreaded the return of the anxiety, knowing it was going to come back. It always did.
This time was different, although she hadn’t been able to define it until Jake had shared with her that horses and dogs seemed to tame and quiet the anxiety monster within the military vets. It made sense to her. She was raised with animals on their farm. They were a part of the family. The connection between animals and humans was well known. She sighed, opened her eyes, staring up at the dark ceiling above her bed. Jake’s hand covering her own in that one spontaneous, completely unexpected moment, hovered strongly within her.
She had sensed from the beginning that the man behind the walls was far different from the gruff appearance he projected to everyone around him. Understanding walls meant protection, she accepted that about Jake. He, too, was wounded. He wasn’t mean or nasty with people either. From what she could tell, he was a good leader and manager. She had never heard him yell at any of his wranglers, always praised them for what they did right and was patient when they made a mistake. That meant a lot to Lily. Being in the military, she’d met great officers and poor ones. And Jake struck her as a good, stable, sound leader.
He also had an element to him that she’d rarely seen in men. It was as if he sensed her real self, her rawness and inability to protect herself fully right now. She wished mightily he’d met her when she was well and whole. She wasn’t the wilting flower he saw now. How she wished she could have her old, confidant self back! Jake seemed to believe she could retrieve it. He’d told her more than once that the first year was the toughest. He was three years into PTSD and seemed to have a handle on it. He looked normal to her and behaved that way out in the world. If only she could reach that point! Shortly after that, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
Jake looked around the kitchen. He’d come in at noon in hopes of finding Lily. Jenna was knitting in the living room.
“Hi, Son,” she greeted. “Nice to see you. I thought Lily said you were going to be gone all day in one of the pastures.”
He took off his Stetson, stepped inside and shut the door. “I was, but I changed my mind. Where’s Lily?”
Smiling, Jenna laid her knitting in her lap. “We got finished with my exercise routine and she walked over to the barns about an hour ago. She was dying to work with Checkers again, and I told her to go do it. She needs some space, and to get some fresh air, too.”
“She walked to the barns? That’s a mile away. Why didn’t she drive her truck to the area?”
“Didn’t seem to be a hurdle to her,” Jenna said. “There was nothing else for her to do around here today and she wanted some good, physical exercise, deciding not to drive over there. You were going to be gone and she wanted to go see Checkers, groom him and be around him. I really think that horse has done something magical for her. She was telling me this morning that since that first ride three days ago, her anxiety is at an all-time low. She thinks if she works with Checkers more, it might help keep her anxiety down to a dull roar.”
Scratching his head, he nodded. “I put my assistant in charge of the project. I was wanting to get her out to the barn today and thought I’d surprise her. I should have called her.”
“So?” Jenna said archly, “drive down. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you. You two get along so well together.”
“She’s a good person” was all he’d admit. “I’ll go hunt her down. Have you had lunch yet?”
“Yes. Go have fun.”
“Did she take the cell phone with her?”
“Yes.”
Jake nodded, threw his Stetson on his head and left. Seeing Lily wasn’t what he’d classify as fun. It went far deeper, an unknown emotion pushing him toward her. He was starving for more information about her. Since her first try at riding Checkers three days ago, he felt as if his heart and soul were being crushed through an invisible sieve in his chest.
Climbing into the truck, he took off for the headquarters area.
Rubbing his chest, he saw the fluffy white clouds over the Wilson Range looking like they were a hat spread across the sharp peaks. Late June brought thunderstorms to the area, usually in the afternoon and early evening. He thought those clouds might be the beginnings of a storm. Needing to see Lily, just to hear her voice, listen to how she saw the world around her, made him relax. Jake didn’t want to admit she was growing on him, becoming indispensable to his life, but she was. Jenna treated her like the daughter she’d always pined for but never had. What was happening to him?
He rolled his truck to a stop on a slight knoll where he could see the many activities going on in the main area of the ranch. In that one arena, he saw Lily on Checkers, riding slowly at a lazy clip-clop walk. Sometimes, she would use the reins to guide the gelding in another direction. Eyes narrowing, he saw she was constantly checking her posture, the position of her legs and feet, and he felt good about that. Lily was truly trying to ride properly, and he felt warmth, as well as pride, throughout him. She wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter.
After ten minutes, he drove down to the other side of the barn, where she wouldn’t be aware of his presence. Lily walked Checkers out of the arena, dutifully shut the large gate and led him up the slight slope to the horse barn. There were a lot of trucks, wranglers and some riding horses in the vicinity. Headquarters was always a beehive of activity. As Lily entered the barn, Jake noticed she was walking slightly bowlegged, and he wondered how long she’d ridden Checkers. He’d find out, pushing his shoulder off the barn door and starting to walk down the clean aisle opposite where she’d just entered.
“Jake!” she called, waving to him, grinning. “What are you doing here?”
He couldn’t help but give her a sour smile in return as he ambled toward her. “Thought I’d drop by to see how your ride went.” He drowned in the shining life dancing in her blue eyes, her cheeks rosy with life. It was so rare to see her cheeks pink up; most of the time, she looked pale, her eyes dark as she wrestled with her inner demons. “Like some help?” he asked, standing off to one side as she turned Checkers around so he could be placed in the ties.
“No, I promised myself I was going to get this right.” She laughed a little, catching his gaze. “I timed myself this morning. It only took me thirty-five minutes to take Checkers out of the stall, examine his feet and legs, brush and saddle him up.”
He raised his brows, leaning against a huge beam that supported the roof, and rose from the first floor up to the third floor of the barn. “That’s a big difference. What was Checkers doing as you ran around him timing yourself?”
She slipped the bridle off the pinto, hooking it over her arm and then picking up the first tie. “Ve
ry funny. He seemed more alert. He was probably wondering why I was rushing around like a madwoman.” She clipped on the panic snap. Ducking beneath the horse’s neck, she grabbed the second tie, clipping it to the other side of his halter. Straightening, she said, “Jenna told me this morning you would be gone all day.”
Shrugging, he said, “After I got the big stuff out of the way, I had my assistant handle the rest of it.” Looking out the open doorway of the barn, he said, “I thought this might be a good day to slide in another riding lesson, but you beat me to it.”
“That was so thoughtful,” she said. “I enjoyed my long walk down the road to HQ. I left my truck at the cabin because it was such a beautiful afternoon.”
Her hair was in a ponytail, tendrils mussed around her temples. She was so lively, almost bouncy. Best of all, confidence exuded from her. Had this ride done all of that? It must have, because he’d never seen Lily this animated, almost giddy as she worked the cinch loose on the saddle with her slender fingers. He was going to step in and help her, but right now, she needed to continue to build her confidence, not have someone short-circuit it because he felt she needed help. Lily hauled off the saddle, tucked her arms beneath it and carried it gingerly to the tack room.
She returned, wiping her hands on the thighs of her jeans, which had smudges of dirt here and there. More than likely, she propped each of Checkers’ hooves on her thigh to clean them. He did the same thing with a big horse like that. “Something is happening,” she told Jake as she reached into the grooming box and took out a rubber-toothed brush to gently dig up grit or grime from Checkers’ back.
“What’s that?” Today, Lily was far more confident in what she was doing. He wondered if she was the type of person who ran and reran a task in their mind until it became like breathing. Certainly, today it looked like she’d been doing this all her life.
She moved the rubber brush in small circles, gently loosening grease, sweat and dirt around Checkers’ back where the saddle had been. “My anxiety, Jake. It’s gone.” Lily blew a strand of hair away from her eyes, giving him a glance across the horse’s back. “Since the first ride.”
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