Wishing with all his heart he could heal her, destroy the monster that paced, snarled and roared within her, Jake knew he couldn’t. It was the most helpless damned feeling of all, wanting to protect Lily as she struggled to get better, wanting to remove the trauma so she’d never have to go through this again. The sunlight was warm and consoling as it surrounded them on the blanket. There was a slight breeze to cool Lily’s perspiration. And most of all, Sage and her pups surrounded them, in touch with the anguish Lily was going through. The dogs sensed her suffering.
He gently moved his hand slowly up and down her back, her shoulders shaking, her head buried deep against his chest, as if to try to hide from the terror within her. “It’s going to be all right, Lily . . .” The lump in his throat grew, and then he rasped, “I love you. We’ll get through this together. Just hang on. I’m here for you. . . .”
There. It was finally out. Jake doubted she could hear his low, broken voice against the background of her terror-filled sobs, wrapped within her own grief. How he wished he knew about the night she’d lived through in that Afghan village. It would help him to help her. Whispering once more, “I love you, Lily. We’ll handle this together. . . .”
He wanted a lifetime with this brave woman who didn’t know her own strength or what she was capable of accomplishing after she got her footing back. But he did. Lily was open, easy to read, simple in the way she saw life. She wasn’t a woman who lived in clutter or complexity. He was a person who saw a lot of gray areas, wishing he had more of her simplicity. Just being around her was helping him readjust positively in so many ways.
Leaning down as he heard the sobs dissolve, he used his fingers to wipe some of the wetness from her wan cheeks. Lily began hiccupping and pressed her hand against her mouth, embarrassed. He pressed a kiss to her brow.
“Relax. Just let things settle naturally,” he rasped. Her dark lashes were beaded and barely raised.
“Hang on,” he muttered, releasing one arm and pulling a white handkerchief from his back pocket. He pressed it into her hand and she took it.
“T-thanks, Jake,” and she blotted her eyes, her hand trembling.
Jake groaned silently as she laid against his chest, her hand near his heart, gripping the handkerchief. Moving his fingers across her unruly hair, while the breeze played with the strands, he saw the gold glinting in the chestnut. Heartened by her trust in him—and that was what it was—made his own heart swell with fierce love for her. Curving his arm around her shoulders, he held her as she began to quiet. Eventually, the hiccups stopped, and he could feel her trying to gather the strewn emotions that had blown up on her.
“That sort of sneaked up on you?” he asked, his cheek against her hair.
“Yes . . .” She dragged in a ragged breath, pressing her cheek against his dampened cotton shirt. “I needed to hear what you said, and I felt so much of the shield I’d tried to build to protect myself against the world just dissolve.”
“It should,” he rasped. “I’ll do my best to protect you, Lily, to keep you safe. I know how raw you are. I know how I used to wake up, facing the next day feeling unprepared. It was a terrible feeling and I can see you going through the same thing.”
Giving a jerky nod, she whispered hoarsely, “I feel that way every day, Jake. It never goes away.”
“Over time, it will,” he promised, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. It felt as if he were laying his cheek against silk. Lily was like that, too. Graceful, adaptable, but oh so strong.
“I hope you’re right . . .”
He eased his arm away from her shoulders, helping her to sit up. She gave him a sheepish look after wiping her face. Jake caressed her shoulder. “I’m glad you let me hold you, Lily. We all need one another. That’s the biggest realization I came to during my first year out of the Marine Corps. I told you about the psychologist they brought over at the Bar C, Libby Hilbert, who works with the vets twice a month on Friday evenings.” He shook his head. “We were all so damned locked up, unable to say much of anything, much less let go of our emotions. Over the months, as we got to know one another, we all sort of relaxed.” He caressed her damp cheek, her eyes wounded-looking holes. “Libby taught us how to cry, Lily. You were locked up just as we were. And thank God, you had the courage to let it go. That speaks volumes, don’t you know that?”
Shaking her head, she sniffed, blew her nose and gripped the hanky. Athena came galloping over, leaping into her lap. Lily cupped her hands, bringing the pup to her breast. “I didn’t see it coming. It just overwhelmed me, but I think I know why.” She lifted her head and met his softened gaze. “I trusted someone outside myself for the first time since that night, Jake. I trusted you . . .”
Chapter Seventeen
August 4
Jake had watched Lily after her long, hard cry, and then when she retreated deeply within herself, pensive. He understood why, based on his own experience. While crying had helped him, it opened the valve that was like an IED, ready to go off inside him. Lily barely ate anything. Again, understandable. She wasn’t talking very much either. But the pups, as if sensing her agony and grief, surrounded her like a little troop, playing with her, as if to pull her out of the depression that came with the symptoms. They were a loving distraction and she did respond.
Sage came to sit next to him and he fed her bits of his sandwich because he wasn’t in a mood to eat either. Still, he wanted to keep Lily outside, to have sunlight, blue sky and beauty surround her because he knew it would help her stop that deep dive into the black hole that resided within them both.
An hour later, they packed up everything. Jake wasn’t about to let Lily deal with the aftermath alone. He placed his arm around her waist, walking with her. To his relief, she acquiesced and leaned again him, her arm sliding around his waist. Sensing her inner turmoil, Jake didn’t try to chat with her. That would have been foolish. Instead, he kept his pace slow, his stride short, allowing the puppies to follow their mom home down the trail they’d made coming out to their picnic spot. Sometimes, he’d slant his glance down in Lily’s direction, heartened that by the time they reached the cabin, her wan cheeks were pinking up, telling him she was feeling a little better than before.
Opening the gate, Sage and her brood went to lap water from one of the many bowls, then lay exhausted and panting afterward. Jake closed the gate. Later, near nightfall, they would bring them in for the evening, the night temperature dipping to the forties or, sometimes, even lower. Lily worried because they were still so young.
“Why don’t you go get a long, hot bath?” he asked her, opening the door to the cabin.
“Good idea.”
“I’ll take care of things.”
She shared a grateful look with him and stepped into the living room.
Jake busied himself in the kitchen, putting things away. He was sure Lily thought she had ruined their outing, but she hadn’t. She loved going on these weekly picnics and so did he, not to mention the dogs. These grief interruptions that came out of nowhere couldn’t be planned ahead of time or be seen coming. They happened out of the blue and caught everyone by surprise. More than anything, Jake wanted to hold Lily, give her a sense of outer security even if she didn’t feel it inwardly.
* * *
Jake was bringing in the brood from the yard when he saw Lily emerge from her bedroom. She had taken a hot bath and then gone to her room to nap. Her eyes were puffy with sleep, her hair tangled and in need of a combing. These kinds of blowouts always made him exhausted afterward as well. The pups spilled down the hall as she emerged, and he saw her stop, bend down, and pick up Athena, who was leading the pack, her tail wagging wildly, her tiny yips echoing off the walls.
Smiling to himself, he finished by shutting the back door after Sage trotted in. He liked having dogs in his life again. Glancing to the still-sleepy Lily, he asked, “Up to a cup of fresh coffee?”
“That sounds good,” she said, picking up Athena, who licked her chin and jaw. “Th
ank you . . .”
“Come to the kitchen,” he urged, heading in that direction. Jake wanted to stop, turn and pull her into his arms, give her that sense of safety once more, but he knew he couldn’t enable her. Strength was born of bouts like this, and no one knew it better than he did. Still, he wanted to hold her because he loved her.
She placed Athena on the floor, and the pup scampered across the kitchen floor and leaped down into the living room, where the other pups were now playing. Pushing the hair from her eyes, Lily walked into the kitchen, where Jake was pouring two cups of coffee for them.
“I crashed and burned,” she admitted, her voice hoarse as she came to a halt near him. He had showered and changed also. The scent of lime soap gave him away. Even in jeans, he looked sexy to her, the denim molding to his long, hard thighs. Jake usually favored blue or checked white and blue chambray shirts, and he had one now as well. The cotton fabric stretched across his broad shoulders and well-muscled back.
Handing her a mug, he said, “You needed it. Can’t have a blowout like that and not feel exhausted afterward.”
Wrinkling her nose, she brought the mug to her lips, sipping the steaming brew. She followed Jake to the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair for her.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells good.”
Jake sat down at her elbow. “Leftovers.” He held her bruised-looking gaze and saw how the corners of her mouth were still pulled inward. That told him she was still experiencing a lot of pain or depression, he wasn’t sure which. “Are you hungry at all?”
“No . . . but I know I have to eat something, and I will.”
“If nothing else, we have an acute sense of survival,” he teased drily.
A bit of light came to her eyes. “I’ve never cried that hard, Jake. I didn’t realize how it would total me. Afterward, I felt like someone had taken a bottle brush to the inside of me. I feel numb right now.”
“Numbness always follows a cry like that,” he agreed quietly, placing his hands around his warm cup. “It’s how it always seems to go.”
“How long does it take to recover from one of these sessions?”
Shrugging, he said, “From what I’ve experienced, sometimes hours. Sometimes a day or two. It depends on the person. I didn’t get in touch with my emotions until I started going to the Bar C Friday-night therapy sessions.”
“Do you still go to those sessions?”
“No, not anymore, because I got what I needed from Libby. I took the tools she taught us, and they worked. My life improved a lot from her suggestions and help.”
“Does she still come to the Bar C?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe I should attend some of those meetings, if Shay will let me.”
“I’m sure she will. Give her a call tomorrow, if you feel up to it.”
“I will.” She tentatively sipped the coffee.
“I’ll go with you, if you want company.”
Giving him a warm look, she whispered, “I’d like that. Right now, I’m feeling pretty raw and unstable.”
“It will pass. When I was in those funks, I would focus on something positive.” He hitched a thumb toward the living room, where there were tussles and excited yips breaking out among the pups as they rolled and played and chased one another around the couch.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve cried?”
Giving her a sheepish glance, he finally admitted, “Yes, I have . . . I still do sometimes. Odd moments. Hit me out of nowhere. I don’t have any control over it. Libby explained it as being like a pocket of grief bubbling up to be released. She said it was a good thing, not to try to stop it or fight it.”
“Did this ever happen out in public?”
“No, though some of my vet cowboys have had it happen to them. I leave them alone so they won’t be embarrassed, and so do the other wrangler vets. We all understand.”
“It’s a lonely weeping,” she said, her voice scratchy. “I was so glad when you held me, Jake. It helped so much. You gave me somewhere safe to land. I could give up and drown in my feelings and tears.”
He reached out, placing his hand on her lower arm. “I wished I had someone to do that for me. Most of us don’t. I knew what was happening to you, Lily, and I tried to do what I wanted done for me when I’d break down.” His mouth thinned. “It’s hard for me to admit this, but I want to try to be as open as I can with you. Better to hear it from me, and maybe my experiences can help you.”
“I saw men cry in combat,” she whispered, clearing her throat, looking up at the ceiling, fighting back fresh tears.
“That night?”
“Yes . . . Everyone I saw was crying. So was I.”
Jake didn’t press her with more questions. Lily would tell him when she was ready; it wasn’t something that could be squeezed out of her. “You’re going to find in the next couple of days that you’re wide open and raw. Everyday things are going to impact you a lot more emotionally than usual. You’ve been protecting yourself, and your shield has been torn away.”
“Like right now,” she wobbled, frowning. “I don’t have any way to control it, Jake. It scares me to feel so out of control.”
“I know. It did me, too, at first, until I got used to it and saw the ‘pattern’ of it, as Libby calls it. She called it a ‘breakdown for a breakthrough,’ and said it was a healthy response, a healing response, to what we went through.” He moved his fingers down her arm and then squeezed her fingers. “After I had a major blowout one night, the next morning I was called early because one of our cows was having birthing difficulties. When the calf was born, I cried. Ann Sharp didn’t look surprised at all. She’d seen this happen many times over the past five years she’s been in the valley.” He managed a twisted smile. “I was the one who was surprised. The birth, the calf being alive, not dead, triggered another episode in me.”
“What did you do?”
“Turned around and walked away, sobbing. I stayed away from my crew until it had its way with me. Then, I tried to paste myself back together again, turned around and carried on. They acted as if nothing had happened because all of them had gone through the same thing themselves.”
She turned her hand over, holding his. “This is so painful. I had no idea how this would impact my life every day and night. It’s horrible.”
Giving her a wry look, he growled, “It sucks. But at least we have each other, Lily. That helps so much.”
“It sure didn’t help the wives of the men, or the husbands of the wives, coming back with PTSD, though. I’ve seen so many marriages break up because those traumas stood between them.”
“There’s that, too. Because we both have the same issue, I see it working for us, not against us. Is that how you see it?”
Nodding, she said, “Yes. You put yourself in my shoes.”
“And because we’re hypersensitive, we know when to come to or leave the other person alone.”
Nodding, she grumbled, “It’s a lot better than being alone, with no one to talk to about how you’re feeling or what’s going on inside.”
“Misery loves company,” and he shared an uneven grin with her. He saw her lips twitch, but her eyes were looking less muddy. Just getting to talk about this was helping her. “We’ll get through this, Lily. You’re stronger than you think. I’ve seen vets in far better shape than you and it broke them.” He picked up her hand, kissing the back of it, then released it. “Keep fighting. You’re winning this war, whether you feel you are or not.”
August 5
Lily hesitated outside her bedroom, staring at Jake’s closed door. It was three a.m. and she’d woken up, feeling panic. Knowing it was from the weeping session the day before, she padded barefoot into the living room. It was Sunday morning. There was a night-light on, and she could see Sage pop up her head from her large, comfy dog bed, watching her. All seven of her pups were nestled against her belly, sleeping deeply. Aiming herself at the couch, she sat down and pulled the dark green afghan Jen
na had knitted for Jake around her shoulders. She huddled under it, laying in a fetal position, her head resting on the arm. She felt so lonely. Wanting Jake so much, wanting him to hold her once again because it was healing to her.
A door opened in the hall.
Lily instantly sat up, her eyes widening as she saw the silhouette of Jake emerging from his room. She’d been quiet about opening her door and not making any noise. How could he know she’d come out here? Gulping, throat dry, she watched his silent progress toward her, feeling his unseen gaze upon her. Her heart began a slow beat. She needed him. As he drew nearer, she saw he was clothed in a pair of blue-and-white-vertical-striped PJ’s, his upper body bare. The shadows made his masculinity stand out to her. It beckoned her.
“Want some company?” he asked, his voice low and gruff with drowsiness.
Her whole body burned as she caught the light in his darkened eyes. Lily wasn’t sure who was hungrier for the other. “I want more than company, Jake.”
Instantly, his eyes narrowed on her.
The silence lengthened, taut and sizzling.
“Tell me what you want, Lily.”
It took every last shred of her courage to whisper brokenly, “You . . .”
He offered her his hand. “Come to bed with me?”
Feeling dazed and shocked by her own daring, she placed her cool, damp fingers into his hand. His flesh was warm, dry, and her fingertips tingled as she felt his calluses. He pulled her slowly to her feet. Turning, she pulled the afghan from her shoulders and allowed it to drop to the couch. “I won’t be needing this.” She was so brave! Maybe this was a part of her that wasn’t wounded or broken, because she felt good, felt confident and stable as she lifted her chin, meeting Jake’s shadowed gaze. His hand tightened around hers.
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