Gray grinned. “I hear you. We have wolf coloring books over there, some kid videos and other educational items your son might enjoy having, too.”
Pete Bradford groaned. “And we thought we had to worry about Justin being bored while we were out here.”
Sky slowly stood up, not wanting to startle Justin, who had come back and was leaning against his mother’s legs, holding her hand. “Well,” Sky told them warmly, “I’ll be Justin’s babysitter while you two go on the group rides. We’ll have fun here or over at the center.”
Judy pressed her hand to her breast and sighed. “I just can’t imagine all of this. Our travel agent said the Elk Horn Ranch welcomed children with challenges, but this is just incredible! It’s beyond anything we could have ever hoped for.”
Gray nodded and slipped his hand beneath Sky’s elbow. “We hope you enjoy your time at the ranch. If you’ll excuse us, Sky has a few things to take care of with me at our new medical dispensary.”
Sky followed him, liking the closeness Gray established between them. A week had passed since her flashback episode. The late-afternoon sun was warm, and the valley was green and beautiful. She lamented his hand slipping away from her elbow. “What’s up?”
“Oh, just wanted to rescue you,” he murmured, giving her a mischievous grin. He halted at the door that said: MEDICAL OFFICE. “I also wanted to take a look at how you arranged your office.” Sky had spent a week getting it in order.
Sky nodded and stepped in. The facility was about four hundred square feet, small but cozy. Gray followed and closed the screen door behind him. Outside, a number of wranglers were showing the arriving six families the cabins they were assigned to. Looking around, he murmured, “Nice.”
“I particularly like the examination room,” Sky said, pointing to the open door to the right.
Gray craned his neck inside the room and looked around. It was painted in five rainbow colors that swirled lazily around the four walls, and the ceiling was white. Perfect for children. Sky had thoughtfully added a tiny brown stuffed teddy bear that sat on the counter with her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. “Kids are going to love to come in there,” he said, glancing over to where she sat behind her new blond-oak desk.
“I hope so,” she said.
“Got everything now?” he asked. The difference in Sky between last week and this week was remarkable. She had slept through every night without incident, awakened every morning looking rested. Gray had worried she might have a kickback on the PTSD, but hadn’t so far. She looked good enough to eat in those jeans; she filled them out so well. Today, she’d worn a long-sleeved white cotton shirt and a lightweight brown leather vest with brass buttons down the front of it. The pink neckerchief around her neck was nearly the same color as her cheeks.
“Maybe...” she said, frowning and looking up on the wall opposite the desk. There, she had all the drugs under lock and key. Sky watched him walk like a silent cougar over to her desk. Gray perched his hip on the edge of it, his full attention on her. Instantly, her heart rocketed up in beat, and she felt that wonderful aura of protective energy pour off him toward her.
“I’m sure I’ll make some adjustments as I go along,” she added, talking more to herself than him.
Gray nodded, clasping his hands on his left thigh hooked over the corner of the desk. “So, you think Justin will sit quietly on your lap when you feed the pups tomorrow?”
“I hope so.”
“If he doesn’t, you know you’ll need to pick him up, take him outside and let him stay with his parents. Then you go back in and feed them.”
“Good advice.”
“He can watch you feed through the window.”
She smiled softly. “You were kind to do that, Gray.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “I’m a kind dude every once in a while.”
Feeling the heat of his gaze, remembering the night before, Sky felt thickening heat purl in her lower body. “You are,” she assured him. “Just because you were once a big, bad SEAL doesn’t mean you can’t be a compassionate guy who helps others.”
“Guilty as charged,” Gray said, holding up his hands. He slipped off the desk. “Gotta run. I’m meeting some contractors to talk over the blueprint plans that Iris and Rudd made for that new wolf-pup enclosure.”
“They are three lucky little tykes,” Sky said.
“They are,” he agreed. “I’ll see you later.” Gray felt damn lucky that Sky had walked into his life, although he kept it to himself.
* * *
SKY HAD JUST gotten into the employee house when the landline phone rang in the kitchen. Who could be calling? Everyone had cell phones. Closing the door, she hurried over and answered it.
“Sky?”
“Mom!” Her heart pounded with sudden joy. “Why didn’t you call me on my cell?” Sky had given her mother both numbers.
“Sorry, honey, I just didn’t think. Sky, it’s about your father...”
Sky’s hand tightened on the phone. She saw the door open, and Gray stepped in. He nodded in her direction and closed the door. “What’s happened?” The words came out in a strained whisper.
Gray halted and turned, hearing the sudden fear in Sky’s voice.
“He’s had a heart attack, Sky. He’s okay. He’s resting comfortably in the hospital. The doctors said his three main heart arteries were nearly all closed with plaque buildup.”
Sky closed her eyes, remembering the last, harsh words her father had said to her. That she was fine, that all this crap in her head was her imagination. Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I-is he going to live?”
Her mom sighed. “Yes, he’s going to be fine.”
“When did this happen?”
“Early this morning. He woke me up, telling me he felt like a horse was sitting on his chest. He was breathing shallow and his face was gray and sweaty. I got him to the hospital as fast as I could. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, but he’s just gotten out of surgery. I didn’t want you worried or waiting on pins and needles to see if he was going to make it or not. He’s okay, Sky. Thank goodness.”
Gray walked over. When he barely rested his hands on Sky’s shoulders, tension was radiating off her. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders, leaned down and asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Tears burned in her eyes. Sky heard the gruff warmth of Gray’s voice near her ear. She shook her head. His hands felt steadying. Comforting.
Gray stepped away, releasing her, and she suddenly felt so alone. It was the PTSD, the anxiety amping up in her, making her feel emotionally unstable. Her mother sounded exhausted. Sky knew she loved her father with every cell of her being. This had to be a terrible blow.
“Maybe you could pray for your father? I know you two had a falling-out before you left, honey.”
Hearing the sorrow in her mother’s voice, Sky closed her eyes, fighting back her tears. “Y-yeah, he was kinda muleheaded.” She heard her mother laugh a little.
“Your father is a mule, no question.” Her voice lowered with sympathy. “And he should never have spoken those words to you, Sky. I know how much it hurt you. It drove you away from us....”
Anxiety tore at Sky. “Mom, I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past. I had to leave, and you know why.”
“I do, honey. Listen, your father is resting now. I’m going to stay at the hospital and talk to his cardiologist a little later. I think they’re going to keep him in here for observation for two or three days. Once I know, I’ll call and let you know. Okay?”
“Yes, that would be fine.”
“And how are you doing? I’m sorry I missed my promised call to you last week, but things have been up in the air around here.”
Her mother usually called weekly, and Sky always looked forward to it. Once
, Sky had been like her Cheyenne mother with her rock-solid confidence. Not now, however. Not ever again.
“Don’t worry about it. You just focus on Dad, okay? Do you think I should come home?” Sky didn’t want to. Still too raw from their heated argument that drove her out of their home.
“No, you stay where you are, honey. I can handle things on this end.”
Sky smiled tentatively. “You can handle anything, Mom.”
“It’s good to hear your voice, daughter. You feel better to me. Maybe lighter? Things must be going well for you at this ranch.”
Her mother’s voice always buoyed her, fed her hope. “Things are going wonderfully here, Mom.”
“I’m so glad, Sky.”
“We have wolf pups here, and I’ll take a few photos and send them by email to you. Maybe that will cheer you up?”
“I’d like that. So would your dad.”
Sky’s heart sank. She doubted her father would ever apologize for what he’d said. “Okay, Mom. Give me a call and let me know how Dad is coming along in a few days?”
“I will. Goodbye. I love you, Sky.”
Gray had poured himself a cup of coffee and waited until Sky hung up the phone.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Wrapping her arms around her chest, Sky turned and told him what had happened.
“Glad he missed that bullet,” Gray said, his brows dipping. He gestured toward the coffeepot. “Want a cup?”
“Right now, to tell you the truth, I could use a shot of whiskey.” Unable to remain still, she unfolded her arms and walked aimlessly around the living room, her gut alive with anxiety and grief.
“About the only thing we have in the house is a bottle of wine,” Gray said, following her. He sat down on the couch, watching her pace.
“I don’t touch the stuff,” Sky said, battling sudden tears that wanted to come. Why the hell should she cry for her father? After what he’d done to her? Halting, she took a ragged breath, trying to control her wild, escaping emotions. Hating PTSD, hating how her feelings were amplified times ten, she dropped her hands from her face and cast a look down at Gray. He was sitting relaxed at one end of the couch, legs crossed at his ankles, watching her. “I might have PTSD, but I’m not going to self-medicate to stop feeling this terrible anxiety in me.”
“Come sit.” Gray patted the couch next to where he was.
Swallowing, Sky saw the kindness come to his face, the understanding clearly written in his eyes. Gray knew what it was like. She sat down, inches separating them, remembering him holding her that one night. “God,” she muttered, “you must think I’m a mess.” Like her father did.
Gray shook his head. “Never, Sky. You know that.”
Just his confidence in her soothed some of the aggravation. Twisting her fingers into a knot in her lap, Sky whispered, “I feel like I’m apologizing all the time to you, Gray.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not necessary. I can understand why you’re so conflicted about your dad.”
She shut her eyes and tried to distance herself from her anxiety. “It got so my dad would look at me like I was some kind of wild, crazy animal that has escaped out of my cage. And now he’s the one who’s in pain.”
Wincing, Gray shifted the cup and slid his hand across her hunched, tense shoulders. “Was he always critical of you?”
“No.” She absorbed his touch, welcomed it, wanted more. Sky fought her need because she felt she was taking advantage of Gray’s generosity toward her. He’d kissed and held her last week. Now tonight there was another crisis. She couldn’t just fold and fall into his arms. She had to rebuild herself on her own.
“You said your father was in the Marine Corps for four years. Did he see combat?”
“I—I don’t know. He never said, and I never asked.”
“You don’t remember your dad mentioning being in combat?”
She pushed several strands of hair away from her eyes. “Yes, no memory.” Twisting a glance toward Gray, she asked, “Why do you ask?”
She began to relax as he slid his hand across her shoulders. “If he had seen combat, maybe he was sitting on a pile of PTSD emotions. By you coming home and showing your own PTSD symptoms, it could have triggered his.”
“Ohhh,” Sky murmured, frowning, thinking about Gray’s words.
“Did your mother ever tell you if your dad had nightmares?”
Rubbing her aching brow, Sky shrugged. “Vaguely... I have to ask her, Gray. I don’t really remember.” She straightened and lamented his hand drifting away from her shoulder.
“A lot of guys never say anything about it, Sky. No matter what war, whether it was Vietnam or another one, most never talk about it.” He’d had good luck meeting Dr. Jordana McPherson, and she’d helped him tame that dark monster inside him. And soon, Gray was going to urge Sky to get help from Jordana. He saw the monster she wrestled with daily. Saw it taking a horrific toll on her entire life.
Sky shut her eyes as if fighting back her reaction. Planting her elbows on her thighs, she buried her face in her hands. “I just never thought about it that way...because he never talked about his time in the Marine Corps.”
Grimly, he said, “That’s probably a pretty important clue that something did happen to him. Something gave him PTSD.”
Shaking her head, the pieces tumbled into place. “Oh, God, if that’s so, then my dad didn’t have anything left over to help me.”
Gray set his cup on the lamp table and moved forward, sliding his arm around her. “You know yourself that eighty percent of your energy is turned inward on trying to control those feelings. I’m sure your dad loves you, but something triggered him, Sky. Probably your nightmares. I’ll bet if you call your mother in the next few days after his crisis has passed and ask her, she’ll confirm he had nightmares after he came home.”
“This makes so much more sense to me now, Gray,” she whispered, hungrily absorbing his arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to him. He fed her strength, gave her back a feeling of steadiness. “God knows I really was a mess when I got home. I couldn’t sleep. I was restless. I jumped at every shadow. I had so much insomnia. I’d fall asleep during the day and then jerk awake if either of them entered the living room, where I was sleeping on the couch.” Sitting up, Sky shook her head. “How could my dad live all those years and never show any of these symptoms, Gray?”
Gray shrugged. “He’s a very strong individual, and he probably internalized it. Remember? I told you some PTSD survivors can look normal on the outside. They have the internal strength to stop it from showing on the outside, like others do.”
She studied his shadowed face, thinking how strong Gray was. “Were you able to?”
“Hell, no. I had nightmares, insomnia, jumped at my shadow just like you did.”
“That makes me feel better in a sick kind of way,” Sky murmured wryly, watching his chiseled mouth curve faintly at the corners. Gray squeezed her shoulder. How badly she wanted his mouth on hers again. The healthy part of her that had survived her torture craved him. The unhealthy parts of her made her feel as if she was weak, needy and unable to survive alone in the world.
“I learned to take it an hour, a day, at a time, Sky. You have to, also.” He searched her face. “I’m glad your dad is all right. And maybe later you can go home and see him.”
“Not now, Gray. I’m too sensitive, too overwhelmed with everything.”
He gently skimmed her shoulder and forced himself to release her from his embrace. Gray understood the need for Sky to fight her tears, to keep battling, because the alternative was to give up. And she wasn’t one of those people. “Well, maybe as things quiet down around here and you get a feel for the rhythm of the work, we’ll talk sometime.”
“About what?”
“Me. And how I got
help with my symptoms.” He smiled a little, seeing hope flare. “Without drugs,” he amended. Something he understood was important to Sky. She didn’t see herself, see the fact she’d refused drug treatment for her symptoms and fought a daily battle on sheer guts alone. Yeah, she was her father’s daughter, no question. Sky’s face, those high cheekbones, broad brow and full lips, came directly from her Cheyenne mother, Balin, who had given her daughter her warrior blood. Fighting his very real need to kiss her, Gray knew he couldn’t force their burgeoning relationship in any direction. Sky had to keep leading. She was the one floundering and trying to grasp at the straws of her life after the torture. Gray wanted to support her doing that, not become an impediment, or worse, a distraction, to her.
But damn, he wanted her in every possible way. She intrigued him on every level. All of that had to remain mute and unsaid. At least for now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT WAS 3:00 P.M. on Sunday afternoon when Gray climbed into the truck and left for Jackson Hole. The induction of the six families was going off like smooth clockwork, and Rudd Mason had asked him to make a quick run into town for him. They were low on special feed for some of the animals at the wildlife center, and Gray wanted to get it stockpiled so he wouldn’t have to take time out from his busy schedule next week to do it.
When he left, he saw Sky with Justin. The young, shy boy had ahold of her hand, and she was walking him over to the center. A warm feeling flooded Gray as he drove down the asphalt two-mile road toward the main highway. No one was immune to Sky’s warmth and care. Justin would bloom this week, and Gray was looking forward to seeing the boy come out of his shell.
At the Horse Emporium, Gray dropped in to greet Andy, the owner, as well as pay for his order. The place was deserted on a Sunday afternoon, which wasn’t unusual.
“My only wrangler on duty is on a run to another ranch with a large order,” Andy told him.
Gray shrugged. “No problem. I know where the sacks are. I’ll load them myself.”
“Sure?” Andy asked.
“Positive,” Gray said, lifting his hand in farewell and leaving out the front door.
Wolf Haven (The Wyoming Series Book 9) Page 16
