His mother had finally given him the opening he needed. He looked down at her. “Let me ask you a question first.” It was time to be up-front. Nothing else would do. “Anything.”
“Was Dad always faithful to you?”
Rather than a cry of righteous indignation in his father’s defense, or even an instantaneous answer in the affirmative, the silence that followed Walker’s question told him everything. Oddly enough, knowing the rumor had turned out to be true made little difference to him at this point. He’d lived with the possibility of it far too long.
It was no trick of light that her face suddenly paled and she averted her eyes. “Where did that come from?”
“If the answer is yes, it doesn’t matter. If the answer is no, it still doesn’t matter because the person who repeated the rumor to me is dead and buried.”
To hurt the mother he loved without qualification was killing him, but she’d wanted the truth and so help him, he’d felt she deserved to hear it. Otherwise she’d always try to fix something that couldn’t be fixed. With no more secrets, they could live and let live.
“I love you, Mom. Your loyalty to Dad is astounding. As far as I’m concerned you’re a saint. Don’t ever forget that. You know where to find me.”
“Walker?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget Wednesday.”
He’d been positive she was going to say something else, then thought the better of it. At least his father’s infidelity was no longer a matter of conjecture. That was something anyway.
“I won’t.” Giving her another hug, he left the house, his thoughts reeling with the knowledge that the person responsible for the landscaping was none other than the woman whose image hadn’t left him alone.
Not wanting to run the risk of seeing his father, he took the road back to the cabin, but once he’d pulled up in front, he didn’t feel like going inside. His mother’s words still rang in his mind. Paula Olsen’s husband had been killed in war.
Walker didn’t want to think what her loss must be like. He’d seen Troy and two Marine buddies die and still felt the impact of those losses. But he hadn’t lost a spouse. Her grief must be a constant well of pain.
After she’d gone to the trouble to try to thank him, the least he could do was seek her out and convey his sympathy. He had the strongest premonition that if he put it off, his psyche would find another reason to give him fits during the long hours of the night.
Without hesitation he started the engine and headed for Cody, taking the back way around the property to avoid people. Besides Jesse, Barbara had seen him and now his mother knew he was home. It wouldn’t be long before the whole family buzzed with the news.
No doubt his mom was on the phone to his father, apprising him that Walker had returned. He had no idea if she would include the fact that their son had heard about the affair his father had covered up all these years. But if she stayed true to type, and he believed she would, she probably wouldn’t say anything to him.
Though Walker had finally confronted her, he had no desire to discuss it with any of his siblings in the event they were clueless. In their case ignorance was bliss. Ruth Pearsoll wasn’t the only one who wished Troy had never overheard the rumor and repeated it.
“PAULA? MR. CODY FROM the Cottonwood Ranch is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment. What would you like me to tell him?”
Her heart did a swift kick. Did the receptionist mean J.W. or… Except that J.W. had never come to EarthDesigns. She’d always met him and his wife at the construction site of their new ranch house.
“Give me five minutes, Louise, then send him in.”
If it was Walker Cody, she’d given up on ever seeing him again. Flustered, she reached for her purse and reapplied lipstick before giving her hair a quick brush. It was a coincidence that he’d found her in the office. She’d only come in long enough to meet with a new client and would be going back to the apartment in a few minutes.
With Angie home from work today, the two of them were trading off babysitting. When Paula got home, she would tend the children so her friend had some free time.
She’d barely put her purse back in the drawer when the attractive, disturbing man who’d filled too many of her thoughts walked in her office. Paula noticed he’d worn another shirt of mostly dark blue. Navy seemed to be his preference. No sign of a beard this morning.
As he removed his hat, she realized she’d been caught staring and got to her feet on unsteady legs. “Mr. Cody? This is a surprise. Won’t you be seated, or are you in too much of a hurry?” The words had slipped out of their own volition, causing his facial muscles to tighten.
“I deserved that,” he muttered in a grating voice without making a pretense of sitting down.
“It was rude of me to remind you,” she apologized.
“I was rude,” he came right back, “but it wasn’t intentional.”
“I—I’m sure it wasn’t.” Her voice faltered. “I take it the receptionist at the ranch office told you I’d come by to find out if you were the man at the dog parade.”
He cocked his dark head. “Not directly. My mother was the one who conveyed the information. The e-mails I received from her while I was overseas contained nothing but praise for your work on the landscaping. Today I could see why. The monument my father erected would have failed if the setting hadn’t been perfect. You have a gift, Mrs. Olsen.”
The loaded statement told her so much she was aghast. One thing was perfectly clear. Walker Cody wasn’t a man who would bother with a compliment unless he meant it. “Thank you.”
He studied her through enigmatic eyes. “Forgive me for dropping in without an appointment and interrupting your work. I’d like a chance to talk to you, but not here.” Since he wasn’t a client, she didn’t want it to be here, either. “If you’d give me your phone number, I’ll call you.”
Her pulse quickened. It appeared she was going to get the opportunity to thank him properly after all. She wrote her cell-phone number on the back of her business card and handed it to him. He took it without looking at it and slipped it in his shirt pocket.
“Until later,” he murmured before striding out of her office on those long, powerful legs.
She sank back down in her chair, drained by a force she’d never come up against before. In her dazed condition, it shocked her when Louise’s voice sounded through the speaker.
“Line two for you, Paula. It’s Matt Spurling.”
Who?
She shook her head to clear it. “Thanks, Louise.” She pressed the button and picked up. “Hello, Matt.”
“Good morning!” For this early in the day, he sounded too excited to talk to her. “I thought I’d better catch you to remind you about dinner Friday evening.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Angie’s sister had agreed to babysit again. She was earning her money for her pep-club uniform in the fall. “I’ll meet you at the Sunset House at six.” It would probably be her luck that Walker Cody would choose that time to phone her. “If you have any more items for your wish list, bring them.”
“I will. See you then. I’m looking forward to it,” he added in a quieter voice.
“Designing the right landscape for a client is always exciting for me. See you then.” She hung up after intentionally keeping the conversation professional.
It wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear, but the truth was, she still felt as if she was married and Brent was just away on a long trip. Paula’s mother had told her she’d get over that feeling with time, but Paula couldn’t imagine it, not after the kind of happy marriage she’d had with Brent.
As for Walker Cody, his appearance at her office had thrown her off balance because it was so unexpected. By noon she discovered she couldn’t concentrate. Maybe she’d do better at home. Too full of adrenaline to sit there any longer, she grabbed her purse, turned off her computer and went out to the front desk. “Louise? I’m headed for home if Ralph is looking for me.”
/> The older woman nodded. “I’ll let the boss know. Was Mr. Cody here on business for his family?”
“Yes,” Paula lied to avoid undue speculation.
“I didn’t know a man that gorgeous was real.”
Neither did Paula. The fact that she’d never heard Louise comment on any man before, despite the hundreds who’d come through these doors while Paula had worked here, didn’t help her chaotic emotions. “His parents are attractive people. I would imagine it runs in their family. See you later.”
Paula hurried out to her Toyota, not wanting to get into a further discussion of Walker Cody’s looks. Louise had shown a lot of compassion after Brent died, but she had a tendency to gossip. Around the office, Paula preferred to keep her private life to herself and intended it to stay that way.
En route to the apartment her cell phone rang. She clicked it on without checking the caller ID and said hello. Though she doubted it would be Walker this soon after his visit, her heart rate sped up only to subside when she heard her mother-in-law on the other end. Alice wanted her and Clay to drive to Garland on Saturday and spend the day with the family.
Normally Paula would have said yes, but because she didn’t know when Walker would phone and want to meet, she asked if she could get back to her. After they chatted for a few more minutes and said goodbye, Paula realized that in putting Alice off she was behaving exactly like a teenager hung up on a guy.
In those brief seconds when Walker Cody had acted at the dog parade, Paula had to admit something out of the ordinary had happened to her. With hindsight she recognized it for what it was. Widow’s hormones. She’d heard about them—the insidious phenomenon that made fools of women whose baser instincts came out of hiding during their grief.
Strong physical attraction had a lot to answer for.
It couldn’t be anything else. They’d barely met! Even so, it seemed an unconscionable betrayal of Brent’s memory. Filled with guilt, she drove faster, anxious to get home to Clay.
AT THE END OF THE TWO-HOUR appointment on Wednesday, Dr. Bader wrote out a prescription and handed it to Walker. The mild-mannered psychiatrist, probably in his fifties, with thinning dark blond hair, had come as a pleasant surprise to him, probably because he didn’t look like Walker’s idea of the stereotype. “These are what we call a beta-blocker to cut down on the adrenaline when you sleep. They should help you get the nine or ten hours you need.”
Walker couldn’t imagine sleeping that long, but at this point he was ready to try anything.
“I’m here to help you and be your support, but I need to warn you about something. You may suffer from PTSD for the rest of your life, not to the degree or intensity you’re experiencing now, but certain memories will stay with you for the rest of your life.
“The strategies I’ve suggested in this session will eventually help with the number and severity of your episodes. No smoking, no drinking, no tea, no coffee, no recreational drugs. Your nervous system and bloodstream need to be a hundred percent free of chemical agents that automatically set you off.”
Walker nodded. He despised any kind of tea. Drugs and smoking had never been a problem. Denying himself a beer would be a form of deprivation, but he’d go along with the doctor for a while. Coffee was another matter. There was no substitute for it.
“The hiking you’re doing is excellent. Keep it up. You’ve indicated your plan to get back to the rodeo. That will facilitate your recovery in a big way. The important thing is consistent exercise that gets your body moving. Don’t forget five healthy meals a day in portions you can tolerate until you’ve put on the weight you lost. You ought to explore yoga and meditation. There are several places in Cody where you can sign up for classes.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Take a chance and try it. You might like it and find it relaxes you. Besides our weekly sessions on Wednesdays, I’d like you to attend our support group for vets. We meet on Tuesday and Friday nights. Since you’re living alone, it’s important you meet often with others going through the same thing so you don’t think you’re the only freak on the planet.” Bingo.
“Walker, you mentioned you’re close to your older brother. Stay in touch with him every day. You need that bond with a loved one, even if you’re not ready to open up. Keep in mind that through him the rest of the family will be helped. By doing this, you’ll be relieved of a lot of guilt.”
Guilt’s my middle name.
“I’m giving you two drawing tablets and a couple of packs of pastels to get started on your art therapy. You’ll eventually know if you’d rather draw with something else like pen or paint, even crayons.
“The point is, always keep one tablet for the cabin and one for your truck because there’ll be times when you’ll be driving and something will trigger a flashback. It might be a smell, a noise, an accident of some kind. At that moment you’ll need to pull off the road to get control of yourself. One of the best ways to do this is to express what you’re feeling on paper.”
“I’m no good at art.”
“You don’t have to be. No one’s going to judge anything. It’s a form of expression to release the emotions inside you that you can’t explain or put into words yet.
“When you’re at the cabin and restless, start drawing what you see when you think of Iraq. Maybe it’s a camel, or a desert, or a house or a native. Then color inside the outlines to get out your fear, your rage, your helplessness over the women and children you couldn’t help.”
He felt all those emotions and more.
“Every Wednesday when you come to your appointment I want you to bring these tablets and we’ll examine what you’ve done. Don’t throw anything away. We’ll walk through the pictures so your right and left brain can start talking to each other.”
Walker shook his head. “I can’t see doing it.”
“That’s what everyone says until they go through the motions and it begins to take hold. We’ll work on getting you reintegrated so you retain your skills. You need to become a whole person again and look at every aspect of your personality with appreciation and respect.”
That would be the day.
Dr. Bader stood up. “We’ve accomplished a lot today. Let me know if you can make Friday’s session. We start at 7:00 p.m. and quit at nine. Your family, your brother, or anyone else close to you—a friend or girlfriend—all will be welcome to join us. It’ll be well worth your time.
“Keep one more thing in mind. Until you’ve decided on a career, the best way to make use of your time is to give service to any number of organizations or to one person who could use your individual help.”
“I’ll think about it.” Walker rose to his feet and shook the other man’s hand. “Thank you for your help, but I’m afraid you’re working with a lost cause.”
The older doctor eyed him compassionately. “That’s what most returning vets say on their first visit with me. One of my patients came home from Iraq after surviving an ambush that took out eight of his buddies. In a word, he’s an exploding ball of hate. But with therapy, he’ll do much better.”
With that sobering revelation, Walker left the clinic needing relief after the heavy session he’d had with the doctor. Paula Olsen’s image always hovered in the background of his mind. His first act of service would be to offer his condolences to the widow whose husband didn’t make it home.
Pulling out the new cell phone he’d been forced to buy, he reached for his wallet where he’d put her business card. With an urgency that surprised even him, he found himself calling her.
Chapter Four
May 5
Paula had just put Clay down for his afternoon nap on Wednesday when she heard her cell phone ring. Every time the music played she wondered, even though she’d ordered herself not to think.
Tiptoeing out of his room, she hurried to the dining room where she’d left her phone next to her computer. The caller ID said Unknown, which meant anyone could be on the other end.
“
Hello?”
“Mrs. Olsen? Walker Cody here.” His deep male voice penetrated to her insides.
Her pulse raced. “How are you, Mr. Cody?”
“I’ll be better if you call me Walker. After learning you’re on a first-name basis with my parents, it shouldn’t be that difficult. Mind if I call you Paula?”
She clutched the phone tighter. “No. Of course not.”
“Good. I’ve been in Powell and will be driving into Cody in about ten minutes. If I came by your office, would you be able to get away for a quick lunch so we could talk?”
So far she’d discovered him to be a spur-of-the-moment man. Now you see him, now you don’t. If she wanted to spend even five minutes with him to give him the gift she’d bought, she needed to act immediately or live to regret her hesitation.
“I didn’t go into the office today. Fortunately for me I do eighty percent of my work at home so I can be with Clay. Since he’s just gone down for his nap, would you like to come by my apartment? I was just about to make myself a tuna-fish sandwich. How does that sound?”
It felt like a lifetime before he said, “I haven’t had one of those in years.”
“I take it that’s a yes. I live in a fourplex on East Oak, number 368, south side of the street. My apartment is upstairs on the right.”
“I’ll be there shortly.” He clicked off.
Galvanized into action, Paula hurried into the bedroom to change into a fresh cotton top in a pale pink color with short sleeves. She’d leave on her jeans. Luckily she’d showered and washed her hair that morning while Clay was still playing in his crib.
After applying a frosted pink lipstick and running the brush through her hair, she hurried over to the dresser where the little gift sat in the drawer. She took it to the kitchen and started fixing lunch. When everything was ready, she set the drop-leaf table with two place mats and put his gift next to his glass.
Walker: The Rodeo Legend Page 5
