Doc grumbled and jumped on the bed. I turned to the side, and he snuggled close, sighing. I realized I had the nightmares when the pup wasn’t sleeping with me.
Twenty minutes later, I drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Thirty Five
The next three weeks became routine: slowly going through every sheet of paper in the hidden room, followed by working with Five Alarm for a couple of hours. I settled into the schedule with a sense of relief.
We opened the last cabinet and found three of the four drawers filled with paperwork surrounding Germany. Over the last three weeks, I’d gotten to know the Ambassador and his detail. Peter had a very dry sense of humor, and while his detail looked like muscle, most were well educated and highly intelligent. They’d taken to eating breakfast and lunch with us, and I learned about the whole government side of the horrors I’d lived.
Peter was free with information about my mother. Her likes and dislikes, and how, when she died, they found one room dedicated to me. Fraulein Gertrude Habsburg never married, nor had more children. She’d secluded herself in a valley of the Austrian mountains, in a small two bedroom home, breeding and raising horses, Ringing Alarm among them. Among the possessions found, the Purple Heart I’d earned in Fallujah, the one I’d thought stolen not long after my return. Beneath the medal rested over four hundred letters and pictures, from my father. Strangely, it filled a hole in my heart I hadn’t known was there.
In the news, the Senator was being held for treason. The German government was cleared, as were Aiden and I.
Leaving Rupert.
His mother was also being held, and I had an appointment with the DA. Maria had other appointments, Brent and Aiden were out of town. I would have to drive the three hours to Denver on my own.
The Jeep Grand Cherokee was filled to the brim with safety features, and all the creature comforts known to man. It had a key fob, but no key. I pushed the button to unlock it, and reached in to push the start button. The V8 roared to life and I took several steps back. I paced in front of the vehicle, an effort to gather the courage. I had not driven a vehicle since the ill-fated truck in Montana.
Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath, and jumped in, adjusting the seat, putting on my seat belt and sitting in the driveway, arguing with myself. “You can do this. You’ve driven for years.” I swallowed against the lump in my throat and put the Jeep in gear.
From Laramie to Cheyenne, it was basically clear, and an easy enough hour or so drive. But as I prepared to leave the I-80 and go south on the I-25, tendrils of worry wove through my brain. I followed the signs, watched my speed, and tensed as the traffic increased. My breathing came fast and harsh.
I got up to speed and put on the cruise control. I pushed a button on the screen, telling the radio to put on the music from my phone’s playlist. A few new Indie bands popped on the screen, and I chose September Sky.
The song started out light, becoming a pounding tune, and I sang with the lyrics. My shoulders dropped a little, and I stayed in the left lane, going a steady seventy-five miles per hour. Traffic came and went, but as I closed in on Fort Collins, the interstate became congested.
Worry turned into full blown panic. I was surrounded by cars and trucks of every description, many giving me dirty looks, or the New York State bird, if I didn’t get out of the way fast enough. I would shatter at any moment. Too many distractions, I couldn’t see what they were going to do. I pulled onto the shoulder, throwing the Jeep into park, leaning my head on the steering wheel, shaking so badly I couldn’t focus.
A knock on my window made me scream and I leapt over the console, trying to get out of the car.
An officer with the Colorado Highway Patrol, stood by the driver’s side window, wearing a worried expression. But reality was overlaid with the past, and while I knew it was an officer, I saw Johnny’s leering face.
I curled into the seat, hands up to defend myself. The sounds of Five’s screams, the feel of the truck going into a slide filled my mind, agony of the past shot through my limbs and internal organs.
I don’t know how long the blackout lasted, but when reality returned, I was surrounded with police vehicles. People were rubber necking, and I had a headache from blushing.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?” An older officer, a knowing light in his gray blue eyes. “Ma’am, would you mind rolling down a window? Please?”
Despite the humiliation of a public display of my vulnerabilities, I pushed a button. He and two other officers walked around the front of the Jeep, standing back from the window.
“I’m Officer Martin Mayers. Ma’am, do you need me to call someone?” his voice low, hands where I could see them.
“N-n-no, sir. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. I haven’t driven in heavy traffic in a long time,” I whispered, looking at my hands.
“You are Captain Barnes, is that correct?” He asked, taking a step forward.
“I was, now I’m just Karen Barnes, officer.” I offered a weak smile.
“Ma’am, I don’t think you are ready to drive on your own yet. I get off work in thirty minutes. Would you allow me to drive you?”
“Do you do this for everyone that has a panic attack while driving?”
“If I need to, yes. I’ve been in your shoes.”
I held his gaze, and instincts said yes, he was a man of worth. He gave me the same vibe as Aiden. I nodded slowly.
“I’m going to get in, and we’ll drive to the station. It won’t take long. My partner will drive the cruiser. Is that okay with you, Ms. Barnes?” He waited.
I pushed the unlock button.
Chapter Thirty Six
Officer Mayers was true to his word. He drove to the station, and I waited in the Jeep. I called the DA, let him know what happened, and would be late.
“Officer Martin Mayers of the Colorado Highway Patrol? Wow, that is one hell of an escort, Ms. Barnes.” He hung up.
Officer Mayers walked out of the station wearing jeans, a denim button down, hair brushed and carrying a duffel bag. He held it up and indicated the back. I nodded.
Once he was inside and buckled, he turned, “Where are we going?”
“I-I-I, uh, have an appointment with the DA in Denver.” I sucked in my lips and bit down.
He nodded and we left.
It remained quiet for the first ten minutes.
“How long has it been since you’ve been behind the wheel, Ms. Barnes?” He drove smoothly, navigating the growing traffic.
I closed my eyes to the multitude of cars and people. The Jeep was well insulated, and the quiet a balm. “Um, five months? Six? I’m losing track of time.” I rubbed my forehead.
“Explains why you are having a hard time. It took me two months of dirt roads, a month of rarely used paved roads, and another six before I tried to tackle a highway.” He didn’t look at me, voice low, calm, almost monotonous.
“So I’m a moron, right?” I sounded defensive.
“No. I think you jumped the gun a little early, considering all you’ve been through.” He gave a reassuring smile.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I shrugged. “How do you know everything I’ve been through?”
“News, reports, I have friends in Laramie that knew the officer who tried to kill you in the hospital.”
“What happened to you?”
He ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair, “About four years ago I was on a call to a car accident. What we didn’t know cost us lives. A man kidnapped his ex-wife and two young daughters, tried killing everyone by running off a bridge. The mother was dead, but the little girls were still living, as well as the man. Long story short, it ended in a gun battle, four officers seriously injured, my partner shot in the head, and a cruiser was stolen. We had a high speed chase toward the Wyoming border. I was closest when he slammed on the brakes, and I hit him.”
“Yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t want to drive, and the issues of seeing something like that.” I stared out th
e window.
He nodded and quietly navigated. He was right, and I didn’t want to admit it. I’d become comfortable in the little bubble outside of Laramie, and jumped into the middle of a crowd before I’d learned to deal with it.
The glass, steel, and concrete building stood in the midday light, reflecting the sun’s rays. It was rounded, and a stunning example of architecture. Modern, clean lines, yet welcoming.
We parked in a nearby structure and walked to the DA’s office. Officer Mayers walked two steps behind, and I glanced over a shoulder. I waited for the sound of gunfire. I walked faster, wanting to get out of the parking garage and into the sun.
I breathed a sigh of relief, tilting my face into the sun’s rays. I didn’t linger, instead heading toward the DA office. At the front doors, I stopped again, taking deep breaths and counting. I opened the door and steeled for the meeting.
Three hours later, I left the building, stopped on the sidewalk and bent over, hands on knees. Officer Mayers stood nearby, in a relaxed stance. The sun was going down, but it was strong enough to warm my back and help regain the lost composure.
We left, Mayers navigating evening traffic as I studiously ignored it. I switched on the satellite radio, to a station known for pounding hard rock. It soothed the nerves, gave me something else to concentrate on.
“We’re passing Fort Collins now. It should be fairly smooth sailing from here on out.” Mayers’s voice startled me out of a train of thought.
“If you want, we can drop you off at home, and I think I can drive from here. It’s the heavy traffic that sends me into panic.” I looked at his profile, seeing the masculine lines of a strong chin, a nose that showed signs of having been broken a time or two, and cheekbones most would kill to have. I realized he was very good looking, and I’d completely missed the fact.
“Are you sure?” He turned his gray blue eyes on me, and I was helpless to look away. For the first time, in a very long time, I felt the stirrings of attraction.
“Yes.” I watched the disappearing landscape of rolling hills and prairie grass dotted with the occasional house.
He took the next exit and within moments, we were in front of cute little house, painted medium gray, real shutters painted a dark blue next to every window, and a Mediterranean blue door. The tiny front lawn was well landscaped and manicured, and a natural stone pathway led to a fenced backyard. It looked heavenly.
He put the vehicle in park and turned to face me. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. I’ve been where you are.” He handed over a small business card, and got out.
I waited for him to go inside, noticing the strong, muscular lines for the first time. After he shut the door, I scrambled into the driver’s seat. I put the business card in the console, I wanted to do some research.
The drive home was calmer, and a lot more peaceful. I didn’t see many cars, and as darkness descended, I relaxed, happy to not see the hustle and bustle of Cheyenne. I-80 traffic was almost non-existent, and as I pulled into the long driveway at home, relief washed over me in a great wave.
I slept, with only a few nightmares, none of which woke me screaming. I considered it a win.
I spent the next morning in the bunker. With the last of the room cleared, and all the paperwork out, I shut it down. Stepping into the stables, and punching in the last code, a huge weight fell off.
In the stable’s storage room, I grabbed the necessary gear, and a big bandana. I needed to work with Five Alarm, who was coming along slowly. He no longer lunged at me, and he would follow easily into the arena. He’d begun to listen to my cues, submitting in the ring.
I took him out of the stall, putting him into the cross ties. He cocked a back foot, let his head drop a little. I pulled out the bandana and waved it around his good eye. He threw his head several times, and I didn’t let up until he quit, instead reaching to smell it. I waved it again, going until he ignored it. I rubbed his face, and he didn’t flinch. I folded it and covered his good eye, tying it under his cheeks. He snorted, but didn’t move. I talked and whistled, letting him hear, feel and smell me. It took several moments until he calmed, and I put on the lunge line, unhooking the cross ties. I backed into his face, an old trick taught to him as a young colt. He centered his face along my spine, and I walked forward.
I put him in the round pen, walking the circle twelve times. Slowly, I walked away, until I stood in the middle. Time to test a theory.
I clicked my tongue, and whistled. He took a step forward, followed by two more, until he was walking the circle. He bumped the iron railings twice, but soon settled into an even gate.
I moved him around the pen fifteen times before asking him to change directions. He froze. I repeated the walk around the pen, nose to spine.
Two hours later, with lots of praise and smiling, he was released into a small corral.
Aiden stood on the fencing, watching as I rubbed Five’s body from tip to tail, alert for signs of an incoming kick. For the first time in months, I was allowed to touch all over, no skin twitching, or spooking, or trying to kick me.
I left the corral, shading my eyes from the sun. “How ya doin’?” I smiled.
“Watching you get back into the rhythm of training. Well done.” His expression was full of pride, but in the background, a little sadness.
“What’s up? I know that look,” I pointed.
“Time for me to go home, Karen.”
I stared, trying to form a sentence.
“Honey, you’ve stopped requiring a night light. The nightmares aren’t sending you hiding in the closet. The panic at driving was natural, but I’m fairly sure you’ll keep pushing the limits. You’re working Five Alarm, and I saw you take the new colt out the other day. You finally took steps forward, on your own. I’m not needed any longer.” He stepped down and hugged me. “You know, in the beginning, I was attracted to you. But instead, you are my best friend, and I like it that way.”
I wrapped arms around his waist, holding tight. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re one of the few points of sanity in my life.”
“You are making new ones.” He kissed the top of my head.
“When are you leaving?” I sniffled into his shirt.
“This weekend. The house needs cleaned and aired out. It’s been closed up since Dad died several years ago and I was traipsing around the world. I’ve notified the caretaker.” He pulled away, an arm around my waist and guiding me to the house.
“I found the deed, by the way, this morning as I went through some papers stacked in the new office. I’m going to sign it all over to you. It’s the least I can do.” I squeezed his waist. “And don’t argue.”
“Do you hear me arguing?” he laughed.
“I’m also handing Maverick’s colt over to you. Start over, my friend. Brent has the paperwork.”
We walked into the house, and yet another weight fell away.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Doc licked my cheek and I woke up, with a lemon face. “Eww! Don’t lick me,” I growled. Swinging my feet out of bed, elbows on knees, and hands buried in my now long, thick hair. Curls fell in a disarray, and I blew a few out of the way.
Aiden left a month ago, but Mayers visited often. We had a date the next weekend. My first foray into a crowded area. The idea left me terrified.
Five Alarm would let me blindfold him, and go for short rides, trusting my signals to keep him safe. But soon, very soon, I had to begin the process of bomb proofing him. Brent and I were setting up a different round pen, full of everything that could spook a horse. Noises, unfamiliar objects, even an old car wash mitter curtain. We laid out a grid so he’d relearn distance. His perception was off, but he was moving forward nicely.
I took Fire’s Fuel out every day, letting the run push worries to the back of my mind. I’d come to rely on the daily rides, the training of the horses, to keep me sane, to shove the demons out of the way.
I tried to resume a normal life. I went grocery shopping, al
though either very early in the morning or late at night. Crowds left me shaking and in constant fear. I tried a matinee, but left before the start of the movie, the darkness creating a panic attack. I even tried to go to the nearby McAllister’s Deli, only to find I’d managed to hit it between University of Wyoming’s classes. I was surrounded by college kids, all hungry from their studies, talking, laughing, and crowding me. I’d left and sat in my driveway for an hour.
After a shower and getting dressed for the day, I met Maria in the kitchen for coffee. She’d insisted on one of those new Keurigs, and bought all the fun stuff to go with it. I brewed my usual, humming over the smell and taste of caffeine working its way into my system. We shared breakfast, and I headed to the stables.
I stopped, looking at the doors. Something was wrong, off. I was very particular about how I did everything, yet there was a three inch gap between the doors. I went into the house, found Brent with a cup of coffee, and told him to follow me.
We stopped in front of the door leading directly into the stable office. I opened it quietly, noting none of the lights were on. The door opened on well-oiled hinges and we moved quietly from the office into the main aisle. I could hear several of the horses shuffling their feet, a sure sign of a disturbance. I turned to Brent, pointing two fingers at my eyes, then the slightly open doors. He nodded and tip-toed in that direction.
I moved slowly, on the balls of my feet, sideways, and peeked around the corner. A storage closet door was open, one with valuable tack, and a hidden filing cabinet filled with paperwork guaranteed to keep any government off my back.
Fear skittered along my spine, and I looked up and down the aisle for anyone trying to hide in the corners. I left the office, memories surfacing, feeding the fear. Sounds of the past tried to take over my hearing, and I covered my ears, pulling back from the corner. I shook my head, screaming inside for it to stop, to let me find out what was happening.
Fractured Steel Page 18
