A Scarred Soul: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 2) (6 page)

“It must be hell.”

“It’s one of them.”

“One of them?”

“I have a lot of ‘hells’, Lulah. I’m best avoided.” He pushed his chair back and started to clear the plates. “Hope this didn’t burn too badly,” he added.

Lulah placed her hand over his wrist as he reached for her utensils. “Leave those. The chef never has to clear up. You haven’t had time in the barn yet. You go, and I’ll clear these away. Would you like me to bring you a coffee later?”

He nodded, and headed out the door. Lulah watched him cross the yard followed by Calliope who dropped in behind him, inches from his left knee, as soon as she noticed him head for the porch stairs.

Those little snippets he revealed tonight confirmed for her that Vince was in no-man’s land. She started clearing the dishes. Would it help Vince if he could gain some access to Gable or would he blow that again? In the end, the child had to be safe, and nobody knew how safe Vince was.

She left him for a couple of hours before taking him coffee and brownies she’d made the day before. “No chili in these, so I hope they’re hot enough for you. Is here okay?” she asked as she placed the tray on a clean area of the workbench.

Vince watched her from a place where he had a block of wood secured in a vise. In one hand, he held a chisel. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

“What are you making?”

“Something for Gable. This is the wagon I told you about. She was having so much fun playing with it so I’m going to fix it up for her.”

He had cleaned up the barn to make the workshop functional and comfortable, and Lulah went to the corner where he’d arranged a couple of armchairs and a small table near the window. She sat and noticed the view back up to her porch. Joker had followed her in and now lay on a rug beside a bed Vince had obviously crafted for Calliope. Heck, everything he touched was beautiful. She watched him carving, the muscles in his forearms all play and power beneath his tattoos.

“Don’t forget Mike from the service dog center is coming. Training will be more serious now. He’s bringing a couple of dogs who have almost finished training, and he’s going to help bring Calliope up to speed. He’ll be at the Sanctuary Monday morning, and so will you and Calliope, yeah?”

He kept his back to her when he spoke. “Did I agree to that?”

“Sure you did.”

“I don’t remember...”

“Blame the medication.”

“I’m not taking my medication.”

“Perhaps you should.”

Vince dropped the sanding block on the workbench and took a step towards her, making her shift more upright in the armchair. “So you think Zombie-Vince is preferable to this?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “No, I doubt it.”

“Sure about that?” He took another step.

She could hardly breathe, and if he came much closer, her heart would stop. “I’m not sure about anything right now,” she said softly. She and Vince had hung out on occasion for months. But whatever happened between them recently changed their casual friendship, and suddenly, any time she was in his vicinity, the air became scarce and her heart jumped about like that of a hunted rabbit.

There was still space between Vince and the door, and staying with the rabbit thing, she jumped to her feet and called Joker.

“Lulah, wait.”

Oh, hell.

“I go to the Farmers Market each Saturday. Why don’t we go together?”

Yeah, why not? The Farmers Market would be perfectly safe, not a date, just a shopping trip. “Nice idea, let’s do that.”

“Good, I’ll pick you up at nine.”

“Sounds perfect. Good night, Vince.”

“Sleep tight, Lulah.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. Sleep was unlikely, at least until she settled herself.

“
Q
uick
, Vince, the relish and pickles have almost sold out.” Lulah grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of her favorite preserves stall. She hadn’t visited the Halo Peak Farmers Market for some months, and she was down to the last half-inch in a jar of Mrs. Mueller’s amazing relish. At her stall, they tasted the samples, joking and laughing until Vince caught her, suggesting she try the most wicked jelly, without any warning as to its heat level.

“This is genuine UHT relish,” he said as he placed a sample on her tongue.

She gasped as the fiery bite of eye-watering preserve blasted her mouth. Swallowing quickly, Lulah coughed. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Vince,” she warned.

“I thought you’d like Ultra Hot Tomato relish,” he teased.

“I couldn’t find any tomato in that. Just blistering heat. What is it?”

Vince picked up the test pot and read the label. “Ah, you’re right, there is no tomato; it’s Habañero Pepper Jelly.” He replaced the pot and grinned at her. “Come on, let me make it up to you with something sweet.”

“All right, but I get to choose. Follow me.” She led him through a shortcut to a stall where a young woman had for the past year tempted the market crowd with both classic and unique hand-made chocolates.

“Lulah! I haven’t seen you for such a long time.”

“Too long, I know, Jess. I’ve been busy at work.”

“You call that work?” Jess indicated towards Vince.

“Oh, you’ve no idea how much work he is,” Lulah replied.

“If he’s what’s kept you busy on Saturday mornings, he sounds like exactly the sort of work you need.”

Lulah made introductions and watched Vince work his magic on Jess. When he was on form, he charmed her, and Lulah felt a rush of pleasure at being in his company.

“I want to seduce Vince with one of your chocolates…I meant, seduce him into becoming a fan of yours.” Boy, did that ever come out wrong, and the way Vince looked at her now made her cheeks hot. “Vince, close your eyes while I choose a chocolate for you.”

Perhaps he felt guilty for having scoured her taste buds with the chili because he complied without hesitation. From the display, Lulah chose a chocolate which she allowed to warm a little in her hand. “I have to tell you, these are exquisite chocolates. Jess roasts and hand-grinds her own cacao beans so her chocolate is rich and bitter. This one I’ve chosen has a rosewater ganache with ground pistachios. It’s not the most exotic, and it’s certainly not what you would call a classic truffle, but the way the delicate rose comes through at the end to linger on your palate is heavenly. Even though you’re a man, I think you’ll appreciate it.”

On the other side of the table, Jess almost doubled-over, doing her best to suppress her laughter.

Lulah raised the chocolate to Vince’s mouth, painting his lips with one careful swipe. “Uh-uh,” she warned as he opened to take it in. “Taste that smear first.” She’d carefully brushed his mouth with only the rich coating. He slipped his tongue across it, tasted it, and smiled.

“Very good.”

“Ready for more?”

“You bet.”

“The best way to enjoy this is to hold it in your mouth, let the outer, more bitter chocolate melt across your tongue, and allow the layers of sweetness to slowly reveal themselves.” She popped it into his mouth, watching him hold the chocolate as she’d instructed. On her tiptoes, she spoke near his ear. “Suck it gently while I count to five, Vince, then sink your teeth in to bite through.” She turned to the Jess and winked.

Lulah counted to five, reminded Vince to bite gently, and waited.

His eyes flew open. “Jesus, Lulah!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full; now swallow,” she teased.

Vince gulped like a seagull. “What the hell was that?”

The women broke into fits of laughter. Jess recovered first and answered. “Wasabi, seaweed, ginger, and black sesame. It’s really rather nice, under the right circumstances, but I can’t imagine what it tasted like if you were expecting something sweet.”

“It tasted like the bottom of a goldfish bowl…with horseradish.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” Jess smiled. “Let me put a few together that might be more to your liking. They add a certain flourish to a romantic evening.”

Lulah could feel her cheeks warming again. The idea of a romantic evening with Vince was something she’d thought about a lot recently. Was it that obvious to Jess or had she presumed some sort of relationship because they were here at the market together?

Jess handed the bag to Vince. “No charge, as long as you make that woman happy. And if you think my chocolates helped, be sure to tell your friends.”

After thanking her, they moved along, and this time, Vince led the way. “Nice trick, Lulah, especially after building the idea of the sweet chocolate in my mind. Way more sophisticated than my clumsy attempt with the chili.”

“A touch of finesse wins every time.”

Vince wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in to plant a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Thanks, Lulah, this is fun.”

“Are you doing okay with the crowds?”

“I’m doing great. I’m ignoring the crowds and concentrating on you. Come this way; there is something I’d like you to see.”

Adjacent to the covered area of the market was an open field where several carnival rides set up. She was surprised that he bypassed the more thrilling rides, the shooting gallery, and strength games to take her directly to the carousel.

“Did you ever ride the carousel?”

“Yeah, I did. Dad sometimes helped out at fairs when I was a kid. I loved the carousel.”

“Your favorite animal?

“Definitely a dog I once rode. My other favorite was a porpoise. I don’t know why, because I’d never visited the ocean, but its lines were so sleek. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m a traditionalist. I love the horses. My Granddad made carousel animals, carved them from wood. I think I enjoyed watching him, learning how to do it, more than actually riding the carousel. Recently, I’ve been trying my hand again at wood carving. I have one of Granddad’s horses to restore that I found at the back of a car wrecker’s yard. And somebody tracked me down online, from a wood carving forum where I go sometimes, and they’re sending me a tiger they want restored. I’m going to try making one from scratch, too. Although I’ve done graphic design, I prefer working directly with my hands over using a computer.” They’d now reached the carousel. “Come on, there’s not much of a line; let’s have a ride.”

The ride was safari park themed, and they stood back, waiting for the children to barter it out over the elephant, tiger, and lion. When the children were settled, Vince told Lulah to pick her ride. She chose a hummingbird, and once she’d straddled it, Vince took her hands, wrapping them around the pole, before he took the antelope alongside her. The music started, and the carousel set off in its counter-clockwise direction with children waving and calling out to their camera-wielding parents. Lulah didn’t think she’d ever seen Vince so relaxed.

At the end of the ride, they dismounted, Vince taking a moment to run his hand over the lines of the antelope. “Did you ever want to have one of the carousel animals at home with you, so that you could ride it all the time?” He continued before she had a chance to answer him. “You see, here,” he pointed to the antelope’s legs, “you can affix a set of rockers, and it makes a piece for a child to play on.”

“An adult, too,” Lulah said.

He turned and grinned at her. “I’m going to make one. I’ll draw something up and show you.”

A few yards away a balloon burst, and Vince jumped, grabbing her, and pulling her with him. In a flash, he apologized for his reaction. “Always the risk at a place like this, sorry, Lulah.”

“No problem, are you alright?” She watched as he slipped a few glances around then came back to her.

“Yeah, I’m good, but I’m ready to leave. Do you mind if I wait for you in the pickup?”

“It’s fine. I’m ready to head home, too.” He took her hand, his a little clammy, as they went behind the rides towards the car park.

“Let’s make dinner together tonight, and after, we can have a game of chocolate roulette.”

“Blindfolded?”

“Lulah, behave.” Vince laughed.

He was right, but if she was going to behave, she shouldn’t even be having him over for dinner.

V
ince arrived home after midnight
. Earlier that evening, when Lulah headed off to bed, he’d moved his pickup to the end of her drive so that when he left the barn to drive home, he wouldn’t disturb her. It distracted him for a while, thinking about her across the yard, asleep there on the porch, but as he concentrated more on the carving that was to sit across the rear of Gable’s wagon, Lulah slipped out of his mind.

He was creating a replica of his tattoo that Gable loved to examine. The one with her name on it. He designed another piece to go along one side of the wagon where he would carve Donkey and sunflowers like those she’d painted for him, around the trim. The middle he would leave as a blank space for Gable to paint in whatever she wished.

He opened the back door to his house and let Calliope enter first, watching her ears, the line of hair along her spine, her tail, to see if she alerted to anything. He smiled a little when he realized that he already assigned her some of the duties of a service dog. She padded over to her water bowl and took a long drink. Clearly, there was no threat in the kitchen. Vince followed her and refreshed the water when she’d finished.

He felt edgy. Something about having Lulah in the barn for an hour that evening calmed him more than the focus of his work, and even after she’d left the barn, that tranquil aura stayed behind. It was her. She helped him get closer to locating that place of peace he wanted to believe existed somewhere within him. If he tried harder, if he became a better, more worthy man, maybe he’d find that place, too. The idea of a minute of peace was intoxicating.

He managed three hours of sleep before the nightmare kicked in. It took longer these nights to pull out of the dream state. Repeatedly he thought he’d woken, only to find himself back in the chaos, the stench of bodies, torn flesh, blood, the screaming, the wailing of the little girl. Finally he was there, on his bed, panting and tangled in sheets soaked through with his sweat, stinking of his fear.

He stripped his bed of the sodden linen and filled the washing machine, and went through to the small sitting room. In darkness, he put himself through a punishing workout, a warrior routine that would keep him safe. Ready for battle.

In the shower he soaped himself, leaned against the wall, eyes closed, and let the water wash over him. If he concentrated he could imagine it felt like a caress, and if he took those thoughts a bit further he could have Lulah in the shower with him. He reached for the tap and flicked it to cold to make his heart lurch and bitch at him, breathing through it, and waiting for the pounding to settle.

When he brewed his coffee, he was still wired. The barbs of his nightmare clawed at his thoughts, his soul ensnared in recriminations he tried not to let follow him out of the inky night. He slipped into bargaining mode, telling the nightmare he would revisit the next time he attempted sleep but,
please, stay out of my days.

He hated the futility of arguing with the various bits of his psyche he couldn’t quite pull together and make whole. Though not yet seven a.m., Vince was already fractured and exhausted.

At the table, he picked through the small stack of mail that he’d ignored for a couple of days. Mostly utility bills, appointments with people who would remind him what a screw-up he was, and something from a company with so many surnames it had to be a law firm.

With a steady hand he reached for a knife to slide along the seal of the envelope. The thick wad of papers he pulled out stilled him. Nothing in his life would change until he unfolded the papers and read the contents.

Jesus Christ
.

An ache pushed at his skull. It had been held at bay by Lulah’s calm and his carving, but now it came rampaging through. He knew he should get to the medicine cabinet, take the drugs before the pain took hold, but he couldn’t stop staring at the wad of papers.

He didn’t recall opening them, smoothing them flat to the table, trapping with his hands the corners that wanted to fold back up and hide the message, but when he studied the papers their words spoke right back. Taryn had filed for divorce.

Why was it such a surprise? Why did it feel like another thump in the gut when he expected it all along? He wanted to do the decent thing and bring some peace to his family. It would allow Gable to grow up without him affecting her. The papers slipped from his grasp, back to the table. They had to be read. There would be conditions and terms that he should become familiar with, but what the heck? He’d already told Taryn she could have what she wanted. There wasn’t much of him left, but they were welcome to pick over the waste of what remained.

A glance at the wall clock told him it was past time to leave for the Sanctuary, so he called Calliope to his side and headed out to the pickup. It wasn’t until he started the engine he realized he’d completed the exercise without performing his usual anxious yard reconnaissance. And it wasn’t till the thudding set up in his head that he realized he’d never made it to the medicine cabinet. Calliope threw him a concerned look from the footwell of the vehicle. He had to slow down because he was scaring the only friend he had left.

There was Lulah, of course, but surely she’d distance herself as soon as she saw the real Vince.

At the Sanctuary he parked up by Marlo’s office rather than down at the HQ where most of the dog training work took place. Apparently he had to meet with the service dog trainer before actual training began. He climbed from the truck and could see everyone waiting for him: Marlo, Lulah, a guy who must be the trainer, heck, even Adam.

He flunked his way through the introductions trying to focus on listening, watching Calliope, and keeping the pain in his head to a minimum. His anxiety stretched his limits and he knew he was close to a state where a flashback wouldn’t come as a surprise. In minutes, from a subconscious need to protect himself, he’d dissociated.

There he was, back as
security camera guy
—watching, but not taking part. He hoped nobody would notice, but Marlo spoke to him, her voice floating, away in the distance. Calliope thunked her head into his lap, and he placed his hand on her, feeling her warmth. But, dammit, he couldn’t pull himself out of that corner.

Suddenly he heard Lulah curse.
Oh, bad girl, Lulah. No dirty language in front of handsome, totally-got-his-shit-together, Mike, the dog trainer.
She approached him, he could smell her and, at the same speed as he’d left, he was back. Lulah reached out to touch his shoulder, and he heard Adam warn her not to crowd him.

Misery washed through him like a dirty tide. He wanted to leave, hating feeling this way, like the lunatic at the picnic. He stood, easing his thigh out from beneath the press of Calliope’s head. “Sorry,” he spoke to the space on the floor a foot ahead of him, “I have to go.”

In that moment, Adam was alongside him. He took hold of his sleeve, out of the view of the others in the room, and bent close to his ear. “Hey, Vince, where are you at the moment?”

Vince stared back at him, his mouth dry, the smell of dust in his nostrils. “I’m nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.”

Adam tugged his sleeve. “Okay. You and I are stepping outside for a couple of minutes for you to take some air, and when you’ve recovered, we’re coming back in here. Understand?”

It sounded so close to a threat that Vince wanted to thump him. “This isn’t going well,” he replied through clenched teeth.

Adam hadn’t moved or released him. “And that’s why we’re stepping out together.” He turned to the others in the room. “Give us a minute, will you?”

Vince felt like the bad kid in the classroom, and he rounded on Adam as soon as they were away from the office. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“I’m not treating you like one, but you needed a breather and I’m following along to make sure you return to the office rather than climbing in your pickup and driving off. Okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. Now, go through your breathing routine and let me know when you’re back.”

“And if I don’t?”
Yep, now he was the child.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, Lulah is sitting in that room, wishing and praying that this is all going to turn out fine.”

“Which is precisely why I don’t need the pressure of this.”

“Come on, Vince. There’s a lot riding on this for you, for Lulah. Ultimately, it’s taking pressure
off
you. Now, will you do the breathing thing before I call Marlo out here to take a stick to you?”

Yeah, he could do it. He could do it for Gable, and for Lulah. As he breathed and made himself take note of his surroundings, his anxiety reduced. The dirty tide still sloshed at his inner shore, but he knew he’d make it through the next couple of hours.

Mike had a ton of questions, and some of them felt pretty intrusive. At one stage Vince suggested they request his file from his counselor at the VA. The room went silent. “Honestly, I’d much prefer it to sitting here dredging all this up.” With insistence from Adam, Mike decided they had enough to go on and if any issues they hadn’t covered cropped up, they’d deal with them at the time.

They shifted to the large exercise yard behind the quarantine area where they could train in private and Vince showed him the basic obedience exercises he and Calliope had worked on. Mike gave them some tips, and left them a bunch of homework. Vince watched while Mike walked away with Lulah to discuss a full training plan, his mood darkening as the pair disappeared in the direction of HQ. The other guy would win the girl; fair enough, because he had nothing to offer her.

He called Calliope and decided to head over to Lulah’s barn. The restoration job had arrived, and if he started on the planning, he could forget about all this other stuff. He entered the barn, and inhaled its soft cool air.

The wood for the carving for Gable’s wagon lay on the workbench, the design traced out and ready for his chisel. He cast a quick and critical eye across the drawings he’d finished the previous evening, but couldn’t gather enough enthusiasm to start on the work. When he sat in the armchair Lulah inhabited the night before, Calliope lowered herself to the floor at his feet.

That was hell at the Dog Sanctuary. One-on-one with a therapist was bad enough, but he felt as though he was up against four of them today and the entire experience left him jittery. Each of them had different expectations of him. And now the fucking divorce papers. If Taryn could strike him from her life with a pen stroke, why couldn’t someone write away his pain?

He didn’t know how he could live through the possibility of Gable being kept permanently from him.

Still in the armchair, hours later, he watched as Lulah arrived on her bike at the cabin, and a short time after left in her car. His breath stuttered. An intense tingle rippled through his chest and arms, as if his skin contracted, wakening peripheral nerves, and relaxed. A palpable response to seeing her, and the fact that he felt something made everything loud, then very low, as if someone had jacked his volume switch.

Having wanted to
feel
for so long it now played like a nasty trick, like something quenching and delicious on the other side of the razor-wire fence.

Tonight was yoga night. Intuitively, Lulah seemed to understand that he wouldn’t be going with her as he often did. Either that, or she was so pissed at him she didn’t want him to wreck her calm.

Sometimes he hated that yoga. Hated the allowances put on for him that reinforced what a jerk he was. The open closet doors were so that he wouldn’t spend the entire session fretting about what hid within the room’s blind spots. He could feel the watch of the others as he tried his best not to scan the room before he lay down, but never succeeded.

Hell, they wanted him to lie there with his eyes closed. Seriously?

He should get out of the chair and start on the restoration, or the carving on Gable’s wagon. In his mind he pulled up her smile, her joy when she towed the wagon around the yard until the awful moment of what had occurred tumbled in.

Fuck it. Why couldn’t he run through a single happy memory without the intrusion of war? His head fell to his hands and he started to rock.

He couldn’t continue like this. He stood and Calliope came immediately to his side, following him as he grabbed a pen and paper from his workbench, then out to the pickup to retrieve her leash. They went to Lulah’s porch and Vince sat at her table and wrote a note.

He tied Calliope to the porch railing. Joker was inside the cabin and Lulah probably minutes away. Calliope watched as he drove off.

V
ince’s backpack
bit into his shoulders and he gave them a slow roll. The weight was comforting, like a hug. Hot, hot hell, it was good to
feel
something. He locked the pickup and started up the track. On the trail, he could control the chaos. Nobody to harm, no expectations, no emotional investment with anybody else. Simply encounter, react, encounter, react. Burn off some stress and reduce the commotion in his head.

He’d let Lulah down and right now there wasn’t one thing he could do to make that better, because until he improved, he had to be a selfish ass. He should stay away from her, tell her she needed to find someone else to help with her course work. If he could find another place to do his woodwork, and ask one of the others at the Sanctuary to watch Calliope for him, he’d be sweet. Sorted.

Lulah in Lycra.

What a sight she was in her yoga gear. The pants that hugged her butt, that little top that curved around her pert breasts, small and perfectly formed, and memorable. With that white spiky hair she looked like an imp. A sexy, mischievous sprite. If this day had started differently and traveled another route he could have been there with her, at the yoga class. Sure, his mind didn’t steady much, but it usually finished up a pleasant hour where he could set his thoughts aside and concentrate on his physical self.