Head Start (Cedar Tree #7) (37 page)

“Shut up.” His deep voice sounds rough as he pulls me close, pressing his chin to the crown of my head. “I have what I always wanted and never thought I was going to get. Don’t fucking thank me. I don’t deserve you, but I have you, and there’s no way in hell I’ll let go of my dream.”

-

“A
nyone want to share?”

The no-nonsense therapist manning the therapy group both Franka and I joined looks around the room at every individual. This is our second time. The first session just three days ago had been branded in my mind. I was shocked not only that both men and women were in attendance, but at the diversity and depth of cruelty people inflict on each other. These are all victims of violent crime, and although I initially balked at the fact there were men present as well, Franka insisted I give it a chance. So I did, and the few men that spoke up when this same question was asked in the first session, made it painfully obvious that my preconceived idea of women as victims was archaic. Some of the stories shared, by both men and women, were horrifying, but what struck me hardest was that the feelings—the emotions—experienced during and after the events described, were heartbreakingly similar.

Which is why, only the second session in, I don’t flinch when Dr. Marten’s eyes land on me. Instead, I give Franka’s hand a squeeze and take a deep breath. “I’ll share,” I say, my voice a little shaky.

“Then so will I,” Franka surprises me by saying in a much stronger voice beside me.

There are a few tears, and not just ours, some horrified looks but much less than I’d have expected, and finally there is a sense of acceptance expressed in looks and softly murmured words of encouragement by the other twelve members of the group. It’s also harder than I thought it would be to expose myself to strangers like that, but I’m trying. For someone who’s always been carefully contained, sharing simply doesn’t come naturally. What makes it possible is the knowledge that the emotional aftermath is very similar for everyone here, regardless of what they were victim to or even of gender. Guilt, self-doubt, regret, anger; those seem to be common themes.

I’m exhausted by the end of the session and I’m surprised, when we walk out of the hospital—me still on those blasted crutches—to find Neil leaning against the grill of his truck, talking with Tom Bridges.

“Guess Ben has a double shift tonight,” Franka explains. “He’s taking on as much extra work as he can. His medical insurance isn’t the best and he really wants to give Tom his dream of going to college, but the expenses for his surgery and treatments, plus the fact that there are three more kids waiting in line, have really drained them. I’m lucky I have the insurance I do through work, or I’d be screwed too.”

When we reach the two men, my mind is preoccupied with Franka’s words. I give Tom a quick hug and tell him I hope to be back at work next week, which earns me an eye-roll from Neil. A cheek kiss for Franka and the promise we’ll see each other next week and then they are off.

Neil helps me into the truck cab and leans in for a kiss. “How was it?” He wants to know.

I wait until he is buckling up in the driver’s seat. “I shared,” I tell him, noting the surprise on his face.

“Already? Fuck me, Pup. I’m so proud of you. Can’t have been easy.”

“She shared right after me. It made it easier having her there.”

“Naomi was so right,” he mumbles under his voice.

“Naomi?”

“The first time you two met in the hospital, Naomi told me to watch, that you’d be good for each other. She’s right,” Neil explains. I turn to look at him and see him watching me from the corner of his eyes, obviously chewing on something. But rather than question him, I wait him out. I know it pays off when he blows out a breath he’s clearly been holding and closes his eyes. “I don’t know how she figured this one, but she also told me to contact Veteran’s Affairs and see about handling my own shit.” I reach over and slip my hand upside down under the one he holds clenched on his thigh, lacing my fingers with his. I know this is big. This is something he’s carried around for many years and from what I gather I’m the only one he’s told, which is why what he says next surprises me. “I talked to Gus the other day. Told him.” He snorts his disbelief. “His reaction surprised me about as much as yours did. He put in a call to a buddy of his running a veterans’ clinic in Durango in his typical no-nonsense way. Guy told him to give me his number but that I’d have to make that first step myself. Been hanging on to that piece of paper not sure if I’d call or not.” He twists in his seat, turning his body toward me, his eyes serious. “I’m gonna call. Figure if my girl can find the courage to stand up and tell her story, then dammit, so can I. Or I’m not worthy of her.”

“I love you so much.” My hand strokes his jaw and I try to convey with my eyes how deep my feelings run. “I’ll always be proud of you, of what you do, but more so of who you are. Call him, by all means, but don’t do it for me. I don’t need it to know how much courage you carry in your heart. Do it for you. Because you deserve to put your own monster to rest.” His face turns into my palm as he sucks in a deep breath.

Sitting up, he pulls his phone and a piece of paper out of his pocket. And right there, sitting in the Cortez Memorial Hospital parking lot, he makes the call that will hopefully, finally, free his soul.

N
eil

“I told you already. Fuck me, you’re a pain in my ass. It’ll be done.”

I chuckle as I end the call. I’m sure I’ve been a pain in his ass these past weeks. Since closing on the house, the work has gone into overdrive. Especially since I hit Clint’s Mason Brothers up with a few additional requests. Maybe I should call them requirements. Both Kendra and I have become quite attached to the sizable bathtub in the guesthouse and can appreciate the benefits of a separate shower, which is why I’m having the guys renovate the bathroom as well. It was intact after the explosion, but since work was already being done... Same with the kitchen. That needed to be redone anyway, but I put in some requests, hoping Kendra would be pleased with them. Instead of a closed off kitchen, it would now be an open-concept to the living/dining room so that we’d never have to lose sight of each other.

I glance at the clock on my dashboard, hoping like hell I won’t run into any traffic on my way back from Durango. Naomi was supposed to drive Kendra to Cortez to get her cast removed, and I’m rushing to meet them. I’d wanted to take her, but Kendra wasn’t about to let me skip a session at the veterans’ clinic. Probably because after the last one, I told her I thought I might be ready to share my story. Today was my third time going and the things some of the others had shared before, as well as the group’s reaction to them, showed me it was safe for me to open up. Veterans of all ages, from all backgrounds, none of whom had been able to leave combat behind completely for a variety of reasons. It was the common monster in the room. It had taken two individual sessions to be deemed ready for the group and by that time I felt wrung out. But now, after sitting through two, just observing and listening, I was ready to jump in. And I did. Although it wasn’t any easier than the previous times I’ve had to recount the story, it sure felt fucking great to only see nods of understanding around the room. So by the time I got to my truck, my shoulders felt lighter, and I was anxious to get to my girl.

The quick call to Clint was only to make sure that by the time I bring Kendra home after her appointment, the house will be ready. She still doesn’t know I bought the place, let alone am making some changes, but I hope she’ll love it. I know the dog will be happy to have his fenced yard again. Malachi and Gus are bringing over the dog and our belongings, which Emma was going to pack up after Naomi picked Kendra up. This way, by the time we head back for Cedar Tree, we’ll be all moved in.

Three weeks ago, Kendra had slowly started taking some of her patients back. Tom Bridges had been first in line. She told me she was waving her fee for him, feeling it was the least she could do. Little does she know that I’m working on my own plans to make sure Tom will not forget how grateful we are.

The parking lot is full, and it takes me ten minutes of driving around to find a spot. I’m frustrated, because I was already cutting it thin and now I’m most definitely late.

But when I make a beeline for the reception, I hear my name called, and I turn to find Kendra and Naomi still sitting in the waiting area.

“He’s a little late,” Kendra informs me after I kiss her hello. “He had to check out an emergency that was brought in.” I settle in beside her on the couch when Naomi announces she has a patient to check on before heading back.

“Unless you want me to stay,” she asks Kendra, who shakes her head.

“No, go on. We’re not expecting any complications, right?”

“Nope. As of the last look they had a few weeks ago, it seemed to be healing okay. He’ll suggest PT to help maximize mobility of that joint, but that’s your specialty, not mine.” She smiles and waves before heading off down the hall.

Kendra puts her head on my shoulder and her hand in the middle of my chest. “How did it go?” she asks carefully. I could tell she was on pins and needles this morning, knowing I was planning to share today, so I quickly reassure her.

“Well. Surprisingly well.” I press a kiss on her head.

“Good. That’s really good.”

I can hear the smile in her voice and feel some of the tension drain from her shoulders.

There isn’t much of a chance to say much more, because Kendra gets called in. Grabbing my hand, she pulls me up. “You’re coming with.”

-

A
little over an hour later, I take the turn off to our new house.

“Hey, you’re taking the wrong turn,” Kendra, both her feet now in her preferred rubber flip-flops, points out.

“I just want to have a look to see how the house is coming along.” I point at her cast-less foot. “I’m sure now that you are a free woman, you’ll want to move back in as soon as possible.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but quietly stares out the window until we pull up in the driveway. “Holy shiznit! Look at it!” She unsnaps her seatbelt and is about to jump out of the cab when I manage to grab her arm.

“Easy, Pup. Doesn’t seem like a good idea to jump on that ankle just yet,” I comment dryly. Kendra turns to me and sticks her tongue out, clearly not in the mood for teasing. “Let me give you a hand.”

K
endra

The new porch is beautiful. A brand new swing is hanging from the beams and instead of the old wooden railing, a gorgeous new wrought iron one is mounted on the extra wide deck boards. New, larger windows have been put in, and I can only imagine how much lighter it would make the living room. The yard is still a bit barren but I’m sure I’ll be able to plant some things now, and the rest maybe October. I’ll check with Katie, who has the green thumb.

I have to admit, when Neil pointed out I was moving back soon, it took me by surprise. We’ve spent almost the entire past eight weeks together. We certainly had shared the same bed each night. It would be weird going back to each of us living in our own place. I hadn’t even thought about it before now, and honestly, it makes me a bit sad. I think mostly because of the matter of fact way he said it. Guess I’d assumed we’d live together even after life settled back down. Maybe he’s not in that place yet.

“Want to go in?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Are you sure that’s okay? I mean, I don’t see any work trucks here but perhaps—“

“Kendra, it’s fine. Come on.”

Still on my crutches for another week, I hobble up the three steps to the porch and find Neil already has the door open. With a grand gesture, he waves me in and although the stairs to my right don’t appear to have changed, to my left it is a completely new house. I slap my hands over my mouth when I see how bright, with windows on all three sides. The kitchen is visible from the front door and a beautiful gleaming L-shaped bar where the wall used to be, separates the workspace from the living space. Some of the kitchen cabinets have frosted panels and are lit from inside showing glassware and china. To my surprise, Neil’s furniture from his apartment fills the living space, and there is even a big bouquet of flowers sitting on his dining room table. I’m stunned. This place is ready for us to move in.

I turn to Neil and see him watching me intently, a nervous little smile on his lips that I can’t quite place. “This is amazing. Just beautiful. I don’t understand. Your stuff...it’s here. I thought when you said I’d be moving in, you meant alone.”

He takes a few steps closer and puts his hands on either side of my neck, leaning down to look me straight in the eyes. “You thought I’d just move back into my apartment? Alone? Not gonna happen, babe. You’re stuck with me.” I drop my forehead to his chest and feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckles. “There’s more,” he says.

“More? But I thought the rest was not damaged.”

“Well no, but Clint did some improvements while he was at it. Upstairs.”

I’m glad the stairs only have five steps because I’m not feeling too stable with my crutches. Luckily he’s right behind me to catch me if I fall. It’s only a small landing upstairs, with the bedrooms on both sides, and the bathroom straight ahead, but something seems a little off on the configuration. I turn to Neil, who just nods in the direction of the bathroom door.