Seeking Refuge

by Alana Terry

  They rode forward for another half mile on the tree-lined road flanked by white fencing on both sides. They’d just rounded a bend to drive up to the security/information gatehouse when a small thrill went through Shauna. She spotted a beautiful bay-colored Appaloosa running alongside a dark-chocolate-colored Marwari which she knew was rare for this area of the country. Both horses were excellent breeds for dressage riding and jumping. She watched their stride as they made their way around a nice-sized paddock. Their hand was very attentive but gave them their space. She could tell right away that they were being exercised and longed to be out there with them. Suddenly she had a fresh surge of energy and wanted to get to her cabin as soon as possible so she could change and go riding.

  After Michael checked in at the security gatehouse and was given a map with directions to their cabins and other relevant buildings, he continued to drive on what Shauna figured was the main road through the ranch. She took in everything from the barns and paddocks to what looked to be a one-story office building. She caught a similar theme in color and design with each building and was impressed by their sizes, but when Michael came over a ridge, the main house that came into full view took her breath away. It was even more beautiful than when she’d caught a glimpse it from the main highway. The gray, stone structure was outfitted with open verandas on two stories, projecting bays and gambrel-shaped roofs. She wondered if the main house would be part of the tour her father had mentioned. After looking at it, she could see that all the other buildings were designed after it. She could hardly wait to see what her cabin looked like.

  They veered to the west of the house, and sitting back thirty feet, but still nestled between the bunkhouse and the main house, were ten smaller replicas of the house. Each had bay windows and porches big enough for swings or chairs. The giddiness that bubbled up inside her was startling. It had been a long time since she’d felt this excited. She caught Michael’s eye in the rearview mirror and tamped down on her glee. She knew he reported to her father, and she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d chosen so perfectly.

  Chapter 11

  “COME ON, DADDY. YOU’RE gonna be late.” He looked down at the small hand curled around three of his fingers. He followed the hand to the small wrist and arm, then shoulders that were half hidden by the mass of curly, black hair. The tiny tiara, secured by a half-dozen bobby pins, glinted in the sun. The small pull on his fingers caused him to smile. She was so strong for a five-year-old. He let himself be dragged down the back lawn of his friend, Derek’s house to what looked like a mystical world surrounded by tiny, sparkling white lights and huge butterflies in various colors with gossamer wings. The white tent situated near the edge of the lawn was enclosed on three sides, and as he was drawn closer, he could see that the fairy-tale theme continued to include a brief nod toward the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party.

  Two sets of long tables were placed together, so all the children attending the party could face each other. The servants attending to the children were dressed as different Disney characters. The thought of their reactions when told they’d have to dress up like princes, princesses, villains, and monsters made him smile. As they cleared the entrance of the tent, Rapunzel greeted him, handing him a bejeweled crown.

  His daughter tugged on his hand. “I want to do it.”

  He looked down at her, confused. “Do what?”

  “Crown you.”

  It was her birthday so he indulged her by handing her the crown and kneeling down in front of her. He felt it when she secured the crown on his hair by the small side combs attached to the headpiece. He looked up to see her smiling broadly at him. She laid her little palm on his cheek. “You’re the handsomest king ever.”

  His heart turned over. “Why thank you, my princess.”

  “And thank you.” She continued to smile.

  “For what?”

  “For being the best daddy ever.” His eyes began to burn and any reply he could’ve given got lodged in his throat, so he closed his eyes as he hugged her to him.

  Zach came awake slowly as the dream melted away. He was back in his bedroom, hugging his pillow to him as if it were a little person. A whimper at his back caused him to turn over to see Sebastian resting his head at the edge of the other side of the bed. “I’m all right.” This had been some sort of bizarre ritual for them over the last couple of weeks. He’d come out of what was more like a memory than a dream, and Sebastian would be at the edge of his bed almost begging him to wake up. He felt something on his cheeks and wiped his face. His hand came away wet and he looked at it in confusion for a moment. He hadn’t cried in a long time and nothing in his dream was sad... His brain finally clicked into gear. They were tears of joy. He couldn’t even begin to think back to that.

  He lay there a moment longer replaying the dream while assessing his body and mind. He felt rested this morning for some reason. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was six a.m. instead of his, as of late, normal three thirty a.m. wake time. He began to give up a prayer of thanks but gave into a thought. He chanced offering a question to God in his mind. He wasn’t sure he really was ready for the answer.

  Why didn’t I have these dreams when they first left?

  He wasn’t too surprised when the answer came to him.

  The temptation to follow them would’ve been too hard for you to deny.

  I don’t think I would’ve taken my own life?

  Even though you may not have taken any single action, you still could’ve sped up the process of your death by your inaction.

  Zach inhaled deeply and let it out slowly while he pondered those thoughts.

  Why now?

  Now they’ll do more to heal you rather than destroy you.

  But why now?

  Because it’s time.

  Zach groaned and rolled to a sitting position in bed. He knew he wouldn’t get more of an answer than that.

  He scratched Sebastian behind the ears for a few seconds before going to take a shower.

  Zach stepped out onto his porch with his coffee. Sebastian ran past him and up the walkway leading to the other cabins. If Bass wasn’t so amiable, he would’ve followed him to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble; instead, he sat down and watched the ranch come alive from his small corner. He considered his cabin’s positioning compared to the rest and silently thanked Bernie again for his foresight. The front of his cabin faced northwest, whereas the others faced southwest and were situated south of him. It allowed for more privacy and the ability for him to come and go without any of the other cabin occupants knowing.

  A half hour later, he went back inside to get his gloves and hat. Sebastian hadn’t returned so he knew he wouldn’t see him again until lunch or dinnertime. He exited his cabin and locked the door. He was halfway to the barn when he remembered Kimberly’s friend.

  What was her name again? Shawn, Shayna...

  He gave himself a mental shake. Well, whatever her name was, she would be at the therapy center at ten a.m. for their first session. He hoped she was more like Kimberly and less like the entitled woman Bernie described.

  He walked into the barn and took in the smell of hay and horses, and everything else melted away.

  Zach looked at his watch. It was seven minutes past ten and his first client of the day was late. He wondered if this was a habit with her. He wondered if she was serious about these therapy sessions or if her father did more than just vet the place for her. Well, if... He looked down at his sheet to remind himself of her name. If Shauna couldn’t arrive on time, daddy or no, he wasn’t entitled to give her the full two-hour session. He had three more today, and he wouldn’t let anyone, including...

  “Sorry, so sorry,” came the rushed and slightly breathless plea from his right. He saw a woman and man rushing in from the doorway of the arena. With the light behind them, Zach couldn’t see more than their dark shapes approaching him. He pushed his irritation to the side as they briskly walked forwa
rd. He looked back down at the form in his hand to make sure he got her full name correct when she got close enough for him to address her, but when he looked up, all thought left him.

  Coming toward him in a pair of skintight, dark-brown riding breeches with a short-sleeve, white shirt and black vest, was a woman he didn’t even think he had enough imagination to dream up. He’d put her at five feet nine or ten at first glance, with shapely legs that went on for miles, and hips that flared out from a waist that stitched in just below the vest. The hands that carried her hat were in front of her chest now, and as he continued his awestruck perusal, he watched as her chin came up. Above her stubbornly set chin were full, wide lips with some kind of beige-colored sheen to them, but when his eyes met hers, his whole body jolted. His breath hitched, and he was sure his heart stuttered before regaining its natural rhythm.

  Her brown, almond-shaped eyes widened for a second then crinkled at the edges as if she knew a secret. Her lips parted slightly, and as tempted as he was to look down, his eyes remained riveted on hers with the spiky, long lashes that reminded him of a doe.

  The hand that shot forward out of nowhere, along with the sound of a male voice, penetrated the trance slowly, then all together, as time started again. He pulled his eyes away from the woman and forced them to connect with the man who stood to her right.

  “I’m Michael Gross and this is Dr. Shauna Nathan.” He gestured to his left and Zach gave himself permission to glance at the gorgeous woman again before turning back to Michael and reaching forward to shake his hand. An idle thought regarding their true relationship sat on the edge of his conscience and he resisted bringing it to the foreground. He turned and offered his hand to Shauna. He was surprised at the feel of her strong grip encased in a leather glove. He had the oddest sense of disappointment at not being able to feel her skin. He took a breath before trusting himself to speak.

  “Hello, Mr. Gross and Dr. Nathan. I’m Zach Mobley and I’ll be your therapy trainer today.” He looked down at the form in his hand, willing his brain to come back online.

  “Sorry again for being late. Please call me Shauna,” Shauna said. Her raspy voice was still a little breathy. The sound ran along his nerves like liquid gold. Maybe if he could keep her from talking he’d have a chance of getting through the next two hours without forgetting that this incredibly beautiful woman was off-limits.

  He stepped back from the pair and walked over to a desk at the end of the walkway to the side of the arena. “No problem. I’m all set up for you. I just need to ask you a few questions before we get started.” He congratulated himself on being able to deliver the line with a brisk and businesslike air he didn’t feel, as he walked behind the desk. “Today will be an introduction and orientation of sorts so you’ll know what to expect from our sit-down and riding sessions. It’ll also help me develop a program that’ll work best for you.” He glanced up quickly and gestured to the chairs on the other side of the desk, but he noticed that only Shauna sat. He looked up at Michael. “This may take a moment.”

  “That’s fine. I’m used to standing.”

  He watched as Shauna gave Michael a cursory glance, then turned her full attention back to him. He tried to hide what looking at her straight on did to him by returning his eyes to the sheet in front of him. He could barely reconcile what he saw on the page with the confident-looking woman in front of him. “It says here that you suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. When was your last episode?” His pen hovered over the paper as he waited for her answer.

  “About a month ago.”

  He looked up to see her looking up at Michael. “Was it a month ago? It seems like a lot less time has passed,” she said, the last part more to herself.

  Zach was startled by their exchange. It surprised him. She surprised him. Most people prone to anxiety attacks, if they weren’t frequent, remembered their latest episode. “You aren’t sure?”

  She shrugged. “There was a lot going on at the time.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like...” She drew out the word. “The next day I was almost hit by a car and ended up in a coma for a week.” He saw Michael flinch. “The panic attack kind of suffered by comparison and lost its place at the top of my memory.”

  He stared at her for a moment. Was the sarcastic tone in her voice for him or herself? She smiled ruefully, and he looked back at the sheet.

  “What were you doing when your attack came on?”

  “Uh, I was giving a presentation at my work, and I saw someone outside the window.”

  “Was it the same man who's stalking you?” He watched her visibly swallow, and his protective instincts kicked in.

  Oh, that wasn’t good.

  He needed to maintain a semblance of distance to stay objective. She needed and deserved that, otherwise he’d be no help to her. Besides, the last woman who’d even remotely caused this reaction in him, he’d let down. The thought was like being doused with a bucket of cold water for which he was grateful. He returned his focus to his notes.

  “And the time before that?” he asked.

  She looked confused.

  “The last time you had an episode before that.”

  “I’m really not sure. I think it was just after I started working at Synamic Inc. five years ago. That first week was really stressful.” Her mouth quirked up to the right and Zach quickly looked back down.

  “I see from your records that you’ve been receiving therapy for a little over ten years now. I’ve been given some specifics about the reasons for your visit. Is your stay here purely circumstantial or do you have serious interest in another form of therapy?” She squared her shoulders, and the playful light in her eyes dimmed some.

  Good, they were almost all business. He could deal with this.

  “It’s more than likely that I will be in some type of therapy all my life. I’ve been given some coping mechanisms for the panic attacks, but the anxiety is like a low hum under the surface.”

  Zach nodded. “You have a good grasp of understanding your reaction and you’re able to express it. That’s good,” he said with no small amount of admiration.

  “Do you want to share, in your own words, the event that caused your first panic attack?” He watched her swallow and tamped down on the impulse to give her a reprieve. Her jaw tightened reflexively.

  “Has it been a while since you discussed this?” he asked, wondering if his earlier assessment was wrong. Was she just using the techniques, but avoiding the deeper causes?

  She licked her lips before answering. “Yes.”

  “Does it still affect you to the degree that you have trouble talking about it?” He watched as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. He saw the light flush that darkened her cheeks and guessed at her reluctance.

  “Not always,” she said after a moment.

  “Well, then we’ll just skip that for now,” he said, wanting to establish a more professional footing despite their obvious attraction for one another. He’d know by the end of their session whether or not he could continue to be her therapist. “What are some of the mechanisms you use to try to calm yourself when your anxiety heightens?”

  She took a deep breath before she began. “If it comes in gradually, it’s easier to control. Like, if I’m in a place surrounded by people I don’t know, I can usually talk myself through the anxiety or find a less crowded area. If it comes on suddenly, it takes a great deal more work and talking doesn’t always work.”

  “What do you do then?” he asked with interest.

  She reached into her purse and pulled out the wooden, rectangular box. She placed it on the desk so he could see it clearly. She opened the box and pulled the black glass figurine from the velvet lining. “I’ve loved and ridden horses from the moment I could keep myself up on one. They’ve always brought me joy.” She smiled fondly. “A good number of my favorite moments in life have included horses.” Her thumb rubbed what he could see was the belly of the horse. It was the size of her hand and f
igured she could barely span its girth with her thumb and middle finger. She placed it on the desk, just out of his reach. He could tell it was exquisitely made. The detail was so precise, it looked as though the horse was frozen in mid-jump and encased in glass.

  “May I touch it?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He lifted an eyebrow then glanced up to Michael whom he’d forgotten briefly. The man’s expression told him nothing, so he looked back at her and waited for an explanation.

  She took a breath. “It works by touch. I walk myself through certain steps while slowly feeling my way from the horse’s nose to its tail. If the image of anyone holding my horse gets stuck in my mind, it’ll hinder the effects.”

  He understood immediately. She used tactile contact along with visualization to calm herself.

  “What’s the success rate?”

  “Well, I can’t really rate it because my ability to use it has gotten better with each episode.”

  “And would you consider your latest attempt successful?”

  “Not really. It was more luck than anything else. I waited too long to try to get it under control. I was in the middle of a presentation when it started and I wanted to get to a point where my partner could take over without causing too much of a distraction.”

  “But even so far gone, you still talked yourself down.”

  “No, I didn’t. The edges of my vision were already darkening before my body responded and even then, it was a surprise.”

  “What are you looking to gain while you’re here?”

  She seemed surprised by his question. She opened her mouth and closed it quickly as if trying to catch an impulsive thought from straying. She picked up her figurine, placing it back in its case as she thought of her answer. He waited patiently, happy she was giving it serious thought.

  “I love horses. I feel a peace and joy when I’m with them that I don’t feel anywhere else.”

  He was surprised to realize they had that trait in common.