“Hey, we’ve got lots of news,” Matt said as they turned off the sidewalk to the parking lot. “Do you want to ride home with us? I can drive you back afterward?”
Casey liked the idea of a few quiet, private moments with Matt. She knew Megan was all ears and that some discussions couldn’t be shared with her. “Sure, sounds good.”
“CAT’S RECOMMENDATION was that I take Megan to see Dr. Jordana Lawton, the functional medicine specialist, and I did.” Matt sat in front of his emptied plate. Casey was opposite him finishing off the last of her spaghetti. Megan was on her second piece of garlic bread, her plate shining clean.
“I know you took Megan to see her. What were the results of that saliva test?” Casey asked. She saw a new light in Matt’s eyes and couldn’t interpret it.
“The saliva test shows Megan’s cortisol levels. Shows whether they’re outside the normal limits.” Matt got up and took all the plates into the kitchen. When he came back, he retrieved seven pages of test results and handed them to Casey. “The one I want you to look at,” he said, leaning down near her and helping her thumb through the results, “is this one…” He inhaled Casey’s sweet scent. The fragrance of pine was still lingering in her shining brown hair. “This is the box diagram that shows the normal cortisol levels and the peaks outside of it are Megan’s results.”
Matt was so close it dizzied Casey’s senses. She automatically absorbed his power and masculinity. Looking where he placed his thumb, she flattened the papers on the table. “Look at this. Three out of the four are outside the normal limits of where her cortisol levels should be.” She turned, Matt’s face inches from hers. Gulping, Casey tried to suppress her feminine reaction to him. His face was dark with beard growth. It made the planes and angles of his features give him a dangerous look. One that beckoned to her.
Smiling, Matt nodded and tapped the box. “Dr. Lawton said that the Diagnos-Tech test would show if Megan’s cortisol was in or out of normal. She said it’s out the most at night and, of course, that’s when the fire happened.”
Casey looked over at Megan, but she seemed completely absorbed in the garlic bread. Still, she chose her words carefully. “And so when the cortisol is outside the normal lines this causes those symptoms of anxiety, tension and restlessness that she has?”
“Exactly!” Matt grew excited as he traced the three peaks. “Dr. Lawton said that at 9:00 a.m., 3:00 p.m. and late in the evening around 10:00 p.m., were Megan’s high-cortisol periods.”
Worriedly, Casey looked at the illustration. “So, what can be done to force the cortisol back into normal levels for her, Matt?”
Matt walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up a bottle. Setting it down in front of Casey, he said, “This is the adaptogen. Dr. Lawton prescribed it for Megan. It’s designed to block the cortisol receptors. The trauma Megan survived has shut down her pituitary gland’s ability to order the adrenal glands to stop making cortisol.” He tapped this bottle. “By plugging the receptors at the peak times when her cortisol is abnormally high, this medicine, she says, will bring them back inside normal bounds. And then,” Matt smiled a little and caught Casey’s gaze, “it means that all those symptoms Megan has will go away. Permanently.”
“Wow,” Casey murmured, impressed. “And what about Megan’s broken sleep? And her nightmares?”
Standing, Matt allowed his hands to rest on his hips. “Dr. Lawton says that a thirty-day regime of this medication is going to handle all of that, Casey. Megan will finally sleep through the night instead of waking up two or three times.”
Marveling over the good news, Casey picked up the bottle. “This is fantastic! Who knew this medicine was out there?”
“I know. If not for Cat, we’d still be looking at other alternatives to help Megan.” Frowning, Matt walked back over to his chair and sat down. “I’ve really resisted giving Megan anti-anxiety medication and sleeping pills. Her pediatrician has really pushed me on this and I’ve balked. Dr. Lawton was saying that traditional medicine handles high cortisol but it doesn’t address the core issue. And it doesn’t lower the person’s cortisol levels, either. All you’re doing is covering it up with other drugs.”
“I remember Cat going on this adaptogen, too.” Casey held the bottle up to him. “This was about a month ago.”
“Yes, she was telling me that her background had a lot of trauma.” His voice faltered. “I guess she was severely abused as a child.”
Nodding, Casey said, “Yes, we’ve had long talks until after midnight sometimes about her family upbringing. But I noticed that when she started taking this medicine she wasn’t so skittish, restless or anxious. And now, she’s really calm, centered and doesn’t overreact to everything. This is amazing stuff, Matt.” Casey gave Megan a warm look, the girl happily focused on chewing her bread with gusto. “I’m going to look forward to seeing the changes in Megan.”
“Yes.” Matt sighed. “I pray that this is what we need to unlock so much…so much…”
Feeling his worry and guilt, Casey knew he’d been looking for a breakthrough like this. “Has Dr. Lawton handled other children in her practice who had trauma?”
Nodding, Matt said, “Yes, she has a lot of experience with children as well as adults. She’s an amazing person. After talking with her about Megan’s condition, I left her office so full of hope.” He scowled. “She didn’t throw drugs at Megan. She offered something very specific to bring the cortisol back to normal, functioning levels. She focused on the root cause, Casey, not the plethora of symptoms that high cortisol can give a person.”
“I wonder,” she said softly, “if I should see Dr. Lawton?” Casey didn’t want to speak of her own incident in the world of trauma in front of Megan. The girl had been through enough. She saw Matt’s eyes gleam and his very male mouth draw into a smile.
“I think you should see her, Casey.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing to lose. It can address your cortisol and I’m sure after talking to Dr. Lawton, that your levels are out of the normal range, too.”
“And Dr. Lawton feels it will take how long to see a difference in Megan?”
“She said it takes about seventy-two hours for it to kick in and to start seeing differences. She said I should observe Megan and keep a daily journal of her actions and reactions.” Matt held up his hand, his fingers crossed. “Let’s hope this works.”
Sighing, Casey said, “That makes three of us. Be fore I leave tonight, give me Dr. Lawton’s phone number. I want to see her.”
“Great,” Matt said. He felt a deluge of emotions as Casey’s face glowed with renewed hope. “This stuff,” he pointed at the bottle, “could help so many people, Casey. Dr. Lawton said soldiers who have PTSD can get rid of their symptoms by taking this adaptogen. She said abused children will stop their patterns of negative behavior. And adults who have been abused as children or who have suffered any kind of severe trauma in their life can all benefit from this very same regime. Can you believe, it only takes one inexpensive saliva test to find out?” He shook his head, some anger in his voice. “Do you know that the last two years I’ve searched high and low in the medical field to find Megan relief from her symptoms?”
“I know you’ve tried a lot of things,” Casey said, giving him a tender look. She saw the strife in Matt’s expression, the frustration and hopelessness. “But it sounds like functional medicine is a new branch. And maybe that’s why you didn’t find it before this.”
“Yes,” Matt muttered, pushing his fingers through his short hair. “Dr. Lawton said it is a brand-new branch and until it gets known, there’s a lot of PTSD people out there still suffering and trying to suppress their symptoms with other anti-depressant drugs. As soon as they go off the drugs, all their symptoms come back. And that’s not cure. That’s suppression.”
“At least with this method,” Casey said, feeling hopeful, “there is a cure. Did Dr. Lawton say that once Megan goes through this thirty-day cycle her levels will be normal?”
“Dr.
Lawton said she’ll give her a second test about three months from now to make sure. And she said most people only need it once, for a month. In severe PTSD and trauma cases, though, the person might need a second month of taking this adaptogen.”
“Still,” Casey said, brightening, “this is so hopeful.” She wanted to get up and dance around. “Cat said she no longer has those horrid nightmares that would wake both of us up at night. Literally, Matt, I’d hear Cat scream and our bedrooms are opposite one another with a hall between us. And our doors are closed. That is how loud she was yelling.”
Grimacing, Matt said, “Cat is an excellent firefighter but I could see she had a lot of problems she wasn’t sharing with any of us.”
“Well,” Casey murmured, “Cat is the only woman in an all-man fire department, so she’s gun-shy of sharing anything for fear some of the guys will use it against her.”
Sad, Matt nodded. “Yes, there’s a good ol’ boy attitude that the chief is trying to change. And to be fair, Cat is taking a lot of lumps because there’s some men in there who don’t want to see a woman doing their job. It’s discrimination, pure and simple, but until we catch these dudes doing it, there’s not much we can do.”
“I get discrimination over at my job, too. There’s guys in there who think being a ranger is a job for men only. I just hate that kind of mentality.”
“Women get it every time,” Matt agreed. “In my family, my two younger brothers assume they’ll take over the ranching when my father, Lou, retires.”
“Did your sister Jessie ever want to do it, though?” Casey wondered. She’d met Jessie several times and liked the red-haired twenty-five-year-old with blue eyes. Unlike Matt, she was perky and outgoing. Casey wondered if Matt had been that way before the tragedy and the loss of Bev, his wife.
“No,” Matt said, “Jessie always wanted to be a nurse. She took four years of college in Cheyenne and then came back here to work. Right now, she’s trying to talk her boss into letting her be part of the medical flight team. He’s balking and she told me he’s prejudiced against women doing a job like that. So, she’s bucking the traces on it but not getting anywhere fast.”
“Yes, but she has red hair,” Casey said, smiling a little. She knew there were strong Irish genes in his family. “True or not, I think people with red hair get their way sooner or later.”
Chuckling, Matt nodded. “Listen, the more you get to know Jess, the more you’ll realize that she will get her way. The guy who’s her boss doesn’t know it, but he will.” Getting up, he said, “Time for dessert?”
Groaning, Casey held up her hands. “Listen, I have to maintain my weight. Dessert is off my list. Until Charley figures out he can send me on outdoor assignments again, this desk work is making me fat.” She patted her hip.
“You aren’t fat,” Matt said. “And what’s the latest on that gun incident that happened a couple of months ago?”
Casey got up and walked with Matt to the kitchen. “Well, maybe not fat, but I’ve gained five pounds sitting behind that darned counter. And there are no new leads on that rifle incident. Charley hasn’t let it go but he’s more relaxed. Now, he’s letting me go out on trail again, thank goodness.” As a firefighter, Matt faced tremendous physical demands and they kept him lean and hard. It was a treat for Casey to watch him saunter ahead of her. Today, his white polo shirt and jeans outlined his muscular body to perfection. She especially liked his hands. They were large, the fingers long with calluses on the palms. Matt was an outdoors person. Even in the snow and ice, he liked working outside when he could.
Matt brought out a cherry pie he’d made earlier in the day. “Sure you won’t have a little piece? I won’t put vanilla ice cream on it.” He grinned over at her.
Pulling down two plates from above, Casey laughed. “No, you can’t bribe me. As if only ice cream has the calories and the pie doesn’t. Shame on you, Matt.”
Chuckling with her, he absorbed the easy familiarity of Casey being with him in the kitchen. For a moment out of time, Matt tried to imagine that they were married. Is this what it would be like? This happy camaraderie? This gentle teasing? He ached to have his life whole again, realizing once more that he was the kind of man who needed marriage in order to feel complete. Tearing his thoughts away from that, he said, “Guilty as charged.”
“I’ll make us fresh coffee,” Casey offered.
Nodding, he said, “Go for it.”
For the next few minutes a warm blanket of peace fell over the kitchen. Casey felt happy. It was a rare thing, she realized as she brought the coffee down from the cupboard. Happiness had stopped being an emotion when she’d experienced the trauma.
“Matt?”
“Yes?”
“What are some of the other symptoms of high cortisol levels?”
“Dr. Lawton said people can have a very broad range of symptoms.”
“Humor me. What are they?” She poured the grounds into the machine.
“A lot of people feel only two emotions—fear and anger. No other human emotions are there. You have to understand that when you feel that your life is being threatened, fear is a good thing to have. It spurs you into action. And the anger is a natural component of survival—it’s you or the other guy. It makes sense to me. Does it to you?” He glanced over at Casey. She looked pensive as she made the coffee.
“Yes. You’ve hit the nail on the head. Those are the only two emotions I have. Fear and anger. I always feel on guard. Apprehensive. Wondering when the next bad thing is going to happen.”
Nodding, he hurt for Casey. Matt knew she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. “Dr. Lawton would probably say you’re in the fight-or-flight survival mode. Most people who suffer from PTSD get imprisoned between these two emotions because the high cortisol always makes them feel as if the next threat is right around the corner and going to jump out at them.”
Flipping the switch on the coffeemaker, Casey nodded. “Are there other symptoms?”
“She mentioned heartburn, swelling of your stomach shortly after eating a meal and ulcers.”
“I don’t have any of those symptoms.”
“She said that there’s a cascade effect and that these other symptoms will slowly show up over the years. Your incident wasn’t that long ago. Maybe, if it isn’t treated, in another five or so years you could start having these symptoms.”
Nodding, Casey said, “It makes sense to me. I do have the waking up two or three times a night. I hate broken sleep. I never had it before my…well…that time in my life.” She didn’t even like to talk about it. Matt gave her a warm, understanding look.
“So, there’s anxiety, feeling anxious, restlessness, inability to sit still very long and a sense of foreboding.”
Matt nodded. “Yes.”
“It sure sounds like a lot of ADHD symptoms to me. Does it to you?” Casey turned and rested her hips against the kitchen counter as Matt cut the pie and put two slices on the plates. For Megan, it was a very thin piece and for him, it was a quarter of the pie. Casey smiled and said nothing. There was something incredibly endearing about Matt.
“When the person who has the trauma has gone further into it, Dr. Lawton mentioned allergy symptoms start coming on. All kinds of allergies. She said the immune system is getting depleted by the high cortisol so it leaves the person wide open to a myriad of allergy symptoms.”
“Hmm,” Casey said. “I have an allergy I just got in the last year. I’ve suddenly become allergic to cat hair, of all things. At home,” she looked over at him, “my parents have four Abyssinian cats and I was never allergic to them. What else?”
He placed the plastic lid back over the pie and put the container up against the wall of the counter. “She mentioned the thyroid could get hit by it over time, citing that a lot of women go hypothyroid and start putting on unwanted weight.”
Touching her hip, Casey frowned. “I wonder if it’s because of that or my sitting behind a desk eight hours a day?”
�
�Only one way to find out,” Matt said, handing her one of the plates. “Go see Dr. Lawton.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Casey agreed. She walked into the dining room. Megan looked up, her eyes widening when she saw the dessert. She began making sounds and reached out for it as Casey placed it down in front of her. Oh, how Casey wanted Megan to talk again! Sitting down, Casey wanted to ask Matt about that, but this was the wrong place and time to do it. Maybe when he took her home, she could speak with him. And truth be known, Casey looked forward to that ten-minute trip from his home to the condo. It was a special time when she could fully absorb him. They didn’t have to edit their conversations with one another. And when her gaze fell to his very male, wide mouth, Casey felt herself go hot and shaky inside. No man had ever affected her like this. What was she going to do?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“CASEY!” KAM GREETED her cousin as she walked into Iris Mason’s greenhouse on the Elk Horn Ranch. She scooted off her stool and ran to her cousin. Hugging her, Kam grinned. “I’m so glad you had the day off! Isn’t it gorgeous this morning?”
Casey smiled and released her tall, black-haired relative. Kam looked so happy. Her wedding to Wes would take place in less than a week. Casey liked the cowboy. He was a perfect match for her professional-photographer cousin. “Yes, a wonderful day for a ride.” She craned her neck and waved to Iris Mason, the matriarch of the ranch. At eighty years old, Iris was vital, fit and full of fire. Around Jackson Hole, she was sometimes lovingly called “Dragon Lady.” The only enemy she’d had had been Rudd Mason’s wife, Allison. Now, Allison was in jail awaiting trial for trying to kill Iris and Kam. Rudd, Kam’s recently found father, was in the midst of divorcing Allison. Their two children, Zach and Reagan, had moved into town. Zach was doing drugs, Reagan was deeply involved in her mother’s court case, having completely thrown away her scholarship to a university in California where she would have learned film-making and directing. The children had blatantly ignored Rudd and Iris and that had hurt them deeply. Life had so many twists and turns, Casey realized.
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