by Soraya Lane
Sarah halted her horse and tethered her near to the other one. She seemed calm enough, no longer jumpy, so she left her and walked closer to Nate.
No matter how much she’d tried to hate Nate for leaving, for ending all the plans they’d made and dreams they’d once shared, she’d never been able to. She’d cried over him, cursed him and hated what he’d done and what had happened between them, but she’d never been able to hate him. Never been able to rip up the photos of them as a couple, either, or forget about what being with him had felt like. Angry, sure. But hate? Never.
Now he was back, nothing seemed to make sense. If Nate had never left they still wouldn’t have been able to fulfill their dreams, because everything they’d planned to do one day involved a family. Something that wasn’t possible for her, no matter who she was married to. Her doctor had made that blatantly clear.
And seeing Nate now... His legs were crossed at the ankles, sturdy boots protruding from his faded denim jeans. Nate had his cowboy hat over his face to block the sun, and her fingers itched to pull it away. So she could stare her fill, look at his full lips and strong cheekbones, drink in that chiseled jaw covered in what she imagined would be a sprinkling of stubble.
Sarah started when Nate moaned—made a series of noises that sounded more animal than human. His body started to shake, then he started to murmur, words coming from his mouth that sounded like apologies, like he was asking someone to stop, then whispering no over and over.
She couldn’t just stand over him and watch him suffer, but she had to be careful. After his reaction yesterday when she’d walked up behind him in the dark... The memory of his hands around her throat and his heavy body pinning her to the ground made her shudder. He could have hurt her bad, but she still knew she had to do something.
Sarah slowly dropped to her knees and touched a hand to Nate’s chest, over his heart. Bent to whisper to him, to coax him awake so he’d know she was there and she wouldn’t give him a fright.
“No!” His scream echoed out at the same time as he sprang into action, grabbing her arms and flipping her onto her back before she had a chance to avoid him. Nate’s eyes were wild, his grip tight. Too tight. Like he had no idea what was going on or who he was.
“Nate!” she begged. “Nate, it’s me.” Her voice came out as a terrified whisper, her wrists burning as he held her down. Please, not again.
“Sarah?” The life came back into his eyes as he focused, his eyebrows creasing in the center, forming an arrow. “Sarah?” he asked again, like he knew who she was but couldn’t figure out how they’d ended up like this or what he was doing to her, why he was holding her down.
“Nate, please,” she begged, trying hard not to cry. “Let me go.”
It took a moment, a slow moment as he seemed to realize what he was doing and what he had to do. When he did, his hands moved with lightning speed and he scrambled back, on his haunches, a few feet from her. The look on his face was pure terror—horrified of what he’d just done to her.
Sarah sat up, wincing as she rubbed gingerly at her wrists. Nate had hurt her this time more than she wanted to acknowledge, and from the disgusted look on his face, the last thing she needed to do was make him feel any worse than he already was. Not again. He couldn’t help what he’d done, but he’d sure scared the hell out of her. What he needed was professional help, not her losing it over his actions.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, almost pleading.
Sarah threw him what she hoped was a convincing smile, trying not to let him see how much it had affected her. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. It was just that...”
“I was dreaming,” he finished for her, looking up, his eyes more haunted than she could ever have imagined them looking.
“Exactly,” she confirmed. “So what happened just before wasn’t your fault.”
“It doesn’t make me any less ashamed,” he snapped, standing and staring off into the distance. “I could have hurt you, Sarah. Really hurt you this time.” Nate shook his head. “For the second time in two days, I could have done something else I’d regret forever,” he mumbled.
She shrugged even though she knew he wasn’t looking. Did he mean something else when he said forever? “I don’t believe that.” Even with her wrists aching and her heart still racing, she hadn’t truly feared him before. Not to the point where she didn’t want to be near him because she knew he’d realize what was happening before it was too late. “You scared me, Nate, but you stopped yourself.” She moved closer and reached out to touch his arm, gently trying to coax him into turning around. “That’s all that matters.”
“Don’t try to downplay this, Sarah. I woke up and I thought you were part of my dream. I could have...” He turned back to her, shoulders slumping as anger crept back into his tone. “Damn it, Sarah, I could have snapped.”
“But you didn’t,” she said straight back, not wanting to think what exactly he meant by snapped. “You didn’t and I’m fine.” She was the one being stubborn now.
He glared, eyes flashing. “Sarah, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, or what the hell you think you’re doing here, but I’m not the guy you used to know. I’m nothing like him anymore, so I think you’d better go.”
His anger, the hatred in his voice, made her recoil like she’d been slapped. Where had that come from? What was making him so angry, at her? She was the one who had a right to be angry with him, for everything, not the other way around.
“Nate, don’t talk like that,” she said, wishing she could do something. Anything to shoulder some of the pain he was suffering, to try to help him when he needed it most.
“You can’t fix me, if that’s what you think, Sarah. I’m not one of your school pupils having a bad day. A cup of hot chocolate and a cuddle isn’t going to make me feel better, so just go.” His voice was low, rumbling with enough anger to startle her.
“No,” she fired back, losing the fear that had temporarily taken over and fighting back instead. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, and you don’t get to act like you’re a lost cause, either. You hear me, Nate? You don’t have any right to be angry with me.”
He laughed. He actually had the nerve to laugh at her! A cruel, painful growl of a laugh as he stared her down.
Nate turned away, then whirled back around, closing the distance between them, his huge body blocking her path, looking down at her like he was about to explode. “I have nightmares every single night, Sarah. Every time I shut my eyes, I relive the horrors of what I’ve been through, and I thought for once that sleeping in the daytime, out in the open, I might actually be able to avoid waking up and thinking I was back in the depths of hell,” he told her. “So when I tell you to leave me the hell alone, I mean it. Because no one can help me, not you and not anyone else around here. Are we clear?”
Sarah pressed her fingernails deep into her skin as she crossed her arms, refusing to blubber even if he did have her shaking in her boots. Literally. She’d never in her entire lifetime been spoken to like that—it was far more terrifying than what he’d done to her before. This wasn’t a man she knew, and she was starting to doubt it was a man she wanted to know, either. Regardless of the past they’d once shared.
“The only thing we’re clear on, Nate, is that you’re nothing like the man I used to know.” Sarah refused to break their stare, not willing to back down no matter how much she wanted to collapse into a trembling mess. “Because the Nate I knew would never have spoken to a woman like that, and he sure as heck wouldn’t have spoken to me like that.”
“Well, the Sarah I thought I knew would have waited more than a night after we broke up before jumping straight into bed with one of my best friends,” he snarled. “So maybe we don’t know each other as well as we thought.”
Sarah burned with fury, her entire body alight with more emotion than s
he’d ever felt before. Her hand rose before she could stop it, slapping Nate with a flat palm across his cheek.
She snatched it back in a motion as fast as the act itself, horrified by what she’d done.
Nate just stared down at her, as motionless as a statue. His expression never changed, and he never said a word.
“Let’s not forget that you ended our relationship, Nate. You told me it was over and I dealt with that the best I could. So don’t you ever act like I was the one in the wrong.”
Sarah turned and walked away from him. There were words she could have said, but she didn’t. Because Nate wanted to be left alone, and the way she felt right now meant he’d sure made his point clear.
Tears pooled in her eyes, the second bout of tears she’d had to blink away within an hour, but Sarah never looked back. She reached her horse, mounted and rode away.
He could have called out to her, or come after her, but if he did she never heard him.
Sarah’s palm still stung where she’d hit him, but she knew she deserved the pain. She hated violence, in any shape or form, and she couldn’t believe she’d slapped Nate like that. Even if deep within her, she knew that he damn well deserved it.
* * *
Nate touched his cheek. He didn’t care that it was on fire still from where Sarah had slugged him with her open palm, but he did care why she’d done it.
He’d behaved like a jerk. Said things that he never should have brought up, looked at her in a way that wasn’t fair. Putting all his fear and anger into words that Sarah shouldn’t have ever heard...but maybe she was right. The Nate Calhoun of old was gone, and right now he didn’t even believe in himself enough to think that one day he might return.
Once, Sarah had been the most important person in his life. The person he’d imagined growing old with. Back then he would never have imagined speaking to any woman like that, let alone someone he cared about.
Nate roared. He roared like a wild bear with a thorn imbedded in his paw, before slamming his fist into the massive tree behind him. His hand exploded into a thick burst of pain, so intense that it sent him reeling. He collapsed onto the ground and cradled his hand, lying back with his eyes shut.
He didn’t even know who he was anymore. Because the man he’d thought he was? It was as if he was gone and had lost all connection to the life he’d once led.
Nate cringed as he tried to move his fingers, forcing them to open and close.
Maybe it would be best for everyone if he just up and left. Because being back home was starting to hurt worse than being away had.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NATE glared at the computer screen but it didn’t do him any good. The army physio wasn’t going to go easy on him, which meant his only option to get rid of him was to shut the screen on his laptop. Given the circumstances, he doubted that would be the best option, and besides, there were other things he needed to discuss with him.
“Two more sets and we’ll call it a day,” the doctor told him.
Like he’d read his mind.
Nate grunted as he forced his leg up again, wishing it wasn’t so hard. He was lucky to work remotely like this with anyone on his injury, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him resenting the pain. Or how hard an exercise was that would have once been so simple for him to perform, and now left him sweating and cursing. The fact that his hand still hurt like hell from smashing it into a tree wasn’t helping, either, although at least he could ice that for some instant relief.
A knock sounded out. Nate resisted the urge to get up and limp straight to the door.
“I’ll let you off early to answer that.”
“Thanks,” Nate said, wiping the sweat from his face with an already damp towel. “But before I go, I wanted to ask you about talking to someone about some, er, some pretty dark night terrors I’m having. My counseling sessions have been pretty nonexistent lately.”
The physio nodded. “Leave it to me, Nate. Someone will be in touch soon.”
Nate felt the relief like a weight removed from his shoulders. “Thanks. Same time next week?”
“See you then. Keep up the good work.”
Nate nodded and flipped the lid, ending the call. Another loud knock echoed out.
“Coming!” he called. Whoever it was they weren’t the waiting type.
He didn’t even consider that it could be Sarah. After the way he’d behaved yesterday? He doubted he’d be seeing her at all in the near future, if she had any control over it, and he wasn’t exactly planning on seeking her out, either. Or at least not until he’d worked out an amazing apology to make up for what he’d said.
Nate pulled back the door, giving his face another wipe just in case it was...
“Holt,” he said, seeing his brother standing on his doorstep.
“Hey, Nate.”
There was a time when they’d never have had to knock on each other’s doors, but now everything seemed strained. Completely unnatural when before everything they had done seemed like second nature, and Nate had no idea what to do about it.
“You, ah, want to come in?” Nate asked, not sure what else he was supposed to say.
“Nah, I’ve got a lot to do, but I promised Kathryn that I’d come over and ask you up for dinner tomorrow night.” Holt stood with his hat in his hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he was as uncomfortable as hell. “I told her you’d probably say no, but...”
“I’ll be there,” Nate said, shaking off the desperate urge to tell Holt exactly what he’d expected to hear. Two family dinners within a few days would break some kind of a record for him, based on the past couple of weeks.
“You will?” Holt looked up and made eye contact with him, holding his gaze steady.
Nate stared back at his brother, wishing things didn’t feel like this between them. He loved Holt, wanted to spend time with him and hang out like they used to. But nothing was the same anymore—nothing felt the same no matter how hard he wished it did. What he needed was to know Holt wasn’t going to ask him for details, want to hear what had happened or why he wasn’t the same man who’d left Larkville.
“I need some time alone, Holt. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you guys.” A knot formed low in Nate’s throat, thick like he’d never dislodge it. But he needed to try. “Anyone else be there?”
Holt smiled, the grin starting slow and spreading across his face. “My wife likes a crowd, but if you’d rather it just be the three of us, that’s fine by me.”
Nate pushed his shoulders up, then down, hoping it looked like a casual shrug even though he was shaking on the inside at the thought of another family dinner. The last one hadn’t exactly gone as planned, and he’d as good as walked out on his sister the other night, even if it had been for an entirely different reason. He still hadn’t made it over to her place to apologize, either.
“You don’t want to come out and give me a hand with a rogue bull, do you?” Holt asked. “I can ask someone else but as far as I recall you were pretty good with the big fellas.”
Nate laughed, taken by surprise. Holt grinned back at him, taking Nate way back in time, and it felt good.
“Let me get my boots on,” he told his brother. “I was about to hit the shower but I might leave it till after.”
“You might want to put some pants on, too. Those shorts make you look like a city boy.”
Nate scowled back at Holt as he walked backward and flexed his muscles. “Watch it. I’ll have you know I’ve been working out with the army doc.”
Holt swallowed, hard enough for Nate to notice, and everything changed again—the easy banter ending like it had never existed. The unsaid things between them like a silent bubble that had risen to push them apart, Holt’s eyes flickering back to Nate’s leg, to his limp. Making it so obvious what he was thin
king about.
I’m not the man I used to be. My leg will never be whole again, and neither will I.
“I’ll be out in a sec,” Nate said, biting his tongue against the words he was so close to snapping out, so close to telling his brother to screw the bull wrangling and spend the afternoon alone.
Holt looked uncomfortable again. “I’ll wait outside.”
Nate walked into his room and pulled a pair of jeans from the floor where he’d left them earlier. One minute he thought he’d made progress, that maybe there was a chance of things reverting back to almost normal again. And the next he came crashing back to reality, knowing that no matter what happened, he’d always be the outcast now.
He’d made choices that had changed his life forever, and he doubted anything would ever feel normal again, no matter what the future had in store for him. He’d loved his early years in the army, but now the one year that he’d hated seemed to tarnish everything in his life.
“You need to talk to someone, Jimmy. I can’t cover for you any longer.”
Jim inhaled the cigarette like his life depended on it, and Nate recoiled from the sharp aroma. “I’m fine. I just need you to get off my back and leave me the hell alone.”
“If you’re not focused out there, one of us could die. I need you to be all there, Jimmy, please. One last op and they might look at letting us retire early, okay? We can go home, get out of here and start over. Take a job training recruits or something. Get back to loving what we do every day.”
He watched his friend shake his head, still drawing back hard on the cigarette. Nate hadn’t known when Jimmy had started smoking, but now he seemed to go through packet after packet.
“You don’t need to worry about me, all right? If I’m not okay I’ll do something about it myself.”
Nate tugged a fresh T-shirt over his head and made for the door. It didn’t matter where he was or who he was with, nothing could change what had happened to him. Because seeing Jimmy in his mind, reliving those conversations, the nightmares he had every night and the constant pain in his leg—they’d remind him of his past for the rest of his life.