“A little of both, I think,” she said.
“He really took to that little guy, but it’s understandable. Jamie’s quite a dog.”
She let the tears she’d held back fall freely. Her dad gave her time to cry it out and then handed her a wad of paper towels to blow her nose with.
When she did, he asked, “So, now what else is going on?”
“I think Jack’s suffering from PTSD.”
Her father sat back and crossed his arms in what Cait recognized as his thinking pose. “You sure?”
“I double-checked the symptoms online.”
“The Internet isn’t infallible.”
“I know, Pop,” she said, “but it’s only happened during a thunderstorm. I read where it could sound like an explosion and trigger a reaction.”
He nodded. “Have you talked to him about it?”
“I’ve tried, but he just shuts me out. I need to help him face whatever he has locked inside him.”
“Maybe he already has,” her father told her.
“But then why is he acting like this?”
“Like what?”
She wouldn’t let her embarrassment of confirming what her dad probably guessed—that she and Jack had been sleeping together—get in the way of the telling. “The first time it happened, the thunder woke me up, and I saw him hunched over on the floor like he was trying to shield something—or someone—with his body and he kept yelling ‘IED.’”
He father waited for her to continue.
“Last night, a huge crack of thunder woke me, but I couldn’t breathe. He was lying on top of me, trying to shield me, but I couldn’t get him to listen—he was trapped in whatever nightmare he goes into.”
“How did you get him to wake up?”
“I had to knee him.”
“I see. And when he finally woke up, what happened?”
“I tried to get him to talk to me, but he wouldn’t. He just walked away.”
“So you just left him?”
“I kept waiting for him to come back upstairs, but after a while, I knew he wasn’t going to. He was asleep on the deck, wrapped in a blanket. I didn’t want to wake him…so I left.”
“You think he did that so he wouldn’t take the chance of hurting you?”
“Yeah,” she rasped. “Pop, I love him…what am I going to do?”
“Let me think on it.”
She blew her nose again and cleared the table. “What if we can’t help him?”
“Jack’s a smart man, Cait,” he said. “He may already be in treatment. Did you think of that?”
“No.” She hadn’t. “Then why—”
“I had a buddy who suffered from PTSD,” he told her. “He could go for months at a time without suffering and then something would set him off and he would have an episode.”
“What did he do?”
“He kept seeing his doctor and tried to analyze the warning signs to keep on top of things and prevent a full-blown episode.”
“And it worked?”
“Most of the time,” he said. “It may take years, and it might never fully go away, but my friend learned to live with it and control it. I might have a way to help Jack come to terms with the fact that his condition is controllable to a point. Why don’t you let me tell Gracie to reschedule your day?”
“I’m fine, Pop. I’ll be better if I’m busy.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, pulling her in for a bear hug.
When she’d gone for the day, Joe got on the phone. “Jerry, it’s me, Joe—I need your help.”
***
Jack woke cold and alone. Stiff from falling asleep in a chair on the deck, he stretched to loosen the knots in his spine and bad leg. “Brilliant, Gannon,” he grumbled, limping inside. Wondering if Cait was still sleeping, he walked inside and listened.
“Too quiet.” He missed the scrambling of puppy feet as Jamie ran into the kitchen or bounded up the stairs. He’d get used to it, but it might take some time.
“Cait?”
When she didn’t answer, he called again. Unease slithered through his gut, as he took the stairs two at a time only to find his bed empty and Caitlin long gone.
He stared at the rumpled bed and a flash of the woman he’d turned inside out and backward with their lovemaking filled his heart and his head. “You’re too stupid to deserve a woman like her.”
A glance at the clock told him it was time to get cleaned up for work. The hot water eased the tension from his back, but not his leg. It was going to be a long day. He couldn’t decide if he should go to the office early or track Cait down at her house.
He sent her a text, but she didn’t answer it. “Big surprise.” He’d had his chance and he flubbed it, but he wasn’t going to give up on her. She promised she’d stick. He was going to hold her to that promise.
He might have to learn to live without his best furry friend, but he’d be damned if he’d live without Caitlin. Taking a chance, he called the Mulcahys’ house.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Joe. It’s Jack, can I talk to Cait?”
“She’s at the shop. Did you call her cell?”
“I texted her, but she didn’t answer me.”
“What time’s your first appointment?” Joe asked.
“In about an hour. Why?”
“Stop by the house,” Joe told him. “I’d like to talk to you.”
How could Jack say no? “Be there in a few.”
Pulling up into the driveway of the Mulcahys’ house felt weird, knowing that Cait wasn’t there and that he was about to have a face-to-face conversation with her father—had she talked to her dad about last night?
Shit. How did you have a conversation with the father of the woman you’ve been sleeping with? Cut to the chase and admit it—making love to, because what he had with Cait was way more than just physical. He wanted a lifetime with her.
Joe came out of the house as he parked his Jeep and got out.
“Glad you could stop by.” Joe looked him up and down. “You look like hell.”
Jack nodded. “Rough night.”
“Heard about part of it.”
When he didn’t say anymore, Jack waited, knowing it was bound to come out.
“Scared my little girl.”
“Joe…Mr. Mulcahy—”
“Joe’s fine,” he told Jack. “I just have one question.”
Whew, Jack thought, and waited.
“Are you finished with her?”
Jack waited a heartbeat and then asked, “Excuse me?”
“Something wrong with your hearing, Gannon?”
“No.”
“Then answer the question.”
“No, sir.”
“Is that your answer or your stance?”
Jack had to chuckle at that. “My answer, Joe. I love Caitlin.”
“Hmmpfh. You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
“She’s the one who walked out on me.”
“As I hear tell it, she waited for you to come back after you scared the shit out of her by using your body to protect her from an IED.”
All of the blood rushed to Jack’s feet. She’d figured out what he’d been trying so hard to control. How did it happen?
Was it the storm?
Was it the stress of having to give Jamie back?
Joe tugged on Jack’s arm to get him to walk with him. Instead of the barn, where he knew Joe spent a lot of his time, he walked toward the field out back. “I have a buddy who suffers from PTSD. He’s going for help and manages to keep it under control.”
Jack nodded. “I’m not due to see the doctor at the VA for another couple of months.”
Relief flooded Joe’s features. “I knew I was right.”
“About?”
“I do,” Jack agreed. “Everything was fine until that first storm.”
“By storm, do you mean my second born or the weather?”
Jack stopped walking and looked into Cait’s father’s eyes. “Both, maybe. It hasn’t happened in a while. I’ve been keeping on top of the weather to know when a storm is on the way, but Cait distracted me.”
“She has that talent,” Joe said.
“You could say that.”
“What are you going to do about it, Jack?” He turned around to walk back toward the driveway. “She deserves to know what’s going on so she can understand it. My girls are strong enough to handle anything.”
“She said she’d stick…but she left me,” Jack rasped.
“Did you give her a choice?”
Jack shrugged. “I guess not. But I thought she knew…after last night—”
“Would that be before or after the thunderstorm?”
Jack opened his mouth and then closed it tight. Joe could boil him in oil, but there were some things that should remain private…what happened between him and Cait the night before was precious and was theirs.
Joe acknowledged Jack’s silence and changed the subject. “Gracie has Cait’s schedule if you’re thinking about catching up with her partway through the day to apologize.”
“I—” Instead of words, Jack held out his hand to Joe. When the older man took it, Jack nodded. “Thanks.”
Joe nodded and said, “I’m always willing to give a man a second chance…but that’s all I’ll give him before I come after him for hurting one of my girls.”
Jack swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat. Cait and her dad were willing to give him another chance. He was smart; he was taking it and he wasn’t gonna mess it up.
“Yes, sir.” With a wave, he got into his Jeep, put it in reverse, and hightailed it into town; he had to stop at Mulcahys before his first appointment was due to arrive.
Grace was sitting in front of her computer terminal, same as always, when he pushed open the door. “Hi, Grace.”
She looked up at him and then back down at her keyboard. “What do you want?”
How had word spread that fast? “I was hoping you could tell me where Cait would be around noon.”
Without looking up, she asked, “Why?”
He held on to what was left of his pride. “I need to talk to her…I need to apologize.”
“Really?” The hopeful tone in her voice tipped him off that Cait’s sister might not know what happened; she just figured out from Cait’s mood that something did happen.
“Really. So how about it?”
With a few clicks, Grace was scanning the schedule. “She’ll be over at Miss Trudi’s this afternoon, installing a pump for her new koi pond.”
“Thanks, Grace.”
With a spring in his step, Jack walked back outside and drove back to his office. Three minutes later, his first appointment walked in. He was ready to face the day and was anticipating seeing Caitlin.
A few hours later, he was headed to Miss Trudi’s. He had to drive so he wouldn’t take the chance of being late for his afternoon appointments. Going slowly down Apple Grove Road, he pulled up behind the black F1 and parked.
“Anybody home?” he called out, walking through the maze of plants and planters that Miss Trudi Philo had displayed. He heard them before he saw them.
“Well, I’ll be,” he heard Miss Trudi exclaim. “It works.”
“Like a charm,” Cait answered. “Now all you need to do is flip this switch, but if I were you, I’d leave it on unless there’s an electrical short somewhere. The fish need that water aerated.”
“You’re a clever one, Miss Cait.”
“Thanks.”
“Hello, Caitlin,” he called out, catching her off guard. The longing on her face eased part of his worry.
“I’m busy, Jack.”
“Caitlin, that’s no way to speak to Doc Gannon.” Miss Trudi shook her head. “I’m sure she’s just tired. You can tell from the dark circles beneath her eyes.”
My fault, he thought. “Yes. I can. Maybe she needs one of my dad’s tonics.”
Miss Trudi’s eyes lit up and her face beamed. “I think she just might. I have some in the house. Be right back.”
“You just said that so she’d leave us alone.”
“And if I did?” he challenged.
She blew out a breath and threw her hands in the air. “Jack, I need to focus on the repair schedule for today.”
He grabbed her hand and tugged on it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you last night.”
She turned in his arms and stared up at him.
“You said you would stick,” he reminded her.
“I’m sorry, Jack. After you walked out, I didn’t know what to do.”
“You left me,” he whispered.
“I had to.” Tears filled her eyes. “I needed to do some research, and I needed to think.” She left him in order to help him, just as he’d left her alone in his bedroom to protect her. They both wanted the same thing; it was something in common…something to hold tight to.
He brushed his lips to her forehead and laid her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. There are things that are hard for me to talk about. Iraq is one of them.”
“I want to help.”
“I go for help every few months. I was doing all right until a certain woman turned my well-ordered existence upside down with her smile.”
“I did?”
“Didn’t you?” When she shrugged, he went on, “Since the night we rescued Jamie, my focus hasn’t been on warning signs that the PTSD was ready to break loose again…it has been on you.”
“What can I do?”
“I need you to be patient with me.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm, watching intently as she shivered.
“Will you tell me about it?”
He looked away and then back down into her upturned face. “Not yet…but soon.”
She nodded. “OK.”
“Caitlin?” Miss Trudi called out.
“I don’t believe it,” Cait groaned. “Is that brown bottle what I think it is?”
Jack laughed. “Yep—Dad’s tonic.”
“Does it taste bad?”
“If it tasted good, it wouldn’t work.”
“Lovely.” She waved at the older woman and promised Jack, “You’ll pay for this one.”
“Thanks, ladies,” he said, walking back through the plants. “I’ve got a one o’clock coming. Can’t be late.”
“What a nice young man,” Miss Trudi said. “And so good-looking too.”
Caitlin stared after him without speaking. When she turned around, Miss Trudi was holding out the bottle to her. “One teaspoonful, morning and night.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take your tonic.”
“Land sakes, child,” Miss Trudi told her. “I’ve got a half-dozen more in the house.”
Resigned, she took the bottle. “Thanks. I’ll just clean up and be on my way.”
Miss Trudi was smiling when she handed Cait a spoon.
Knowing when she’d been beaten, she took the spoon and the tonic. “Good grief, that tastes awful!”
“That’s how you know it will work, dear.”
Bending down, she nabbed the water bottle she always had on the job and drank down the rest of it. At least it cut the taste lingering in her mouth. “What’s in there?”
“Herbs and things.”
“Yuck.”
“Oh, but you should see the fire in your eyes right now, dear. Old Doc Gannon’s tonic always did work quickly.”
Cait shook her head and c
leaned up her tools. Saying good-bye to Miss Trudi, she loaded up the truck and headed off to the next job on her list.
It was hard realizing that she didn’t have to stop off at Jack’s to take care of Jamie. Wondering how the little guy was doing, she decided she’d shoot off a text to Rhonda when she stopped at the shop to pick up supplies.
Rhonda didn’t have anything concrete, but she did uncover the fact that Ms. Blackwell came from a prominent Columbus family.
“Guess she didn’t earn that car she drove…probably a gift from Daddy.”
Gathering the tools and supplies she’d need for the afternoon, she was surprised, then pleased to see a text from Jack: Dinner at my place? I’m buying.
She sent off her acceptance and focused on the next few jobs, so she could finish up on time and head on over to the place that was rapidly beginning to feel like home. If only she could find something wrong with Ms. Blackwell, she could tell the sheriff and have him go after her, so she could bring Jamie home where he belonged.
Exhausted, dirty, and beyond hungry, Cait called Jack to tell him she’d be later than expected. When he answered, she found herself smiling. “Hey, it’s me. I’m on my way home to get cleaned up…I am icky dirty.”
“What’s wrong with my shower?”
“I didn’t want to you to think I was taking advantage—”
“Cait,” he interrupted. “Don’t go home, come here…I need to see you here in the middle of my stuff. I want you in my shower. I’ve got something to tell you when you get here. OK?”
She blew out a breath and pulled a careful K-turn on Cherry Valley so she could get back on Eden Church Road. “I just turned around. I’m headed your way.”
“Good,” he said softly before saying good-bye.
Lighter in heart, she pulled into Jack’s driveway. She felt a hitch when she didn’t see Jamie’s little black fuzzy face at the window, but the welcome on Jack’s face when he opened the door and pulled her into his arms more than made up for it.
He kissed her soundly and then pushed her through the kitchen. “Hurry back.”
She put on the brakes. “But I just got here!”
He kissed her cheek and grinned. “You’re right, you are icky dirty.”
One Day in Apple Grove Page 20