In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) (26 page)

“Leave those, darling, I’ll fix them in a minute. Come and sit down. I want to talk to you.”

There was that uneasy grip on his chest that always came when a woman, any woman, announced she wanted to talk. After his session with Clive the other night, he’d decided to make the effort to eat with his parents a couple of times a week. He questioned the wisdom of that decision as he sat at the small breakfast table opposite his mother. Her blue eyes were steady but held the concern that had bloomed in the early days since his return.

“Where’s the rest of you, son?” She’d clasped her hands together on the table in that way that said she was holding advice she needed to share.

“What do you mean?”

“Not all of you came home from America.”

Silence. Hell, blindsided by my own mother
.
His heart changed gear, and his gaze skittered around the kitchen. Now he had empathy for Marlo’s need to pace.

Clive must have talked
.

His system flooded with every emotion he’d suppressed since he had arrived home and driving the surge was the anger that now it seemed Clive had betrayed his confidence.

“You left part of you behind. She must be very important to have unsettled you this way.” His mother’s cool dry fingers curled around his hand, covering his wedding ring, giving him a small squeeze of encouragement.

So, not Clive, but a mother’s intuition. This was worse.

“What’s her name?”

He didn’t want to think about Marlo and sure didn’t want to discuss her, so he shrugged. The look his mother gave him made him feel about ten years old.

Tell her, idiot. Don’t denigrate Marlo by denying her existence.
“Marlo. Her name is Marlo.” His voice was unsteady.

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Yeah.” He stayed focused on her hand. Was she deliberately covering his wedding ring?

“Does Marlo feel the same way about you?”

“I don’t know anymore. We haven’t had contact since I came back to New Zealand. She’s getting on with her life, and I’m getting on with mine. It’s the way she wanted it. I have to respect that.”

“Except she has something of yours, and it’s a mother’s guess that you have something of hers, too. What’s holding you back? Is it Emma? Because she wouldn’t—”

He pulled his hand from her grasp. “Please don’t say Emma wouldn’t want me to be single forever, or unhappy, or alone, or whatever you were going to say, because no one knows what Emma would have wanted. We were a bit young to have had those ‘when I die…’
conversations. Speculating is pointless. When the time is right for me, when the right person is in my life, it won’t be a matter of what Emma would have wanted, because it will simply be right.” He fingered his wedding ring. “If you think for one minute I’m backing off because of Emma, you’re wrong. I’m alive, Emma is dead, and I intend to keep living, so I don’t need my future sanctioned by somebody’s idea of what Emma would have wanted.”

When he looked up, his mother was still watching him with those steady blue eyes into which he’d managed to squeeze a little drop of pain.
Because I’m a prick, to my own mother.

“Hurting all over again, Adam?” Her voice was gentle.

Hurting? Yeah, she could still land an emotional blow to a cold heart when necessary.
“Listen, Ma, I’m fine. Marlo and I, we had a bit of a fling. We had fun. I miss her.”

Great, now he’d grabbed the chance to act like a prick about Marlo, too
.
Jesus, if his heart would slow down, he might be able to get a handle on things.

“It’s taking me a bit to settle in back here, on the farm, but I’ll be right in a week or two.” He gave her a smile that flashed like a fifty-dollar fake Rolex—sparkling on the outside and cheap underneath.

She went to the dishwasher. “You’re not fooling anyone, Adam. You of all people know how quickly life is extinguished. Don’t shortchange yourself. And if this Marlo means to you what she appears to, well, you’re shortchanging her, too.”

“I’m needed here on the farm. I want to help out, take some of the stress off you and Dad and Clive.”

“You don’t think it’s stressful watching an unhappy son?”

“I’m not unhappy.”

“Listen to me.” Her face was stern, and he was ten year’s old all over again. “You’re not like Clive. Clive’s a farmer. You’ll never be happy on the farm. You always looked for something more, something a bit meatier to get your teeth into. Your father and I realized that about you at a very early age. It’s why we encouraged you to join the police. You like helping people and you’re good at that, but don’t confuse that desire to help with a misplaced sense of duty to your family.”

He could feel the emotion swelling in his chest, and he dealt with it quickly to stop himself saying anything else that could hurt his mother. He pushed his chair back and went to her. “I’ll get going. Thanks for dinner.” He pressed his lips on her dry cheek.

She caught him with a steely tone when she said his name. “Adam.”

He stopped by the door.

“Contact Marlo. Find a way to sort this out.”

Like I haven’t thought hard enough about that, already.

A
dam stood and stretched
. He hadn’t dealt with so much bureaucracy and paperwork since he was in the Police. CRAR had secured funding for a year’s trial to set up the quick response unit for dog fighting in the Asia/Pacific region. In between times, they wanted him in the U.S. to continue to fine tune their operations there. They had also secured use of another thousand acres bordering on Dog Haven Sanctuary. Not only were their plans astonishing, they included Adam.

The little buzz of excitement since the job offer over a week earlier never faded. He worked with the idea of telling Marlo he was coming back, but he was scared. Afraid that he would let her down again. And if he did, that small hope he nurtured that they might one day have a life together, would be defeated. She would never take the risk of letting him hurt her again.

His future was at the mercy of a faceless Immigration Department, and that was almost more than he could bear.

34


T
rouble
?” Marlo asked. At midday it was odd to see Lulah sitting alone under the big white oak instead of her usual place as Queen Entertainer of the lunchroom.

Lulah shrugged. “Not sure.”

Marlo sat alongside her. “Come on, share.”

“That’s rich coming from you, boss.” Lulah nudged her arm.

“I’ve been trying,” Marlo protested.

“You’ve been very trying.”

“So, come on, let it our.”

“I’m worried about Vince.” Lulah was turning her phone over and over in her hands. “Three days now I’ve been calling, and I can’t get a response.”

“Maybe he’s taken himself on one of his solo hikes.”

Lulah shook her head. “Nah, he hasn’t dropped Calliope off to me, and he won’t take her when he goes solo. Plus…”

Marlo waited. A hesitant Lulah was not something she’d seen before. Finally, she had to prompt her. “Plus?”

“I don’t know…we were getting on really well, and last week he pulled right back. He’d started coming to movie and pizza night with the others around here. We had a casual arrangement to go mountain biking and when I called him about it I couldn’t get through. Later I was able to text him but I haven’t heard anything back. He was starting to show up every day at the Sanctuary. We’d, you know, have lunch together. Now, nothing. It really feels as if he’s avoiding me. We’re only friends, Marlo, nothing scary.”

“Maybe he sees it different, and you’ve got to admit, we really don’t know what is scary for Vince. You know him better than anyone around here does. You don’t think he’d harm himself, do you?” Marlo watched her intently. She had noticed a closeness developing between Lulah and Vince, and was a bit uneasy about it. Mainly out of concern for her friend. She really liked Vince, liked that he seemed to recognize the issues he had and that he was trying to deal with them in a way that didn’t drag anyone along for that daunting ride. She could see that, like her, he tried to deal with stuff alone. She got that. She really got that, but now she understood that going it alone was a strategy that sucked.

“I can’t be with him like this, Marlo. My father…heck, I love him to bits…but he is
so
unreliable. I’m not having another man in my life like that.”

Oh, there’s a tell. “So have you and Vince been—”

“No…God, no. Have you ever touched him?”

Marlo shook her head.

“I gave him this, you know, spontaneous sort of hug one day, and he went rigid. But not rigid in the part where you want a man to go rigid. His entire body stiffened…except the good bit. The good bit never got involved.”

“Jesus, Lulah.”

“The guy’s ultra-hot!”

She didn’t want to see Lulah hurt—emotionally or physically—and until she learned more about Vince, she wasn’t going to back any sort of relationship. She slipped an arm around her. “Leave it with me. I’m going into town this afternoon, so I’ll do a drive-by on his house and check on him.”

Lulah looked up, her eyes bright. “Thanks.”

‘Thanks’, yeah, I hope so.

M
arlo pulled
up outside Vince’s house. The place was small, maybe two bedrooms, old and obsessively well kept. The lawns were short, edges trimmed, garden clipped into submission so that it all looked neat…and uptight. She stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. Then knocked and waited several more times before testing the handle. The door was locked. She called to Vince, identifying herself and finally the door opened.

Pausing at the entrance, Marlo made a quick assessment of the room without moving from the doorway. There didn’t appear to be any sort of threat, but that message was taking a bit to connect with the hammering in her chest.

“Marlo.”

She jumped when she heard her name. Vince was in the shadow to her left as if he’d been hiding behind the door. Gratitude for Adam’s calming exercises rushed through her when she tested a steady voice. “Vince, hey, sorry to intrude. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.”

His voice sounded wrong. Another quick sweep of the room, and she realized he was in crisis. It looked as though someone had been living under siege; in fact, camping under the small kitchen table. And that knife. The large bread knife on the floor beside the sleeping bag, tinned food, and water was setting off her early warning system. She did her best to beat down another rush of alarm. Calliope trotted across the room to welcome her and that helped slow her racing heart.

“Come inside. Can you close the door?”

Her own hyper-vigilance had stepped up, and every process she’d built said she shouldn’t close the door, shouldn’t cut off her escape route. Another quick scan of the room confirmed that once she closed the door she was trapped. She pushed through the indecision. Vince needed her to believe in him
.
She stepped in, shut the door, and moved over to the counter.

Vince stayed in the shadow.

“Rough time, huh?” she asked. His appearance suggested he’d been a few days away from a razor.

“Yeah. Can you do something for me?”

“Of course.”

“Can you check the roof of the house next door and see if there’s a guy up there?”

Oh, God, what’s happened? She hadn’t noticed anyone on the neighbor’s roof, but she checked for him, anyway. “All clear, Vince.”

He stepped out of the shadows, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple. “I thought so. I know that, now.” He paused, and Marlo stood quietly, giving him time. “I saw someone on the roof yesterday. I thought there was a sniper. I must be going crazy.”

“You’re not, Vince.” She said gently. “I know that you’re not. Another thing I know is that what you’re going through is really debilitating.”

His fists tightened. “You have no idea what I’m going through.”

“I have PTSD. You have PTSD. We have it for different reasons, our triggers are different, but I know what PTSD is. I’m not belittling your experience; I certainly don’t pretend to understand it, but I know you are in pain and in a place you don’t want to be.” She waited, keeping watch on his fists and the rigid cord of muscle in his neck. Pent-up energy poured off him in waves. She had to get him calmer
.
“Why don’t you try some of that tactical breathing I’m sure you’ve learned?”

“You have PTSD?”

“Yeah, I do—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Uh-huh. Now, what about the breathing?”

He nodded, and, in her mind, she counted the seconds of his breath intake, hold, exhale, and hold again. Gradually the tension eased until his fists unfurled, and his shoulders released. “Better?”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”

She let herself smile. “I am too.”

“I want you to take Calliope back.”

Woah, didn’t see that coming. Marlo shook her head. “No, you need her.”

“I don’t want the responsibility. I can’t care for her. She puts pressure on me.” Calliope lay at his feet, totally focused on him.

“No, she doesn’t, Vince; she does the exact opposite. She watches out for you. She won’t make any demands, nor will she judge you. She will keep your secrets and never stop loving you no matter what you tell her.”

He took a deep breath as if drawing in courage. “I’m frightened I’ll hurt her.”

Oh, God. Everything in her wanted to go to Vince, draw him into her arms and hold him until his pain became tolerable. “I wouldn’t have let you take her if I believed there was a risk of you hurting her.”

She had a flash of the time in her kitchen when she thought Justice had been put to sleep. The moment when Adam, arms held wide, simply wanted to comfort her. She had rejected him, by taking all the compassion and concern he had for her and shoving it back at him. Her eyes burned and a nasty little lump clogged her throat, as his words rang in her ears: Comforting, Marlo. It’s a normal response…it’s what people do.

She had to do it for Vince. It might be the wrong move, but she wouldn’t leave the house without trying.

She stepped towards him, opening her arms as she neared. The misery on his face changed quickly to alarm as she drew closer. Marlo hesitated. Now she wasn’t so sure. He was a fit, strong Marine, well-skilled in combat fighting. Those forearms, hell, he could so easily harm her. She had to prove to him that she trusted he would never do that.

“Come on, Vince, to me,” she said gently. “I know it’s all loud and crazy in your head at the moment. Let me help you bring the volume down a bit.”

He shook his head. “I can’t, please don’t…”

She kept her arms open and took another step. “How long since someone held you?”

He was silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer.

His gaze dropped to the floor. “Too long,” he whispered.

She took that last step and slipped her arms beneath his, clamped tight at his side. She spoke into his body. “Let me hold you, as a friend.” Her arms didn’t meet around his broad back, and he felt so tense, he might snap. “Breathe, Vince.”

Finally, his breath came deep, and, as he exhaled, a great shudder ran through his body, and with the next deep breath came the tears. Together, she and Vince slid down against the wall to the floor and held each other as he gave in to the misery that shook him.

At last, his tension ebbed and the tears ran out. He pulled back, looked at Marlo, and gave a small smile. “I’m safe. It’s not happening now.”

Marlo squeezed him and smiled at the classic PTSD grounding line he’d given her. “No, it’s not happening now. Welcome back.”

They sat together quietly for some minutes before Vince spoke.

“I think I’ll take Calliope out to the lakes this afternoon for a swim.”

Oh, thank you, universe.
“Great idea. She’ll love that. And, Vince, let me work on something. We can train Calliope to help you, so that she’ll always have your back. They’re doing a lot of good things with dogs helping vets with PTSD.”

“I dunno.”

“That’s okay. Let me see what I can come up with.”

He smiled. That was good. A smile, right now, was enough. “Can I share something with you, and after that, I’ll go. It’s something I’d like you to think about if you can.”

“Sure.”

Marlo almost laughed. Right now he looked as though he’d agree to dying his hair pink, and wearing a tutu to the mall, if it would get her out of his face. “First, I want you to know that I won’t discuss with anyone anything that happened here today, so I don’t want you to be concerned about that.”

Vince nodded.

“I’m guessing you’re in counseling, and, if you’re not, maybe that’s something we can talk about when you’re ready.”

“I have a counselor.”

“Great. Do you keep appointments?”

“Mostly.”

If nothing, he’s honest. “I know how difficult it is to ask for help. That’s something I’ve only recently learned to do. Adam taught me how. It’s one of the most important life skills you can have, and for people like you and me, it’s a very difficult skill to learn.

“Lulah and I are always here for you. You only need to call or send a text, and we’ll listen. Lulah is fantastic, Vince. She never puts pressure on you, and she doesn’t get in your face. She simply listens.”

Vince shook his head. “Not Lulah.”

“Can you tell me why?”

He reached with one hand to his forehead, pressing his temples between his thumb and middle finger. “Not really…I like her too much. I’m not going to drag her into the mess that I am.”

“Why not give her the opportunity to make that decision with you?”

“No way.”

Marlo could see the anxiety returning to his face. “Okay,” she said gently. “That’s fine. Do remember that we’re here for you, any hour, any day. I’ll get on my way, now. Enjoy your swim.” As she reached to open the door, Vince stopped her.

“How’s Adam?” he asked.

Oh, nice shot.
“I don’t know.” She kept her back to him as a rush of heat colored her face.

“You didn’t want him in your mess, either.”

Not at first. Not until he showed her that together they could make it better. She turned back to him. He needed to see the honesty in her face, the truth in her words. “Wrong, Vince. I went the distance in the end, and it was worth it.”

Vince grinned. “Good. But from what I see, you guys didn’t go the distance. You only started that race. You haven’t reached the finish line, yet. Why not go and find out how he is?”

M
arlo released
Fala’s muzzle and listened for the telltale click of the pill hitting the floor which meant she’d spat it out. The dog had become quite clever, pretending to swallow her meds, only to spit them out moments later. “Come on, girl, do it for your sick kidneys.” Do it for Adam.

Carrying her coffee, she followed Fala out of the room and watched the dog find a warm spot on the patio on which to lie. For a brief time, Adam had been the one to administer Fala’s meds. Of course, she’d taken them from him and swallowed, wagged her tail, and waited for the reward of a piece of hotdog. When Marlo tried the same method, Fala turned her head and walked off, jaw firmly shut.

Turned out, both she and the dog were happy to try out things for Adam that they wouldn’t do for anyone else. She sat on the daybed and conjured the image of him in New Zealand. The one where she had him seated on the porch of his cottage, surrounded by ancient trees and crashing surf.

She knew she’d made progress since he’d left, though it still took all her strength of will not to press the send button on the email she wrote to him each evening. Sure, she saved each draft, but she wouldn’t send. She used the emails the way others kept a journal; telling him about her day, her thoughts, fears, the new things she tried, how much she missed him. How she missed his touch and kind words and waking in the night nestled against his hard, hot body…making love with him. Yeah, she sure missed that.

She didn’t send the email messages, but she tried so damned hard to send him one telepathically. What a fool
.
Each night in bed, after she switched off her lamp, she would touch his pillow and whisper two words. Come back
.
Then she would envision Justice making his way through the forest and send the same message to him.

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