The Door at the Top of the Stairs (4 page)

Ryland held up her hand, guided Morgan into the house and shut the door. She walked over to an overstuffed chair and sat, waiting patiently while Morgan went to another chair and angrily lowered herself into it. They sat quietly until Morgan took a deep breath. “All right, I'm fine now. Say what you want to say."

Ryland waited. She hadn't lived with Morgan for ten years without learning patience.

Morgan started in. “I had to pull her out of the middle of a bar fight today. She pulled my hair and practically threw me over her shoulder, then challenged me when I told her to get in the truck.

I've had it with your experiment, Ryland. I want her out of here!"

"Why was she in the fight?"

"Jimbo and Tom ganged up on Hank and she thought it was her job to even up the odds."

Ryland nodded, but didn't say anything. It was always better to let Morgan figure things out for herself. After a little while she asked, "Why did she almost throw you over her shoulder?"

"I grabbed her in a head lock to get her out of the fight."

"From behind?"

"Yes, from behind!" She glared at Ryland because she knew exactly what she was getting at. "Okay, she didn't know it was me, and when she heard my voice, she stopped fighting." Morgan tried to stay angry, but as she listened to herself she felt a little foolish.

"Fine...okay, fine...she can stay, but you go tell her. I don't want to deal with her anymore today."

Ryland walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. She took out an ice pack, returned, and handed it to Morgan. "It looked like she was starting a nice black eye. You might want to take this down with you."

Morgan grabbed the ice pack and headed out the door.

Sometimes she wished Ryland didn’t know her as well as she did.

When she reached the barn, Jesse was sitting outside with her back up against the wall. Morgan tossed the ice pack at her. “Here. Put this on your eye."

Jesse set the pack beside her. “I don't need it."

Morgan focused on the roof of the barn. “Why do you have to argue with everything I say?"

Dejection sounded in her voice as Jesse picked up the ice pack and held it to her eye. "I don't know."

Morgan studied her, then turned and sat on the ground with her back against the barn, legs drawn up, arms resting on her knees.

Jesse put her head against the barn and closed her eyes. “I don't know why I do a lot of things."

Morgan picked up a stone and flicked it toward some ants that were crawling around a dead bug. "I lost my temper today. I was wrong to fire you."

"No you weren't. You never should have hired me in the first place."

Morgan laughed. “Well, at least we agree on one thing." For the first time since she'd known her, Morgan actually saw Jesse smile. Not a big smile, but enough to grab onto. "Look, neither of us is perfect. I'll try to lighten up on you if you try to play by my rules. Deal?" She held out her hand to Jesse who looked at it but didn't take it right away. Playing by other people's rules had never been easy for her. She slowly raised her hand and clasped Morgan’s in a strong handshake. It wouldn't kill her to try.

Morgan watched as Jesse leaned her head back against the barn and closed her eyes again. There would always be unhappy people in the world, and she'd had her share of surly employees, but she'd never kept one for more than a few days because their egos usually couldn't keep up with her temper. She pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dirt from the back of her pants.

“Tomorrow 's the first day of cubbing. That means we take the young hounds out and teach them to hunt. My hunt staff will be here, and a couple of people from the club. I'll need Aristotle and Barney saddled by six-thirty. Then you'll need to help everyone else with their tack or whatever they need done."

Jesse didn't move.

Morgan shook her head as she turned to walk back to the house. She didn't know how long she could last, but she trusted Ryland and would give Jesse the benefit of the doubt for as long as possible.

Chapter Five

The first day of cubbing arrived with hectic, last-minute details and frenzied questions from her hunt staff. Morgan loved every minute of it. Cubbing was a time to introduce the younger hounds and foxes to hunting, and it took several outings to iron out the details after a long summer break.

Once all the initial problems had been seen to and she was ready to call for the hounds, she looked up to see Jesse helping one of the club members into his saddle. Bear, one of the dogs who hung around the barn, stood next to Jesse, and Morgan realized she'd forgotten to tell her to kennel him. "Jesse, would you come here a minute, please?"

Jesse finished helping the man adjust his saddle before starting over. While she waited, Morgan tucked her hunting whip under her arm and ran her fingers through Aristotle's coarse mane. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jesse start her way, then stop abruptly.

Morgan looked down to see what was wrong.

Jesse's face went from tan to pale to ghost white in a matter of seconds. She stared at Morgan's whip and backed up, finally turning as if to run. Directly behind her, Andy, one of the whippers-in, had just let down his whip and was recoiling it into a tighter loop. Jesse started back again, tripped over Bear and fell backward into the dirt. She scrambled up and pushed through the horses before disappearing around the side of the barn. Morgan saw Ryland dismount and quickly followed suit, catching up to her just as she reached the corner of the barn.

Ryland stopped her before they went any further. “I don't know what happened, but leave your whip here. I think that's what set her off."

Morgan dropped the whip onto a bale of hay and climbed over the bale, Ryland close on her heels. They found Jesse squatting with her back up against the barn, her head on her knees. Ryland knelt beside her. “Hey, what's wrong?"

When Jesse looked up, Ryland was startled to see sweat beading her forehead. "Nothing. I...I just needed some fresh air, that's all. Too many people."

Ryland didn't buy that for a second. "Jesse, what happened back there? Why did you run away?"

"I didn't run away. Get the fuck away from me!" She pushed herself to a standing position, shoved past Morgan and hopped onto the bale of hay to get away. The second she saw the whip coiled between her feet, an electric shock surged from her head straight down through her heart and everything went black.

Morgan grabbed her before she hit the ground. She'd fallen face first, and when Morgan moved to turn her over, she felt Ryland's hand on her shoulder.

"Wait." Ryland stared at the lower part of Jesse's back where her t-shirt had come un-tucked. Morgan followed her gaze and saw a strange pattern of scars crisscrossing the exposed skin on the girl's back. She lowered her the rest of the way to the ground and watched as Ryland checked to make sure she was still unconscious and that no one else was around. When Ryland reached over and gently lifted the shirt, Morgan felt her skin go cold. “Holy Mother of Jesus."

Deep scars and patterns of burn marks covered every inch of Jesse's back. Ryland softly traced one of the scars before lowering the t-shirt. The two women stared at each other, too horrified at what they'd seen to speak. The sound of an excited hound jerked Morgan out of her trance and she called for Rico to come carry Jesse into her room.

Rico hopped the bale and stared at Jesse lying on the ground.

He knelt beside her and looked up at Morgan. “She okay? Good?"

He normally spoke Spanish, and his English often came out in halting, broken sentences. His gentle face betrayed his frustration at not knowing how to ask what had happened.

Some of the staff stuck their heads around the corner while Morgan ran her forearm under one of Jesse's shoulders. Rico did the same, and as they pulled her to her feet, Rico swept her legs onto his other arm. Morgan said, "I hope she's okay, Rico. We'll know more in a little while. Could you take her to her bed, please?"

Rico carried her past the curious onlookers and into her apartment, with Morgan and Ryland following close behind. Jesse kept the bed pushed into the corner of the little room. Rico walked over and gently laid her on top of the covers. Before he left , he pointed to himself. "You call, I help." He raised his eyebrows and Ryland nodded before pulling a chair close to the bed. Rico left the room as Jesse started to wake up.

Ryland sat back, her brows lowered into a thoughtful expression. She looked at Morgan, "You go on with the hunt. I'll stay here with her."

Morgan hesitated before realizing Ryland knew exactly what she was doing. She put her hand on Ryland's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before she turned and headed out to call for the hounds.

When Jesse sat up, confusion and distrust tightened her muscles. She glanced around the room, looking for Morgan. "How did I get in here?"

Ryland remained quiet for a time. “What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was leaning up against the barn."

"Why were you behind the barn?"

Jesse thought a minute, red coloring her face as she realized Ryland knew she had no idea what had happened to her. “I don't know."

Ryland crossed her legs. “Jesse, I'm curious...have you always been an itinerant worker, or did you do something else?"

"I did something else."

"Do you mind telling me what you did?"

Jesse wasn't sure why Ryland wanted to know, and she answered, warily. "I was a cop. I'm a retired cop."

Ryland raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re not old enough to have a retirement. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six."

"How many years did you work?"

"Five."

"They gave you a retirement after five years? Why?"

Jesse blushed even more because the answer confused her as much as the question. “I don't know why...they just did." She thought about the day she'd left the department. The chief had called her into his office, and the department psychologist had been there. They'd told her she wasn't fit for duty anymore, that she was too traumatized to be a cop. But there hadn't been any trauma.

She'd argued with them for more than an hour before they told her the decision was final. Her eyes had lost focus as she remembered that day, and she jumped when Ryland asked, "Did anything happen where you had to retire? Maybe an injury or an illness?"

Jesse shook her head.

"What department did you retire from?" Ryland wanted to call and make a few inquiries to find out why they'd retired her after only five years.

That was out of bounds for Jesse, who wanted nothing to do with her old department and didn't want anyone from there knowing where she was. "I don't mean any disrespect Dr.

Caldwell, but that's none of your business." As the sounds of the horses and hounds moved away, Jesse got up to leave.

"Jesse, just one more question. How did you get that scar on your back?"

Jesse reached over her shoulder and rubbed the upper part of her back. “I don't know...I didn't know I had a scar there. Look, I've got work to do." With that, she turned and headed out the door.

Ryland sat quietly, her professional curiosity aroused. She guessed Jesse was experiencing some form of dissociative amnesia, where a person doesn't recall certain traumatic events in their lives. The incidents are stored in their long-term memory, but can usually only be accessed with professional help. It explained Jesse's anger. Many of her previous patients had reported personality changes they had no control over, and anger was at the top of the list.

As she got up and left the apartment she wondered why Jesse had stumbled into their lives, and what, if anything, she could do to help.

Chapter Six

Ryland was at the house when Morgan finished with the hunt.

She sat on the couch, surrounded by books on post-traumatic stress disorder and dissociative amnesia. Morgan walked through the door, pulled off her grey hunting jacket and reached into the hall closet to hang it up. “I saw Jesse after the hunt. She acts as though nothing happened."

Ryland put down the book and took off her glasses. She rubbed the bridge of her nose where the glasses had left an indentation. “As far as she knows, nothing did happen. The last thing she remembers is leaning up against the barn. And she doesn't remember why she was behind the barn, either."

Morgan sat next to Ryland who took a sip of wine then offered her the glass. Morgan took it, turned sideways and rested her arm on the back of the couch. She reached down to pick up the book from Ryland's lap. “Obviously, whatever happened to her back has caused some major emotional issues, right?"

"Morgan, she's not even aware she
has
scars on her back."

Morgan studied her friend's face, took a sip of wine, and leaned back into the couch. “Wow."

Amusement tinged Ryland's voice. “Wow is right."

"If only we could find someone who knows something about post-traumatic stress disorder."

Ryland playfully hit Morgan on the head with a pillow.

Morgan chuckled, then turned serious again. “So what are you going to do?"

"I've been thinking about that while you've been gone, and unfortunately, it's a little more complicated than 'what am I going to do.' I'm afraid because of some complicated bonding issues that have been happening between you two the last several weeks, it has to be more like 'what are
we
going to do' if we decide to be the ones who help her."

Morgan sat forward to set her glass on the table. “Oh no...I am
not
getting involved in that. I do animals, not people. You're on your own on this one."

Ryland reached over and rubbed Morgan's back.

“Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Do you remember our discussion several weeks ago about how Jesse needed your strength somehow? That she was pushing you to reassure herself that you were still in control? It's obvious to me now what's been going on. If I had understood it earlier, I might have been able to transfer that process to another object, maybe even to me, but I doubt it. It's your strength her subconscious is grabbing, Morg, because I think she's probably pretty close to a psychotic break.