Excerpt from
Jasper Jacks
Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 3
Chapter One
“Is it just me or is she oddly non-talkative for a therapist?” Savannah asked as Mason opened the car door for her.
He shrugged and looked at Grady, who was likewise opening the back passenger door for Charli. Grady didn’t comment, but Charli did. “Maybe odd is the wrong word.”
“Then what’s the right one?” Savannah got in the car and looked over her shoulder at Charli.”
“I don’t know. Not one for small talk, maybe? Uh…” She nudged Grady, who’d just gotten into the back seat with her.
“Don’t ask me. She’s just not talkative. Nothing wrong with that.”
“It actually might be beneficial,” Mason added and at a look from Savannah continued. “Look, the people who will be coming here are recovering from some bad stuff. There’s a good chance they don’t want someone around who’s too chatty. Besides, like she said, they’re the ones who need to talk. She needs to listen.”
Savannah pursed her lips for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean any disrespect and she seems nice, but there’s just something different about her. Like, for example, why did she insist on you adding an animal rehabilitation center? What makes her think people recovering from trauma are going to want to work with wounded – oh shit, color me embarrassed, I get it. They help something else to help themselves.”
“Now you’re on the mark.” Mason smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand. “And from what we’ve heard about her, she knows her job. She’s just pretty picky about where she does it.”
“Then I guess you’re lucky to have gotten her to come here.”
“I think so.”
“Let’s just hope your first patient thinks so,” Charli commented.
“Jasper.” Grady filled in the name. “And yeah, let’s hope so, but I don’t think we should expect too much of him.”
“Why?” Savannah looked back at him.
“Because he’s been through hell and chances are, he’s got a lot of shit to get straight in his head before he can think of much but just making it through the day.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Whatever you think of as that bad, multiply it by a hundred.”
Savannah looked over at Mason. “Do you think you and Dr. Whitestone can help him?”
“I hope so.” Mason replied. “I sure hope so.”
So did Savannah. This was Mason’s dream and she wanted it to succeed. He and Grady had worked hard getting Mason’s old family home fixed up. They’d renovated the house, added on and build several smaller one- bedroom houses for staff like Dr. Whitestone, the full time nurse, housekeepers and two cooks.
There was also a bunkhouse for the hands Grady had hired to take care of the small herd of cows and half a dozen horses. He and Mason wanted this to be a working ranch as well as a rehabilitation center and that required workers.
They’d also purchased land adjacent to the original homestead and had hired half a dozen people for farming. In all, they now employed fifteen people besides themselves. She’d put a goodly sum into the project and hoped it paid off. Not for her, but for the people who worked there and the ones who came for healing.
Savannah looked into the side mirror and saw the doctor standing in the yard of Sanctuary, watching them drive away. She wondered what Etta Whitestone was thinking.
*****
Etta watched the car until it was out of sight and then turned and made her way to the medical wing. She liked that Mason and Grady had built a special wing onto the house for medical. It kept the house itself feeling homelike. And it made it easier for her to keep drugs under lock and key.
No matter how much people suffering from PTSD or other kinds of trauma wanted to heal, some came to depend on drugs for comfort and those often found themselves willing to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do when they were denied access to, or were being weaned off drugs.
The best thing for everyone was to keep that part of things separate from their daily living routine. Besides, she didn’t much believe in prescribing drugs. They only masked pain and trauma, they didn’t cure and she was one hundred percent devoted to true healing.
That thought prompted her to take a seat at her desk and access the patient files on her computer for Jasper Jacks. He was due to arrive in two days and she was more than a little apprehensive.
As she read the information again, she wondered if this case wasn’t something of a test by fire. Not that Jasper Jacks couldn’t overcome what he’d suffered, but whether she’d find the key to making that desire uppermost for him.
Etta had treated hundreds of cases of PTSD and had worked with hundreds of military personnel who’d returned home missing limbs from IED’s, or wounds so serve that amputation was the only way of saving their lives. She’d worked with people who bore no outward scars, but would carry mental wounds the rest of their lives.
Through every one of those cases, she’d maintained a steadfast belief that healing wasn’t just a possible outcome but a probable one. She committed one hundred percent to every patient she treated and invested her mental, physical and emotional energy into their healing.
Some might say, and had, that she gave too much of herself and that’s why, in her personal life she was so shut down. Etta didn’t disagree. She knew she poured her heart and soul into every case. It was the only way she knew to heal and healing had been her desire since she was five years old.
If it cost her a personal life, then maybe that’s just the way it was supposed to be. She couldn’t change who she was. If there was not a person on the planet willing to love her for who she was then she’d always be alone. Except for her patients and her animals.
And maybe that was enough. At least that’s what she told herself every day to stave off the loneliness when twilight fell and the people she worked with went home to husbands and wives and families and she went home to whatever next patient, human or animal needed her.
In two days time that focus would be on Jasper Jacks, but until then, there were already animals in the rehab who required attention. Etta exited the patient files, set the lock on the system and headed for the animal rehab center.
Had someone pointed out that she didn’t have to be focused on work every minute of the day she would have smiled and nodded, then ignored their suggestion. Her last relationship ended six years ago and she didn’t know if she would have another.
Ever.