Chapter Fifteen
Dair didn’t have the courage to ask Noah to come and lie down with her. That’s what she really wanted, but she knew it was the wrong time with everything in such an uproar. “I think I’ll nap for a little while. You have horses to train.”
He grimaced. “I do.” He rose. “Do you need anything else, Dair, before I head to the barn?”
Giving him a kind look, she shook her head. “I think I just need to be quiet for a while and rest.”
“You know where I am. You can call me on the cell phone.”
She felt his concern for her. “I’ll probably go to sleep, but yes, if I need something, I’ll get ahold of you.” Noah hesitated, as if not convinced, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’ll come in between training sessions, and just check on you. I’ll be quiet about it.”
Dair nodded and wheeled out of the kitchen. Exhaustion was creeping up on her and she could feel it. In some ways, she felt like a punching bag, getting hit with a one-two strike. First, her left knee was torn up. Then, Crawford attacked her out of the blue.
Going to her room, she left the door ajar, situated herself on top of the unmade bed, and promptly closed her eyes. Her mind was active and refused to shut off. Lying on her back, hands clasped across her stomach, she was torn between filing assault charges against Crawford or not. Noah had the balls to do it. Why was she hesitating? Dair knew it wasn’t like her. She’d always had the confidence to make split-second decisions, especially as a WMD dog handler in a dangerous situation.
How much she’d changed! As she lay there, she thought about those changes and what had brought them about. She thought she knew herself pretty well, but life was brutal sometimes. Losing a leg had crippled her confidence in herself, she realized. It wasn’t the first time she’d met this feeling of low self-esteem. She didn’t like to admit it, but with Crawford trying to strike her with his fist, it made her aware as never before that she was no longer capable of fully defending herself as she used to be when she was in the military. The loss of her lower leg had thrown her into a completely new world, and she still felt vulnerable in it.
Dair gave herself credit. When Harper was knocked off his feet and Crawford came at her, she did defend herself the best way she knew how. And if Noah hadn’t come in, along with Harper scrambling back to his feet, Dair knew she would have been wide-open to a second attack by the drunken abuser. Both men had come to her aid in different ways. Her mouth twitched. She hated feeling helpless like this. It bothered the hell out of her. Running over other possible scenarios of how to defend herself, Dair came to the glum conclusion that without wearing a weapon on her person, she would have been victim to Crawford’s next attack. That hurt. A lot.
Hot tears formed behind her closed lids. She hated feeling stripped of her own power to protect herself. Dair remembered how defenseless she’d felt when her father would skulk around the house, like an IED ready to explode momentarily. It never ended in the ten years he lived there. He was always like that. A threat. And more than once, he’d struck her and he’d hit her mother.
Sometime after that, Dair’s last thought was that their meeting at Shay and Reese’s home tonight was going to be filled with tension. She sank into a dreamless, healing sleep, with no sure answers to anything in her life. Being an amputee brought a sense of being open to attack. She wasn’t whole. Not any longer.
* * *
Libby Hilbert sat in an upholstered, flowery-fabric chair in the expansive living room of the Lockharts’ home. Dair sat opposite her in the makeshift circle where all the wranglers sat in wooden chairs brought from the kitchen table.
The forty-year-old widow had her long red hair pulled back from her oval face with purple barrettes that complemented the silk blouse of emerald green that she wore beneath her black wool pantsuit. Dair had enjoyed seeing Libby once a week, because the psychologist wasn’t like most therapists she’d met at Bethesda. There was no arrogance. Instead, she was maternal, gentle, and had a soft voice. Her green eyes were large and it was easy to read how she felt.
It was seven p.m., and Garret had faithfully made hot cinnamon rolls, much to everyone’s delight. Her stomach was tight with fear. Dair felt as if she were back in her home as a child, waiting for her father to explode and then come after either her or her mother.
Noah sat on her left, next to her wheelchair. On her right was Shay, and next to her, Reese. Harper sat to the left of Libby while Garret and Kira were to Libby’s right. They all looked somber. She noticed that hardly anyone had eaten much of the delicious, warm cinnamon rolls. There was an edgy, unsettled energy swirling among all of them, and Dair knew it was because of this morning’s melee with Crawford.
“Tonight,” Libby began, “we need to talk about what happened this morning out in the barn.” She gave Dair a sympathetic look. Shifting her gaze, she glanced over at Shay and Reese. “Perhaps we should have an update on your father, Shay?”
Shay grimaced and clenched her hands in the lap of her dark brown corduroy slacks. “He’s in the Lincoln County jail on charges of assault. He’s going before a judge tomorrow morning.”
“And how are you feeling about this?” Libby asked.
“Horrible,” Shay admitted, giving all of them a look of apology. “I-I never expected something like this would happen.”
“But Ray abused you and your mother, right?”
“Yes . . . yes, he did.”
Libby gave all of them a moment to allow the information to sink in. “What we really have is an abuser loose among all of you,” she said, her gaze meeting each person in the living room. “Is there anyone else here who has come out of an abusive childhood?”
Dair’s stomach clenched. There was so much her wrangler friends didn’t know about her yet. “Me,” she whispered. “My father beat up me and my mother.” She felt shame in admitting it, but at the same time, it felt freeing to release that dark, deep secret she hid from everyone. Noah’s hand moved to her hands in her lap, squeezing them, comforting her. Giving him a quick glance, she saw turmoil in his eyes, but felt his protectiveness, too. And it felt good. That gave Dair the courage to add, “My father was not an alcoholic. He was bipolar. And he took recreational drugs. My mother pleaded with him to get help, but he said he was fine.”
“Do you want to share what happened to you at ten, Dair?”
Knowing that Libby was going to bring this up, because Dair had discussed it with her the second week she’d arrived at the Bar C, she gulped and gave a jerky nod. In as few words as possible, she shared it with the group. Dair could see the horror in Harper’s widening eyes. As a medic, he understood a bone being broken in a child’s lower arm, the force that it took. Garret’s face grew dark and stormy. Kira already knew, and so did Shay and Reese.
Libby allowed it all to sink in.
Garret spoke up. “My old man’s the same way. A mean, abusive bastard.”
Dair held his gaze. Some of the tension in her dissolved.
“I was lucky,” Harper said. “I’ve got a great set of parents.”
“So do I,” Reese admitted.
“Mine are decent, too,” Noah added.
“Dair? You’re the one who took the brunt of Ray’s attack. How are you feeling right now?” Libby asked.
Noah’s hand tightened for a moment over hers. Giving him a look of gratitude, Dair felt her mouth going dry. “I guess I realized that I can’t protect and defend myself like I could when I had two good legs under me.”
“Feeling vulnerable?”
“Horribly,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was in the military, I worked in black ops. I felt totally confident in Zeus, my WMD dog, myself, and the men I was with.” She rolled her shoulders, looking at each person in the room. “Now? I feel like half a person. I wouldn’t have come out of that scrape this morning if Harper and Noah hadn’t been around to help me. I had no way to protect myself, and it’s a horrible feeling to admit that.”
Silence fell over the group.
“Are you angry with Ray?” Libby asked.
“Yes,” Dair admitted.
“When your father would abuse you, did you feel anger then?”
“Of course.”
“What did you do with it?”
Dair snorted. “I was a kid, Libby. What could I do? I’d run and hide. Sometimes in the closet, sometimes under my bed. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to become invisible.”
“Understandable,” she said, giving Dair a gentle look. “When your father hit you, what did you do?”
“Tried to get away.”
“Didn’t you want to hit him back?”
“Sure,” she said, “but I was afraid if I hit him back, he’d kill me, or worse, go after my mother.”
“How does this morning’s assault upon you bring back similar feelings from your childhood?”
Dair felt devastated by that question and rubbed her brow. Roughly, she said, “I wanted to hit Ray hard, with my fist. But I couldn’t because I was lying on my side in a face-plant in the middle of that aisle, and the wheelchair pinned me so I couldn’t move.”
“But this time,” Libby pointed out, “you did fight back. You kicked out at Ray and it knocked him off his feet.”
“There wasn’t much choice, looking back on it, Libby. I was scared.” And then she gave Noah a glance before continuing. “When Ray came at me, for a split second I saw my father’s face overlaid on his. It shocked me. And that’s when I got really scared.”
Giving a thoughtful nod, Libby said, “That’s not unusual. I’m sure you have lots of stored feelings and hurt from your father abusing you.”
“Probably,” Dair admitted bitterly.
“When you were a child, if you could have called someone for help, who would it have been?”
“The police.”
“Did your mother call them?”
“No, never. She was afraid he’d kill her. I was afraid he’d kill both of us if we tried to get help.”
“Is that why you haven’t pressed charges against Ray Crawford?”
It felt as if she’d been hit in the solar plexus, and Dair closed her eyes for a moment, trying to contain all her emotions. Noah’s hand on hers steadied her. She opened her eyes, staring across the room at Libby, whose expression was nothing but compassionate. Her voice hoarse, Dair said, “To tell you the truth? I wanted to press charges. Sarah asked me after the interview what I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure. I was waffling.” Cutting an apologetic look at Shay, she said to her, “I didn’t want to cause you any more pain than you were already in. I was afraid if I pressed charges that Ray, once he got out of jail, would be ten times more angry and do everything in his power to take the Bar C away from you.”
Shay nodded, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Was your decision based upon your past, Dair?”
Sighing raggedly, Dair held Libby’s thoughtful expression. “When you put it that way? Yeah, it probably was. I was afraid Ray would come back here when he got out and shoot all of us.”
“Often,” Libby said quietly to the group, “when we’ve been abused and powerless to stop it, we behave just as Dair did. She was young, and couldn’t run from it. The one parent was incapable of protecting Dair, her child. And so, when a similar threat comes along, no matter our age, we tend to react the same way, even though the events are different, we’re older and we’re more mature.”
Dair stared at her, compressing her lips. “I think Ray is fully capable of coming back here once he gets out of jail and killing all of us if he could.”
“Because that’s what your father told you, right? He’d come after you and kill you and your mom?”
Anger surged in Dair, and she realized it had no place in this session. Libby was helping her to see a pattern in her life. She got that. She’d had way too much therapy at Bethesda in group sessions with other vet amputees, not to realize what she was doing. The anger dissipated. Giving Libby a sour smile, Dair said, “I see it now. Thanks.” She saw Libby’s green eyes glisten, but there was no triumph in her expression, just sadness for her.
“I knee-jerked,” she told Shay. “I was afraid if I pressed assault charges against your father, it would cause you and Reese even more trouble after he got out.”
“Oh, Dair,” Shay said, getting up. She went over to her, sliding her arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly. “It’s all right. My father hurt you. He deserves whatever he gets,” she mumbled tearfully against her neck and shoulder. Releasing her, Shay crouched down, gripping Dair’s hands. Tears were running freely down her face. “You have every right to press charges. We are no longer victims. Part of ending that mindset is to realize that we have choices now, Dair. You don’t have to run to a closet or slide under your bed anymore. My father deserves to be charged.”
Reese came over, his hand on Shay’s small shoulder as he looked down at Dair. “We’ll deal with Crawford after he gets out. I feel he’ll take a legal route to try and get the ranch back. I don’t think he’s that stupid as to come onto Bar C property with a weapon. Besides, as a felon, if he’s convicted, he won’t be allowed to carry a firearm ever again. And you can bet that when they call us to tell us he’s being released, we will be alert. Neither Shay nor I want you to worry about possibilities like that, Dair. You do what is right for you. Okay?”
“Yes,” Shay whispered, her voice trembling, holding Dair’s gaze, “you do what is right for you. My father hurt you. You’re not a victim anymore. You don’t have to be.” She squeezed Dair’s hands and rose, sliding her arm around her husband’s waist.
Her gut was tight and aching. So many old feelings from the past, ugly, frightening ones, moved through Dair. She sat there hearing everyone agree with Reese and Shay. Noah moved his hand gently across her tense shoulders, trying to give her some solace. As Reese took Shay back to her chair, Dair lifted her chin, staring at Libby.
“Okay, I’m going to press charges.”
* * *
“What a night,” Dair muttered as she stood carefully on her one foot, holding on to Noah’s upper arms as she balanced herself. The session had lasted until ten p.m., and a lot of dirty laundry got aired collectively by the group.
“It was a good night,” Noah said, cupping her elbows. “You were very brave.” He stared into her darkened eyes. “That couldn’t have been easy to talk about in front of everyone.”
There were only six inches between them, and Dair relaxed, allowing her weight to shift to her one leg. “You helped me, you know?”
“How?”
“It was as if you knew when I needed your touch,” she whispered. As exhausted as she was emotionally, her heart opened to Noah. He looked tired and stressed, too. Everyone was. Lifting her hand, she caressed his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath her fingertips. “You were there for me, Noah. I’m not used to that, but it was so good, so steadying to me when I felt like emotionally I was flying apart inside.”
He smiled down into her eyes. “I wanted to be there for you, Dair. You haven’t been protected very much in your life, and I want to be the man who is there for you—if you want me.” He took her hand, opened it, placed a soft kiss in the center of her palm, and then released it.
Her palm tingled. As tired as she was, she needed Noah. “You’re like a shadow warrior,” she accused, smiling a little. “Never seen, but always there, just around the corner when I need you.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly doing my job this morning,” he protested.
“You have the ears of a wolf, I swear.”
“It was an intuitive feeling, Dair.” He slid his fingers through her loose black hair, watching the bluish highlights dance through the strands. “You are beautiful, courageous, and I’ve been waiting since this morning to hold you . . .”
“Hold me, then,” she whispered, sliding her arms across his shoulders. Never had Dair wanted anything more as Noah gave her a burning look, stepping forward, always sensitive to the fact that she was carefully balanced on one foot. She relished his arms sliding around her hips, caressing her lower back and gently asking her to lean against him. He would hold her safe. It was in his eyes, the yearning, the need for her in them, that allowed her to trust him. She uttered his name, surrendering over to him, feeling how strong Noah was, his muscles hard, hers softer and rounded against him. She nestled her face against his neck, relaxing, feeling his hand move slowly up and down the center of her back, comforting her. It wasn’t sexual. It was human tenderness of the best kind, and Dair absorbed it, starved for just this kind of care right now.
“You smell so good,” he muttered, his face pressed against her head, her hair tickling him here and there.
“I can’t smell that good,” she managed wryly. “I need a shower.” She sighed. Sliding her fingers along his nape, the corded column of his neck, his short hair silky between her fingertips, Dair pressed her left cheek against him, her lips caressing his throat. She felt Noah tense and then relax. There was no way for her not to feel the thickness of his erection growing rapidly beneath his jeans, pressing into her belly, awakening her, warming her until a new ache formed and wanted to be tended to. His fingers moved across her shoulders, massaging them lightly, and she groaned with appreciation.
“Feel good?” he rasped, kissing her hair.
“Does it ever . . . I didn’t realize how tense I’d become.”
“Hey,” he said, mirth in his voice, “that was one helluva therapy session for all of us tonight. But it was the roughest on you, Dair.”
Nodding, eyes closed, she absorbed his caresses, that simmering fire glowing hotly in her lower body, needing him in every possible way. “I’ll survive,” she said. “Don’t stop doing what you’re doing, Noah,” she urged, sliding her fingers downward, feeling his muscles react as her fingertips skimmed his back. Never had anything felt so right to Dair as this. Each time he caressed her spine, tiny tingles widened in the wake of his fingers.
“I wish . . .”
“What?” he rasped, moving her hair to one side, kissing the nape of her slender neck.
“I wish I had two legs.”
“To do what with?” he teased, feeling her beginning to melt against him as he kissed and then licked that erotic area of her neck.
“To move closer to you,” she said, her voice turning amused. “To push my hips against yours. It’s a little tough to do it on one leg.”
He laughed quietly with her. Noah eased her away from him just enough to hold her drowsy, lustrous gaze. “Tell me what you want, Dair. If I can, I’ll give it to you.” He threaded his fingers through her cloud of hair, watching how it affected her.
Gazing into his stormy gray eyes, she whispered, “Will you hold me tonight? I want to be with you, Noah. I don’t know where this is going, but I’m willing to follow my heart, my need for you, what you give me . . . what I want to give to you . . .” She saw his expression flare with surprise and then turn turbulent with so many emotions. “Talk to me? Tell me what you’re thinking? What you’re feeling?”
He searched her eyes, his hands stilling over her hips, holding her gently against him. “If what you want is to be held, I’ll do that for you, Dair. You’re exhausted. You need rest. You’re still in shock over what happened this morning.” He leaned over, brushing her lips. “I’ll just hold you. If you want anything more, you have to tell me and how much further you want to go. Okay?”
Relief flooded through her, tears burning in her eyes as she drowned in his warm gaze. “Yes . . . that’s what I need right now, Noah. I need to be held.”
“Then,” he rasped, “you’ve got it.”
Dair didn’t have the courage to tell him how inept she felt, that she wasn’t whole. She’d not been touched by a man since she’d lost her leg. There was such hesitation and fear within her. Fear of rejection. Fear she was disgustingly ugly. But Noah had already seen her leg without the sock on it. She’d looked for revulsion in his expression and there was nothing except sympathy. He didn’t avoid looking at her residual limb. He wasn’t fazed by it in the least, and that surprised her. It had given her the courage to ask him to sleep with her tonight. To hold her. She slid her hand across his shoulder, caressing the fabric near his collarbone. “Th-thank you. I feel pretty shaky inside and outside of myself right now.”
He nodded. “Dair, you got assaulted this morning. Anyone would be shaken. Do you need some help in the bathroom? Getting your shower?”
“No . . . I’ll manage, thanks. But if you could bring me my nightgown, that would be good.”
“Sure,” he murmured. “Ready to sit in the chair again?”
“Yes,” she said, and for the first time allowed him to help her, instead of insisting she do everything herself. Noah was teaching her that it was all right not to be so independent all the time. He was so different from the relationships she’d had before, and it made her feel even more unsure of herself with him. He was so new to the world of men she’d known. Never had a man ever said he’d just hold her in bed, without sex. Not that she’d ever asked a man to hold her. How many men would do what Noah was offering to do for her? Probably none, her mushy brain reminded her as Noah pushed her to the bathroom and opened the door for her.
As good as his word, he brought in her nightgown, her brush and comb.
“Your bed or mine?” he asked as he paused at the open door.
“Yours,” she said. “It’s king-sized and has plenty of room.” Because she was worried about her left knee and her limb. Maybe Noah would be sickened by that limb possibly touching him? She didn’t know, and was too exhausted to think anymore about it. A larger bed would give him room to avoid her limb if he was repelled by it. Everything was so tentative within her. Giving him a searching glance, she asked, “Are you sure you want to do this, Noah?”
If she had any doubts, they melted beneath the tender look he gave her.
“I’m positive. I’ll hold you as close or as far away as you want, Dair. You just need to speak up and let me know. Okay?”
It was such a huge leap forward in their growing relationship. The assurance in his expression told her he was being honest. The care in his deep voice flowed over her, removing some of the anxiety she was feeling so sharply within her. “Okay . . . good . . .”
“Once you get cleaned up and out of here, I’ll help you get situated on my bed. It’s taller than yours and you might need some help getting up on it.”
Dair hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “Oh . . . yes, you’re right. Okay . . .”
He smiled a little. “Get your shower.” He quietly closed the door, leaving her feeling alone, and yet like a needy beggar who wanted him more than anything else in her life right now.