“Maybe I’ll call him. I dunno.” He rubbed his hand over his face.
“Sorry,” she said. “You’ve only just arrived—you must be exhausted from your trip. I shouldn’t have pressed you about anything. I only meant to say welcome home and leave the pie.”
But as he dropped his hand from his face, she saw him staring beyond her. Far beyond her, as if he were seeing another place and another time. She froze, wondering if she had triggered a problem for him somehow. Maybe her being here was enough. She waited, not sure if he’d want her to just leave, not sure he’d even hear her if she bade him farewell.
God, she wished she knew what to do.
Then she learned something very important—Nell knew what to do. She rose onto her haunches, put her forepaws on the arm of his chair and stretched her head up until she could lick his cheek. Over and over again.
At first Zane didn’t react. Not even a twitching muscle. His gaze remained black, almost empty. Nell continued to lick his cheek with occasional pauses to nudge him gently.
It seemed to go on forever, although it could only have been a minute or two. Then Nell barked and Zane blinked, his eyes focusing once again. He reached out to wrap his arm around the dog, giving her a squeeze before letting her go. At once she dropped to a sitting position beside him, but she never took her attention from him.
Ashley added it all up and realized that the least of Nell’s service was performing physical tasks for Zane. She was an emotional lifeline, drawing him back when he neared the precipice. Providing comfort more than physical care.
God, it was terrible to think of what had brought Zane to this point. Even her worst imaginings probably failed completely.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice sounding rusty.
“No need,” she answered promptly. And really, she didn’t think he needed to apologize for being haunted by the demons of war. Almost nobody could escape that unscathed. At least she assumed that had been what just happened. She hoped she hadn’t triggered it.
Deciding he must be uncomfortable now, considering what she had witnessed, and considering he’d already expressed his desire to be left alone, she again gathered herself to rise, opening her mouth to say good-night.
He forestalled her. “Sorry you had to see that. Did it last long?”
She settled back into the chair. “A minute or two. Don’t apologize. I just hope I didn’t cause it.”
“There isn’t always a cause. It just happens. It happens less when I’m away from known triggers, but it still happens. And I guess you’ve figured out that Nell does more for me than open doors and grab my socks.”
“She seems wonderful,” Ashley answered sincerely.
“She is. She responds immediately when I start to...slip, and she helps call me back quickly. Before Nell I could fall into flashbacks that lasted hours. Once it was even days.” He grimaced. “My neighbors didn’t much appreciate that last one.”
She hesitated then asked because she wanted to know. “The flashbacks...they don’t help you at all?”
“No.”
Well, that was pretty grim. Dissociative episodes with no purpose except to make him miserable. A mind so overwhelmed that it kept trying to absorb what had happened and was totally unable to do so. Reliving horror.
“Thank God for Nell,” she said finally. It seemed like such a weak response to what he had revealed.
He patted his lap, and she watched with amazement and amusement as Nell jumped up and did her best to curl up on him. The dog licked his chin, and for the first time she saw Zane laugh. Such a nice laugh. The dog apparently liked it, too, wagging her tail rapidly.
“She barely fits,” Ashley remarked.
“She has to work at it,” he agreed. His hands ran down Nell’s furry back. “She’s a lifesaver.”
Somehow she didn’t believe he was exaggerating.
“Anyway, I was lucky. Some of my friends got together and gave her to me. I guess the little boy in your class could use the same kind of luck. So this Cadell guy is also trying to provide service dogs?”
“He’s trying. He mainly trains police dogs, search-and-rescue dogs, but he’s aware of the need. He consults with people who can help him figure out how to do it. Your advice might be very helpful.”
He nodded. “Thing is, I don’t know how she was trained. When I got Nell, she was on top of it all. I guess I could email one of my friends to see if they know who the trainer was. The trainer would be more helpful than I could ever be.”
It was probably true, but Ashley suspected this was another way of keeping his isolation intact. Who was she to question his methods of dealing with his problems?
“Thanks,” she said. “Mikey could sure use something to brighten his days. He hasn’t been paralyzed long, only the last year, and he still has trouble dealing with it. The idea that kids can just bounce right back from anything... Well, it’s not always true.”
“How was he hurt?”
“Thrown from a horse. His mom told me his back was broken in several places and he became quadriplegic. They’re grateful he’s still alive, but I’m not sure Mikey always is.”
“Why should he be?” Zane asked roughly. “God spare me the Pollyannas. Pardon me, but it doesn’t always help to hear how lucky you are.”
Ashley drew a breath. She wasn’t shocked—she knew he was right, but few people said such things so baldly.
“Count your blessings,” he said. “Sure. That works. On a good day. On a bad day you just wish you’d never survived.”
The stark truth rendered her speechless. Every single word that sprang to mind in answer struck her as a useless aphorism. This man was dealing with very real and very ugly memories and impulses. No words could offer any kind of succor.
“Now you know,” he said. “That’s why I don’t want to fill my life with people. I’ve rattled you badly several times since you walked through my door. Who the hell needs to be around that?”
“I’m fine,” she protested. Then, seeking safer ground immediately because she wanted to change the direction of his thinking as quickly as possible, “Don’t you need some modifications in this kitchen?”
Startled, his head jerked back a bit. Nell jumped down from his lap and took up her watchful position. “My kitchen?” he repeated.
“Well, what else can I talk about?”
He frowned faintly. “The weather?”
“Cold and getting colder. I love autumn. What about the kitchen?”
To her amazement, a slow smile made it halfway across his face. “The kitchen has to wait. Expensive, and there’s no point in doing it unless I decide to stay here.”
“Ah.”
