One Day in Apple Grove (18 page)

Cait nodded. “She got teary at first and then agreed that it was a great way to raise money for our neighbors who are going through tough times without making them feel beholden to anyone for helping.”

“It’s a great idea. Those too old coots always did have the town’s best interests at heart.”

“I would have thought they’d be one of the ones who could use the money, but they never see it that way,” she said.

“They’re from a generation that is used to going without if need be. Tough times either make a man,” he told her, “or break him.”

“Mmm…” she said, inhaling a deep breath. “Smells great out here.”

When she stared at him, he knew what she expected and drew in a breath. “I smell rain.”

She laughed. “That’s not what I meant, but OK, we’ll go with that for now.”

He chuckled and realized it was going to be all right. As long as he had Cait in his life, he could tackle anything. Awed by the epiphany, he tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “The ground smells good out here, but not quite the same as when it’s just been plowed.”

Watching the bats swooping down over the field, she finally pushed back and said, “I’m hungry.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and tugged on her hand. “I’ve got some burgers that are begging to be grilled.”

“Do you have any potato salad?”

“Are you going to find somewhere else to eat if I don’t?”

“No.” After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you have any potatoes?”

He paused to think about it. “I might.”

“OK,” she said, “if we nuke them, they’re almost as good as a baked potato…as long as you have plenty of butter and sour cream.”

“Then you’re in luck,” he said as his Jeep came into sight. “I have all of the above.”

“I might let you talk me into bed after you feed me.”

He opened the door for her and leaned in to kiss her. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

When they pulled into his driveway, he fought to keep from wondering what Jamie was doing right then. It was hard; he’d gotten used to having the little guy there to greet him when he got home from a long day of treating patients.

“He was a good companion.”

Cait tucked her arm in his and led him around to the back door. “The best. He’ll be all right, Jack.”

Opening the back door, he sighed. “I know, but I’m gonna miss him like crazy.”

“Me too. When Meg moved out, I had to keep busy not to think about how much I missed her.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Close enough,” Cait said. “She used to live with us and then she didn’t.”

He had to give her that much. “But still—”

Cait remained firm. “Do you need me to make the hamburger patties while you light the grill?”

“Nope already done. You can nuke the potatoes, though.”

The simple routine helped take his mind off missing Jamie. It would take time to get used to a new normal. He’d never forget what it was like to have that little ball of black fuzz in his life.

Cait kept up her end of the bargain by helping him make dinner and then insisting they eat on the deck. “Cold beer and burgers on a warm spring night,” she said after they’d finished. “It doesn’t get any better than this.”

Jack was already on his feet. “You sure about that?”

She giggled when he scooped her out of her chair and carried her into the house. “I can walk.”

“Me too,” he said, kissing a path along the curve of her jaw, his senses assaulted by the subtle combination of fruit and flowers. “You taste like springtime.”

“New face wash.”

“Do you taste like that everywhere?” he asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

“I wouldn’t want to spoil all of your fun,” she said as he placed her in the middle of his bed.

“You look right here.” He didn’t want to say too much, but he wanted her there, needed her there. “Caitlin I—”

He forgot what he was going to say when she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. He did the same and then reached for her jeans. She beat him to it and stood on his bed—thank goodness he had high ceilings or else she’d have bumped her head.

They were both breathless when she shimmied out of her jeans. “God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, reaching for her.

She shook her head. “Your turn.”

But he didn’t want to wait that long to touch her. He wanted her naked in his bed. “Let’s try something different.” Her eyes widened as he eased her down onto her back and then proceeded to nip the lace panties at her hip and tug on them until she lifted up, so he could pull them off of her.

Licking and nibbling a path from her toes to her thighs, he nudged her legs apart and settled himself between them. Sliding his arms beneath her, he eased her legs onto his shoulders. “I’m going to take my time tonight,” he warned her. “I’m not stopping until I’ve tasted every inch of you.”

Her eyes blazed a brilliant green as desire grabbed her by the throat. “Then it’ll be my turn.”

“Babe, once I’ve had my fill of you, you won’t even remember your own name.”

“Big talk,” she said as his lips, teeth, and tongue tormented her, brushing close to the very heart of her, until she begged him to take what he so desperately wanted.

Wild
honey.

His tongue dipped inside her again and he knew he’d never tasted anything that good. One taste would never satisfy the hunger building inside of him. She moaned and writhed as he took what he craved, tasted what he hungered for.

His jeans cut into his erection, but he ignored it, needing her to come first.

Her orgasm ripped through her, the aftershocks lifting her up off of the bed before she lay limp and quivering. Easing back, he slipped off the bed and stripped out of his jeans. Her eyes fluttered open as he covered himself from tip to base, and she turned slumberous as he climbed on to the bed.

He slid his body up and over hers, delighting in each and every shiver. “You’re so responsive,” he rasped, kissing his way to her breasts. Licking first one and then the other. When she wrapped her legs around him, he pulled her left breast into his mouth and slid home.

Suckling and sliding in and out, he was soon lost in the primal need to find completion. The need to mate with this woman threatened to take control, but he grappled with need and won, grazing his teeth over her nipple before letting go and lavishing the same attention on her other breast. He wanted her to come twice more before giving in to the overwhelming need to drive into her until he was blind to everything but the taste, scent, and feel of her.

When she cried out his name and went limp in his arms, he dug deep and found the strength to bring it home. Whispering words of love to the woman who held his heart, he urged her to come with him with each thrust, until she lifted up to meet him again and again.

With one final surge, he lifted her up and let go of his tight control. He emptied himself, wishing he could feel her velvet-soft walls pulsing around him, instead of the latex barrier that protected her.

Not
yet,
he thought,
but
soon.

Their heartbeats slowed as he rolled so she was on top, and he was still inside of her. Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him.

***

The rumble of thunder sounded in the distance; snuggling closer to Jack, she ignored the coming storm and drifted back to sleep.

The crack of thunder directly overhead shook her from sleep. But it was the heavy weight pressing down on her that had her gasping for breath.

“Incoming,” Jack’s voice shouted as he pressed his body over hers, covering her, protecting her.

“Can’t breathe,” she protested, punching him in the shoulder to get him to ease up. Lightning flashed and another crack struck right outside the window. Jack’s weight was making her light-headed. She needed air.

Shifting, she kneed him hard. The weight lifted and she drew in a breath.

“What the hell?” he gasped, cupping himself.

“You were having a nightmare.”

The way he fell quiet, she knew he understood what had happened. “I’m sorry.”

“You need to talk to me about it.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t.” He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans.

“But—”

She may as well have been talking to the wind because Jack never stopped; he kept right on walking.

“Damn you!” she ground out. “You’re going to tell me,” she vowed. “Even if you hate me for it,” she whispered. “I’m going to help you face whatever demons you have locked inside of you.”

Even though she waited for him, Jack never came back to bed. At four o’clock, she dragged herself to the bathroom, took a shower, and got dressed.

He was sitting on the deck, wrapped in a blanket, fast asleep when she walked outside. “Do you think staying away from me will protect me?” But he didn’t rouse from sleep to answer her question.

Since he didn’t feel he had to tell her what he was doing or where he was going, she didn’t either. Keys in hand, she walked to her truck, got in, and drove home. No one was up yet when she let herself into the house, so she made coffee and sat down with her dad’s laptop.

Getting on to the Internet, she started to search out different types of trauma until she found what she was looking for—PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder. Reading the symptoms again, she bookmarked the page. Now that she had a better understanding of what was happening to Jack, she needed to find a way to help him.

She was on her second cup of coffee when her father walked in. He took one look at her and summed up the situation. “You have about five minutes and then you are going to start talking,” he told her. “I’ll have downed my first cup of caffeine and will be able to help you get to the heart of whatever is bothering you.”

She didn’t bother to argue. She needed help and could trust her father not to talk about Jack’s problem until Jack was ready to. With a nod, she walked over to the fridge, pulled out the makings for breakfast, and set aside her worries while she fried up sausage patties and eggs—scrambled, just the way her dad liked them.

“Smells good,” he said, putting the toast down a second time. When it popped up, he slathered both pieces with butter and carried them over to the table. “Is this about Jack losing Jamie or just Jack?”

“A little of both, I think,” she said.

“He really took to that little guy, but it’s understandable. Jamie’s quite a dog.”

She let the tears she’d held back fall freely. Her dad gave her time to cry it out and then handed her a wad of paper towels to blow her nose with.

When she did, he asked, “So, now what else is going on?”

“I think Jack’s suffering from PTSD.”

Her father sat back and crossed his arms in what Cait recognized as his thinking pose. “You sure?”

“I double-checked the symptoms online.”

“The Internet isn’t infallible.”

“I know, Pop,” she said, “but it’s only happened during a thunderstorm. I read where it could sound like an explosion and trigger a reaction.”

He nodded. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“I’ve tried, but he just shuts me out. I need to help him face whatever he has locked inside him.”

“Maybe he already has,” her father told her.

“But then why is he acting like this?”

“Like what?”

She wouldn’t let her embarrassment of confirming what her dad probably guessed—that she and Jack had been sleeping together—get in the way of the telling. “The first time it happened, the thunder woke me up, and I saw him hunched over on the floor like he was trying to shield something—or someone—with his body and he kept yelling ‘IED.’”

He father waited for her to continue.

“Last night, a huge crack of thunder woke me, but I couldn’t breathe. He was lying on top of me, trying to shield me, but I couldn’t get him to listen—he was trapped in whatever nightmare he goes into.”

“How did you get him to wake up?”

“I had to knee him.”

“I see. And when he finally woke up, what happened?”

“I tried to get him to talk to me, but he wouldn’t. He just walked away.”

“So you just left him?”

“I kept waiting for him to come back upstairs, but after a while, I knew he wasn’t going to. He was asleep on the deck, wrapped in a blanket. I didn’t want to wake him…so I left.”

“You think he did that so he wouldn’t take the chance of hurting you?”

“Yeah,” she rasped. “Pop, I love him…what am I going to do?”

“Let me think on it.”

She blew her nose again and cleared the table. “What if we can’t help him?”

“Jack’s a smart man, Cait,” he said. “He may already be in treatment. Did you think of that?”

“No.” She hadn’t. “Then why—”

“I had a buddy who suffered from PTSD,” he told her. “He could go for months at a time without suffering and then something would set him off and he would have an episode.”

“What did he do?”

“He kept seeing his doctor and tried to analyze the warning signs to keep on top of things and prevent a full-blown episode.”

“And it worked?”

“Most of the time,” he said. “It may take years, and it might never fully go away, but my friend learned to live with it and control it. I might have a way to help Jack come to terms with the fact that his condition is controllable to a point. Why don’t you let me tell Gracie to reschedule your day?”

“I’m fine, Pop. I’ll be better if I’m busy.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, pulling her in for a bear hug.

When she’d gone for the day, Joe got on the phone. “Jerry, it’s me, Joe—I need your help.”

***

Jack woke cold and alone. Stiff from falling asleep in a chair on the deck, he stretched to loosen the knots in his spine and bad leg. “Brilliant, Gannon,” he grumbled, limping inside. Wondering if Cait was still sleeping, he walked inside and listened.

“Too quiet.” He missed the scrambling of puppy feet as Jamie ran into the kitchen or bounded up the stairs. He’d get used to it, but it might take some time.

“Cait?”

When she didn’t answer, he called again. Unease slithered through his gut, as he took the stairs two at a time only to find his bed empty and Caitlin long gone.

He stared at the rumpled bed and a flash of the woman he’d turned inside out and backward with their lovemaking filled his heart and his head. “You’re too stupid to deserve a woman like her.”

A glance at the clock told him it was time to get cleaned up for work. The hot water eased the tension from his back, but not his leg. It was going to be a long day. He couldn’t decide if he should go to the office early or track Cait down at her house.

He sent her a text, but she didn’t answer it. “Big surprise.” He’d had his chance and he flubbed it, but he wasn’t going to give up on her. She promised she’d stick. He was going to hold her to that promise.

He might have to learn to live without his best furry friend, but he’d be damned if he’d live without Caitlin. Taking a chance, he called the Mulcahys’ house.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Joe. It’s Jack, can I talk to Cait?”

“She’s at the shop. Did you call her cell?”

“I texted her, but she didn’t answer me.”

“What time’s your first appointment?” Joe asked.

“In about an hour. Why?”

“Stop by the house,” Joe told him. “I’d like to talk to you.”

How could Jack say no? “Be there in a few.”

Pulling up into the driveway of the Mulcahys’ house felt weird, knowing that Cait wasn’t there and that he was about to have a face-to-face conversation with her father—had she talked to her dad about last night?

Shit.
How did you have a conversation with the father of the woman you’ve been sleeping with? Cut to the chase and admit it—making love to, because what he had with Cait was way more than just physical. He wanted a lifetime with her.

Joe came out of the house as he parked his Jeep and got out.

“Glad you could stop by.” Joe looked him up and down. “You look like hell.”

Jack nodded. “Rough night.”

“Heard about part of it.”

When he didn’t say anymore, Jack waited, knowing it was bound to come out.

“Scared my little girl.”

“Joe…Mr. Mulcahy—”

“Joe’s fine,” he told Jack. “I just have one question.”

Whew
, Jack thought, and waited.

“Are you finished with her?”

Jack waited a heartbeat and then asked, “Excuse me?”

“Something wrong with your hearing, Gannon?”

“No.”

“Then answer the question.”

“No, sir.”

“Is that your answer or your stance?”

Jack had to chuckle at that. “My answer, Joe. I love Caitlin.”

“Hmmpfh. You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“She’s the one who walked out on me.”

“As I hear tell it, she waited for you to come back after you scared the shit out of her by using your body to protect her from an IED.”

All of the blood rushed to Jack’s feet. She’d figured out what he’d been trying so hard to control.
How
did
it
happen?

Was
it
the
storm?

Was
it
the
stress
of
having
to
give
Jamie
back?

Joe tugged on Jack’s arm to get him to walk with him. Instead of the barn, where he knew Joe spent a lot of his time, he walked toward the field out back. “I have a buddy who suffers from PTSD. He’s going for help and manages to keep it under control.”

Jack nodded. “I’m not due to see the doctor at the VA for another couple of months.”

Relief flooded Joe’s features. “I knew I was right.”

“About?”

“You being smart enough to seek help. You’re a doctor and know how important something like this is.”

“I do,” Jack agreed. “Everything was fine until that first storm.”

“By storm, do you mean my second born or the weather?”

Jack stopped walking and looked into Cait’s father’s eyes. “Both, maybe. It hasn’t happened in a while. I’ve been keeping on top of the weather to know when a storm is on the way, but Cait distracted me.”

“She has that talent,” Joe said.

“You could say that.”

“What are you going to do about it, Jack?” He turned around to walk back toward the driveway. “She deserves to know what’s going on so she can understand it. My girls are strong enough to handle anything.”

“She said she’d stick…but she left me,” Jack rasped.

“Did you give her a choice?”

Jack shrugged. “I guess not. But I thought she knew…after last night—”

“Would that be before or after the thunderstorm?”

Jack opened his mouth and then closed it tight. Joe could boil him in oil, but there were some things that should remain private…what happened between him and Cait the night before was precious and was theirs.

Joe acknowledged Jack’s silence and changed the subject. “Gracie has Cait’s schedule if you’re thinking about catching up with her partway through the day to apologize.”

“I—” Instead of words, Jack held out his hand to Joe. When the older man took it, Jack nodded. “Thanks.”

Joe nodded and said, “I’m always willing to give a man a second chance…but that’s all I’ll give him before I come after him for hurting one of my girls.”

Jack swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat. Cait and her dad were willing to give him another chance. He was smart; he was taking it and he wasn’t gonna mess it up.

“Yes, sir.” With a wave, he got into his Jeep, put it in reverse, and hightailed it into town; he had to stop at Mulcahys before his first appointment was due to arrive.

Grace was sitting in front of her computer terminal, same as always, when he pushed open the door. “Hi, Grace.”

She looked up at him and then back down at her keyboard. “What do you want?”

How had word spread that fast? “I was hoping you could tell me where Cait would be around noon.”

Without looking up, she asked, “Why?”

He held on to what was left of his pride. “I need to talk to her…I need to apologize.”

“Really?” The hopeful tone in her voice tipped him off that Cait’s sister might not know what happened; she just figured out from Cait’s mood that something did happen.

“Really. So how about it?”

With a few clicks, Grace was scanning the schedule. “She’ll be over at Miss Trudi’s this afternoon, installing a pump for her new koi pond.”

“Thanks, Grace.”

With a spring in his step, Jack walked back outside and drove back to his office. Three minutes later, his first appointment walked in. He was ready to face the day and was anticipating seeing Caitlin.

A few hours later, he was headed to Miss Trudi’s. He had to drive so he wouldn’t take the chance of being late for his afternoon appointments. Going slowly down Apple Grove Road, he pulled up behind the black F1 and parked.

“Anybody home?” he called out, walking through the maze of plants and planters that Miss Trudi Philo had displayed. He heard them before he saw them.

“Well, I’ll be,” he heard Miss Trudi exclaim. “It works.”

“Like a charm,” Cait answered. “Now all you need to do is flip this switch, but if I were you, I’d leave it on unless there’s an electrical short somewhere. The fish need that water aerated.”

“You’re a clever one, Miss Cait.”

“Thanks.”

“Hello, Caitlin,” he called out, catching her off guard. The longing on her face eased part of his worry.

“I’m busy, Jack.”

“Caitlin, that’s no way to speak to Doc Gannon.” Miss Trudi shook her head. “I’m sure she’s just tired. You can tell from the dark circles beneath her eyes.”

My
fault
, he thought. “Yes. I can. Maybe she needs one of my dad’s tonics.”

Miss Trudi’s eyes lit up and her face beamed. “I think she just might. I have some in the house. Be right back.”

“You just said that so she’d leave us alone.”

“And if I did?” he challenged.

She blew out a breath and threw her hands in the air. “Jack, I need to focus on the repair schedule for today.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged on it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you last night.”

She turned in his arms and stared up at him.

“You said you would stick,” he reminded her.

“I’m sorry, Jack. After you walked out, I didn’t know what to do.”

“You left me,” he whispered.

“I had to.” Tears filled her eyes. “I needed to do some research, and I needed to think.” She left him in order to help him, just as he’d left her alone in his bedroom to protect her. They both wanted the same thing; it was something in common…something to hold tight to.