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“I wish I could promise you that nothing will ever happen to me, but life doesn’t work that way. I can promise you I will never knowingly put myself in a dangerous situation.”
“There is no way I would ever ask you to stop doing the things you love to do. Never.”
He smiled and my stomach fluttered. I wanted him to take me back home this instant and make love to me.
“I know you wouldn’t, and I love you even more because you said that. My life is different now. I have different priorities. Making you my wife someday, having kids, designing and building your dream home. Those are the things I want in my life. Okay, and maybe talking you into exploring one wild cave before you’re too pregnant to do it.”
It felt as if the entire cave was moving under my feet. This was the second time Blake had mentioned marriage and kids. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes—tears of pure happiness.
“I can’t believe you think about those things.”
Kissing my forehead, he softly replied, “Every single day.”
“Oh Blake, I love you.”
He drew me into his arms and held me.
“Come on, you two lovebirds. There’s another tour that is about to catch up with us.”
The rest of the cave tour was fascinating. Rick was the perfect guide, and I loved hearing him and Blake talk about other caves they had explored. As we climbed the stairs back above ground, I missed the peacefulness of the cave. I had snapped a few photos on my phone, and I couldn’t wait to get back and put it onto a canvas.
“Did you enjoy the cave, Morgan?” Rick asked.
“I did. I have no idea why I’ve been so afraid all these years.”
“The unknown, probably. You’re not the first to be worried. I’ve had people ask me what happens if we have a flash flood or an earthquake or any of that kind of thing when we’re in the cave.”
“Um, I hadn’t thought of those until you mentioned them.”
Blake and Rick laughed.
“Great, Rick. I’ll never get her back down in a cave now.”
“Nonsense. I’m thinking that main chamber room would make a beautiful backdrop for a painting session.”
Blake tilted his head and gave me an inquisitive look. “You mean like with a patient?”
“Well, I hadn’t thought of that. I was thinking more just for me and a few friends who like to paint, but that might work. As long as they didn’t have any issues with being confined.”
I turned to Rick. “I’m an art therapist. My practice is geared toward veterans, and I specialize in post-traumatic stress syndrome.”
“Really? What exactly is art therapy?” Rick asked.
“Not everyone wants to sit in a chair and tell someone their problems, so we use art to help them open up. It’s mostly painting, but I have patients who like to work with clay too. It might take them five or six sessions before they are ready to talk, and then they do a lot of expressing through their art. You wouldn’t believe what I can get from someone by seeing something they drew.”
“Morgan, I think this is a great idea. I have a small group of caving guys who like to come once a month—all veterans. I know for a fact one or two of them are dealing with issues on their own. One thing about my job is I have to read people. I see how certain things cause them to react. A loud noise if a rock happens to fall. A tight area where we have to crawl. Sometimes I think they do it to prove to themselves they really aren’t afraid. What would you think about offering a session here?”
“Here?” I asked, unsure if he meant down in the cave or somewhere up here in the park.
“Yes. Maybe once a month.”
“Down in the caves?”
“Sure, and maybe up here too. In the spring and fall it’s perfect weather, and look at this backdrop!”
He spread his arms wide and did a circle. I followed his gaze.
“You know, that’s a great idea. I try my best to keep my office not feeling like a typical therapist’s office, and doing something like this might make for a great experience.”
