“No.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I said I was the kind of broken thatdidn’t yet know how to receive help.”
“What did he say back?”
“He said,‘Yeah. Eat your soup.’”
She breathes out shakily.“Beef and barley.”
I stiffen against her. “How’d you know?”
“It’s a beef-and-barley story, Sullivan.”
A laugh comes up out of me,surprising usboth.
“Tank runs the lumberyard, where I work.Andhe’sa part of the veteran’s program atHavenridgeRanch.”
“You like him.”
“Yeah, I like him.”
The fire crackles, and the storm pulls at the eaves.
Tesslifts our joined hands and presses my knuckles to her mouth, her breath warm and steady against my skin.“Tell me aboutyourteam. And yourcall sign.”
“I wasthesenior. I had three other men. They used to jokethat Ihad eyes in the back of my head.”
Shedoesn’task the question Ican’tanswer. Shedoesn’task for names. She holds my hand to her mouth and waits.Ihaven’tbeen touched gently in so long that my body is having to learn, in real time, that touch can mean something other than triage.
I take a breath.Another.
“Davis,”Isay finally.“And Hooper. Hooper made it home.That’s all I have tonight.”
“That’s all you need to have tonight.”
We’re quiet for a long time after that,her head on my shoulder,my hand in her hair.Two people on a rug in front of a fire while a storm tears a hole in the side of a ridge.
At some point,she sleeps.
Idon’t.I sit there with my arm gone numb and her hair under my chin and the wood stove low and the wind taking a long, cold turn around the eaves, and I think…
There it is.
That’s the line.
And I’ve just crossed it.
I don’t know yet what I’m going to do about it.
What I do is shift slowly andcarefullyuntilI’mlying on my back on the rug with her tucked up against my side. I pull the woolthrow offthe back of the couch and over us.My bootsstayon, thedoor in my line of sight,myhand at the small of her backas if itbelongs there.
Tessmakes a small, sleepy sound and presses her cheek into the wool of my flannel.
And in the safest cabin on the ridge, with a tree in her kitchen and a storm at the windows,Isleepthrough the night for the first time in years.
Chapter 8
