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Maggie had been talking to her pastor about it for weeks, and it was time to give a little. Trusting them again would be a battle, but she had to step out in faith. Her trust was now fully in the Lord, and he required her forgiveness.
Except that the thought of how they’d betrayed her at her weakest moment would be impossible to ever forget.
The nightmares returnedwith the little sleep he managed, and even though the dreams hardly made sense, Jack still woke up in a cold sweat. This time he made his way across a mud filled lake, and on the other side was his old partner, U.S. Marshal Robert Craig.
Jack knew instinctively how vital it was to reach the other side of the lake while the boy stood next to Craig saying nothing, a smirk on his face. Just inches from his destination, Jack lost his footing and fell into a deep crevice. His head under water, he struggled to swim in the dense, sludge-filled water while the boy’s laughter echoed around him.
The nightmares were his reward for finally getting some sleep. More than once, he’d picked up the bottle of sleeping pills and opened it. Stared inside to make sure the pills were still there. Then he closed the top again.
And now for the first time in weeks, he dialed the number for Bridget Logan, his doctor in Virginia. She asked how hewas doing, and he pictured her short salt and pepper hair and probing dark eyes.
I’m not doing OK. I’m drowning. Someone throw me a line.
But he never gave voice to the thoughts any more than he had months ago when he sat across from her, and she’d pinned him with her stare.
“Fine. Still have trouble sleeping.”
She paused a moment. “The pills will help with that, but something tells me you haven’t taken any of them.”
Sleep without nightmares would be even better. If only they had a pill for that.
He heard the rustling of a paper on the other end of the line. “Have you found a new therapist yet?”
“Not yet. Still looking. This is a small town.” He rubbed his forehead, where the headache was starting.
“There’s nothing more I can do for you. I hate doing this, but I have to close your file. It’s important that you talk to someone. You need to find another therapist. As I’ve already explained PTSD is not something you can just—”
“Good talking to you, doctor.” Jack cut her off in mid-sentence and hung up the phone.
His state of mind was just fine, although his attention span considerably worsened every time he was near Maggie. The problem was sleep. Somewhere he’d read that a man could exist on four hours of sleep a night as long as it was restful REM sleep. Of course, the article never said a man would be at his best on four hours a night, or what that man should do if he was plagued by constant nightmares.
Logan might have gone to school for ten years, and she had fancy diplomas on her wall, but no matter what she said, she didn’t know what it was like to know that two people were dead because of you.
He’d pulled another shift from Ryan who had taken a girl away for the weekend. As soon as he could leave and stop staring at the four walls, he’d stop thinking about the bad cook next door. The beautiful one with green eyes and coconut-smelling hair. The one with the smart-alecky teenager he was supposed to somehow rescue. Yeah, right.
He would be paired with Sheriff Calhoun, so he’d take the opportunity to ask him about those youth programs. Then maybe Maggie would be happy and leave him alone. He’d done what he could with Lexi. She wouldn’t exactly listen to him, and neither did he want to keep trying.
Fortunately for Jack, Calhoun was always in a pious mood on a Sunday because he hated to miss church. If Jack played his cards right, he’d have Calhoun taking his place and mentoring Lexi. He’d probably welcome the challenge.
After checking in with dispatch, Calhoun and Jack took the cruiser out. If Harte’s Peak was quiet on a normal day, Sunday gave new meaning to the word monotonous.
“How’s the new place?” Calhoun asked.
Just like that, the door was opened, and Jack walked right in. In a few minutes, he’d explained the entire situation to Calhoun.
“The Bradshaws? I know them. They’re part of my church family.” Calhoun frowned. “I knew something was going on there. Lexi always seems so unhappy.”
“You heard her dad passed away?”
“Yes, and they’ve been on our prayer chain many times. It was rough there for a while.”
“I thought maybe you could tell me of a good program for her. I could let Maggie know where she can find help.”
Then he could be off the hook. He was so close now he could almost smell and taste freedom.
“Program? The only programs I know are for kids far worse off than Lexi. No, Lexi will be OK. She’s got a good mother. A good, solid foundation.”
“I agree, but Maggie thinks she needs the influence of a father-type figure.”
