Page 6 of Ranch's Resolve

CHAPTER FOUR: ATHENA

I still feel shaky as I turn onto the main road. The image of the woman lying on the ground in obvious distress spurred me into action. I barely noticed the men who guarded her held shotguns. They could have easily shot both Ranch and me. But they didn’t. So I’m very grateful. But not as thankful as I was when Dr. Chambers arrived. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him. We’d met before, of course. He spends much of his time with his daughter Caitlin at Crossroads. He and his other daughter, Tally, who is also a doctor, spend time at the building next to Crossroads. They’re converting the old bank into a hospital. I know the young mother and her newborn baby are in good hands.

When I reach the highway, I spot several white SUVs pulling onto the road and heading in Ranch’s direction. Their unity and speed suggest that they are law enforcement. ICE? Perhaps. While I don’t condone immigrants crossing our borders illegally, I abhor ICE’s methods. Concerned for Ranch, I dial his number.

“Athena? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but I thought I should warn you. I just spotted several unmarked vehicles heading your way,” I say, slowing down to watch the vehicles. “It might be a coincidence, but no,they just turned into your driveway. I think they’re after those people.”

“Fuck. Okay, thanks. Keep driving. Don’t come back here. I’ll take care of everything.”

Ending the call, I pull onto the road and drive straight to my office. I’m worried about what I left behind, but I trust Ranch and his club to do the right thing for the innocent, even if it isn’t the right thing according to the law.

“Good morning, Raven,” I call out as I enter my office through the back door. Raven is my receptionist and staunchest guard. She keeps my appointments and me running smoothly.

She steps into my office as I place my briefcase on my desk. She’s a formidable woman who often makes me feel inadequate. Not only is she more organized than I, but physically, she is everything I’m not. On a good day, I call myself petite and curvy. On a bad day? Short and chunky. Raven has her Nigerian mother’s height and regal bearing. She’s six feet of lean and toned muscles under skin the color of burnt caramel. Her skin color is a combination of her Nigerian mother's and German father's heritage. At work, she wears her hair in an updo, but I know it typically falls to her waist like a dark chocolate fondue. Her sharp cheekbones and pointed chin form a diamond that highlights her silvery blue eyes. If I’d met her outside the office, I’d assume she was a top model. Hell, if she wanted to model, she’d make ten or more times what she does working for me. However, she’s been my assistant since the day she glided into my office and demanded the job. I’ve never regretted the decision. Not only does she manage my office and schedule better than I could, but she manages me pretty well, too.

“How was your visit to the ranch? Do you think it will work?” Raven asks.

I sigh as I take a seat behind my desk. “It’s a gorgeous piece of land, and Ranch seems willing to work with us. They have cows,horses, and chickens. He’s willing to bring in goats or create a petting zoo for the kids. Something came up, so we couldn’t hammer out the details. We’ll meet later to discuss the details.”

“That’s good news,” Raven says as she hands me a stack of folders. “These are your appointments for this afternoon. You have a lunch date with Caitlin Chambers at one.”

I nod as I glance through the folders. My first patient is Georgie Wells. She’s a new patient who came to me after a coworker trapped her in a conference room after hours and raped her. This session will be our fourth. Our first meeting mainly consisted of silence, which is normal for a first session. Most people have difficulty sharing with a stranger, even, or especially, if that stranger is a professional. I’m hoping she’ll open up in our upcoming session. I’ll push her, but not too hard.

I review my notes on the other cases before returning to Georgie’s folder. I make notes about ideas to help draw her out. I close the file when Raven knocks on the door to announce Georgie’s arrival.

The quiet girl slides around Raven, her eyes rocketing between my admin and me. She returns my smile with a shy one. I study her clothes as she sits down in the comfy chair. She has her long, dirty blonde hair hanging loose. When she leans forward, it covers her face. Her face is devoid of makeup. Her heavy denim jeans are two sizes too big. Under her bulky sweater, she’s wearing another shirt. Considering the warm day outside, I feel sweaty just looking at her. Her clothes have become her armor or her camouflage.

Rising from my desk, I pass by the thermostat and turn up the AC before grabbing water from the small refrigerator, where I store my lunch and refreshments. I hand her the water before sitting across from her.

“How are you doing today, Georgie?” I ask her after she takes a large gulp of water.

She shrugs as she closes the lid. I give her a few moments to speak. She stares at the floor but flicks glances at me several times before leaning back and sighing.

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“Because being here makes me think about what happened.”

“So, when you’re not in my office, you don’t think about it?”

She winces. “No. I think about it. I dream about it. I can’t get away from it!” She finally explodes.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened? Facing the truth and sharing typically helps survivors take back control.”

She stares at me with a combination of distrust, disbelief, and hope. “You think it will help? How?”

“Have you ever had a pimple that grew and grew until it finally popped?” I ask.

She curls her lip in disgust but nods.

“Did you ever touch it as it was growing and feel pain or soreness?”

She nods again.

“What happened when it finally popped? Did it stop hurting?”

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