Page 44 of Silent Threat
“Fine,” he said. “I’m a leaf,” he grumbled. “But if next you tell me I’m a little teapot, I’m out of here.”
God, her smile lit up her whole face. And she was already the person with the most light inside her that he’d ever seen.
“We’ll stick to nature images,” she promised. “Now pull your essence from that leaf, pull into the branch. You are the branch. The rain and the wind are blowing, but you are solidly attached to the tree. You will bend, but you won’t break.”
He did as she said, picturing a sturdy branch, and felt calmer. He wouldn’t break. The worst had already happened. He had lost his physical abilities, and his friends were dead. Somehow, he was still here.
“Pull in a little deeper,” she told him then. “You are the trunk, and this is a mighty strong tree. You can easily stand against the wind without giving. The rain washes you. Not even the storm can move you. You are stronger than the storm.”
Was he?
Yes, he was. He had strength beyond his arm, beyond the possession of all his senses. He was more. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of a different Cole Makani Hunter. One not described in medical terms, but a core, an essence not defined by his physical prowess or lack thereof.
“Let’s slip deeper again,” Annie said. “You are the roots. The storm is far above. You are safe, you are strong, you are connected so securely to life, nothing could tear you up. The rain feeds you. Every storm that brings the rains just makes you stronger. All that noise, all that clamor, all the drama, all the bad thoughts, that’s happening somewhere far above. Down here is what matters, deep down, deep inside. This is where you live, where you grow. It’s good and safe here. And it’s effortless. You don’t have to hold on with all your might. The earth is holding you safe. You can relax.”
She let his hand go and reached up with both hands to touch his face, gently brushing the pads of her thumbs over his eyelids until he closed his eyes.
When she moved to leave him, he wrapped his left arm around her and pulled her closer until her head was on his shoulder. He held her there, without force, willing to let go if she was uncomfortable.
He hoped she’d stay. The position wasn’t sexual. He simply needed the contact. Without his hearing, with his eyes closed, he needed an anchor.
Maybe, when he didn’t go for more, she understood what he needed, because she leaned against him. And he relaxed. He was as relaxed as he ever remembered being.
He still wasn’t 100 percent sold on meditation, butthis—her warm body pressed against his—thishe liked.
He didn’t know how much time passed before he opened his eyes.
When he stirred, she pulled back with a soft smile. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Had he slept?
He must have. He felt rested.
The rain had stopped outside their shelter.
Before he could think of what to stay, she stood, shaking out legs that were probably half-numb from sitting. “We’d better get back.”
And then she disappeared down the ladder.
But before she did ... Cole’s gaze fastened onto her muddy clothes. Mud that had transferred from him to her. An instant, visceral reaction stung him, as merciless as a whip. A voice in his head said,That can’t happen.
The mud he was mired in, the darkness still inside, he would not allow that to touch Annie.
Chapter Ten
ANNIE LOOKED DOWNthe narrow trail, plotting the path of shallowest rain puddles, unsure about what had happened in the deer blind. A small breakthrough?That’d be nice.
Behind her, Cole thumped to the ground surprisingly quietly, considering his size. “So that counts as a session, right? We can cross another one off the list?”
Oh.She hid her face from him so he wouldn’t see that his question hurt. She’d thought they’d actually had a moment of connection up there.
Maybe she’d seen what she’d wanted to see. She knew he didn’t put much faith in ecotherapy, didn’t like the idea of needing help, yet the subtext of his comment was easy to read: I-hate-this-and-can’t-wait-till-our-sessions-are-over ... She felt knocked back.
Don’t take it personally.He was the patient, and she was the therapist. Her feelings weren’t the primary consideration. So she turned toward him to say, “Nice try,” with as light an expression as she could manage. Then she walked out of the woods, waving at him when they parted at the trailhead without another word.
Thursday
As Annie slipped behind the wheel of her car the next day to go home for the noon feeding, she was still thinking about Cole. She only stopped when her phone rang.
