Page 60 of Trusting a Cowgirl

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Riley pulledout Faye’s chair and then Grace’s when their errands were finally complete. They opted to eat at one of the nicer restaurants in town rather than risk being talked about at the diner. The absolute last thing he wanted was to be seen withtwoCallahans and have another run-in with their godfather.

He picked up the menu and glanced over it before he put it down.

“So, Riley, what branch of the military did you serve?” Faye asked.

Without missing a beat, he spouted off, “The army national guard.”

“Wow. Have you ever been deployed overseas?”

“Yes…” he drawled, his eyes meeting Grace’s. She’d probably be watching him to see if he was able to handle this conversation with her sister. Already his heart beat a little heavier. People who didn’t know much about what he did never really liked the answers he could give them.

And ultimately, they never liked to find out just what he had to deal with on a daily basis.

The anger.

The guilt.

The depression.

“Where was your last assignment?” Faye reached for her glass of water and took a long sip.

Riley cleared his throat. This was a test. It would dictate how Grace viewed him. They were innocent enough questions. He ought to be able to answer them without feeling triggered. Thankfully, Grace had steered clear of his more recent stories. Instead, they focused on the things he enjoyed.

Unfortunately, everything that had happened in the last couple of years were what made him hate who he was.

He rubbed his hand down his face. “I served in a desert location on a small base we shared with some special forces and CIA agents.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. I think I heard about that one. The president was pulling you guys out, right?”

“Faye—” Grace started, but Faye ignored her.

“I bet it was hard, wasn’t it? Did you guys have to deal with a lot over there when the flu hit hard this year?”

Riley stiffened. Faye wasn’t one of the normal curious individuals who only wanted to know if he had ever killed someone. She was actually informed. His throat tightened and he sought out Grace’s eyes, but his vision blurred. “Yeah,” he croaked, “it was a lot harder than anyone will ever understand.”

“I can only imagine. I had a friend who was telling me some stuff he heard about closing down that base. Were you there when that happened? He was saying that—”

Riley shot out of his seat and his chair toppled backward, drawing the focus of everyone in the restaurant. Without another word, he charged toward the door. The walls were closing in on him and the sounds of all those voices calling for help overwhelmed his senses. He couldn’t see or hear anything but the cries, pleading, begging.

Even when the cool air hit his face, Riley was stuck back where it all went wrong. He shut his eyes to push out the memories. Hot emotion burned in the back of his throat and behind his eyes, clawing for a way to escape. A sob bubbled up like molten lava and he swallowed it back.

No. Not now. Not here.

He vaguely realized that the door beside him opened and footsteps approached. “Riley?”

His head snapped up and he stared at Grace and Faye. Both of them looked completely terrified. Or maybe he was just projecting. That was something his therapist back home used to tell him he did. When the voices and the noises wouldn’t leave his head, he’d picture them on the faces of the people who were around him.

Riley ducked his head, raking his hands through his hair as he took in several deep breaths.

A gentle hand touched his arm. “You can talk to me. You know that right?” Grace’s soft voice filtered through the cacophony of sounds that continued to beat against him like the sound of a heavy storm.

She was wrong. He couldn’t talk to her. He couldn’t talk to anyone. Judgment came in all forms, and the only person he could trust when it came to these things was himself.

Himself and the few remaining members of his team.

Riley took one final deep breath and slowly lifted his head to gaze into Grace’s concerned eyes. “I’m sorry,” his voice cracked and he reached for her hand to give it a squeeze. “Sometimes I get a little claustrophobic. I don’t have episodes often, but when I do, it’s not pretty.” It was the lie he told everyone.

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