At the Edge of a Dark Forest Read online

  Cole rolled onto Carly and thrust her to the floor. She flailed against his weight. He shoved his residual forearm into her chin, squeezing her windpipe.

  She worked to form words against the crush of her vocal chords. His eyes were open but dark and hollow. Carly could almost see into hell.

  “Cole,” she choked. Carly thrashed some more, wriggling from his grip. “Cole!”

  He jerked, eyes sparking to life. His expression ran waves of disgust, pain then horror in one eternal second. He rolled off her. “What are you doing here?” His voice like flint on rock.

  Carly filled her lungs with the air she’d been denied. Her mind screeched to a halt, grateful her life still resided within her. She reached to her neck, caressing the skin just in his death grip. “You were …” she pulled in a breath, “ … having a …” another breath, “ … nightmare.”

  “And you appointed yourself my savior?”

  His anger startled her. “No.” What could she say? “I … it just looked horrible.”

  His expression confirmed it had been. “What were you doing in my room?”

  She sat up. “I heard you scream.”

  He turned his body to lift himself off the floor. “Well, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  She stood and closed her bathrobe around her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She strode out the door and bypassed the main kitchen. Not even Mrs. Rivera’s lemon bars could assuage her mind now. She’d need to spend time in face-on-the-floor kind of prayer. Cole’s needs were too great for any one person to bear. Joe was right. There was only One who could help this man.

  Chapter Nine

  AT THE EDGE OF A DARK FOREST

  by Connie Almony

  Carly couldn’t believe she found herself heading toward the stable this morning for a measure of peace. This place usually made her tremble in fear. But Joe’s gentle wisdom always poured over her like a warm shower. She needed that after last night’s run-in with Cole.

  Joe brushed the length of a dapple grey, smaller than the beast Cole liked to ride. His eyes twinkled as he greeted her. “You know this is where we keep the horses, don’t you?”

  She smirked back. “Yes, Joe, I do.”

  “Sam tells me you and Lightning are getting along better these days.”

  “We’ve closed the distance.” She didn’t mention how much she enjoyed watching Cole trot on the large animal, no longer needing her at his side.

  Joe clapped dust off his hands. “That’s great. Maybe we’ll get you to ride Miss Gray, here, before long.” He patted the horse. She whinnied.

  “Ha! Don’t press your luck. Mr. Sakamoto.”

  He pushed the brush deep into the grooves around the horse’s flank. “So what brings you to the stable?”

  Carly’s hand found the skin at her neck, still raw from the night before. “Cole has terrible nightmares.”

  Joe’s expression sobered as his gaze traveled to her fingers. “Did he do that to you?”

  “He didn’t mean to.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he was even awake. His eyes were so …” a chill ran through her at the memory, “ … vacant.”

  Joe stopped brushing. “It’s the PTSD. Sometimes Cole has flashbacks during the day.” Joe dropped onto a stool. “A few months ago he yelled at Manny to keep a distance from the trash truck driving in front of them.” He shook his head. “Because it could be loaded with insurgents. Manny said he’d glanced in the rearview afterward and Cole looked totally embarrassed—like he’d just realized what he’d said. He’s always on high-alert.”

  “Can anything be done for him?”

  Joe sucked in a sustaining breath. “Sure, if only he’d acknowledge he needs help and accepts it. Unfortunately our boy is filled with a lethal dose of pride.”

  Carly thought about the number of vets she’d rehabbed. “I wonder what makes one soldier more prone to PTSD than others.”

  “Who knows? All sorts of soldiers, from wonderful families, struggle with it. But I’d guess it doesn’t help that Cole has never asked for help. I fear he believes no one really cares. And it’s hard to understand the ugliness of war without relying on the sovereignty of an eternal God who can turn even that into something good.”

  Carly’s eyes burned. “I’m not even sure I, with all my years in church, can do that.”

  Joe’s smile warmed her. “That doesn’t come from sitting on a pew, but lots and lots of time with your Savior and plenty of personal struggles cleansed by the Lord.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Cole is a man with many demons, Carly. He entered the Marines for all the wrong reasons. Now, he’s left with flashbacks, hyper-vigilance, and without limbs or a reason to live.”

  He hitched his thumb in his belt loop. “A man needs purpose, and Cole feels none.”

  The tear ran warm down Carly’s cheek. Joe’s gaze seemed to follow it. She swiped it away, completely powerless against this challenge.

  Joe’s brows narrowed. “Are you …?” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  What was he going to ask? And why did Carly suddenly feel exposed? She looked at Joe one final time before turning to leave. He nodded his goodbye. She prayed all the way back to the house. It was all she could do.

  COLE NURSED THE Dr. Pepper in the living room, wishing with all he had it packed more power. His nerves buzzed and jolted at every sound. Poor Mrs. Rivera tip-toed through the kitchen, so as not to receive any more of Cole’s rage.

  Did she have to drop that pan an hour ago? He’d reached for his gun, but found none. Of course not. He no longer carried. In fact, he’d found no real finger to pull the trigger, either. Only the myo-electric arm he’d been struggling to master over the past several weeks. But the instinct to defend himself was there just the same.

  Just one sip of—Oh, he didn’t care what. He’d take kerosene right now. Even the rubbing alcohol and mouthwash in the bathroom medicine cabinet called his name. But he’d resisted … for now.

  The front door clicked open. Footsteps, then Charles Jurvis, the Harrison family’s long-time man-of-business, appeared in the living-room archway. “Sheesh, Cole. You look awful.”

  Cole ran his parched tongue along the back of his teeth. Thirsty.

  Of course he looked awful in contrast to Jurvis’s crisp, pin-striped suit. Sunlight glowed through the window from behind him, casting a halo that framed his close-cropped, graying afro and ebony features.

  Cole had always liked Jurvis, who seemed a Wall Street prophet. He had a wisdom about the financial world. Probably a mixture of genius and what he picked up trailing his mother as a boy when she cleaned the house of a wealthy investor.

  Cole dropped the paperback novel he’d been flipping through on the end table. Drivel. He couldn’t imagine who’d read that romance stuff—smoldering eyes and heaving breasts.

  Jurvis eyed it. “Your taste in reading has changed since last I visited.”

  Cole shook his head. “That’s Carly’s.”

  “The girl you wanted me to investigate?”

  “It’s her family I wanted you to investigate.”

  “Same difference.” Jurvis opened the cabinets beneath the wet bar.

  “She left it in my bedroom last night.”

  Jurvis turned, eyes wide. “Am I too late?”

  Cole scrubbed his face. “She heard one of my nightmares and came to help.”

  “Uh-oh. She plays the caring type. It seems I am too late.” He opened another empty cabinet.

  “You won’t find anything in there.”

  Jurvis pivoted, glass in hand. “Why not?”

  “We cleared the house of alcohol.” He blinked. “It seems I’m to be sober now.” Cole’s tongue trailed the roof of his over-dry mouth.

  Jurvis’s gaze lingered on the glass. “Ah, that explains your eyes darting around in your head, your agitated appearance,” he pointed. “And I think you missed a spot shaving your head today.”

  Col
e’s hand absently reached to his scar before he caught the joke in his lawyer’s eyes. “So what have you found?”

  Jurvis rummaged the mini-fridge for a Coke and poured it into his tumbler. “Nothing really.” He took a seat in front of Cole. “At least not more than we already knew. The company’s being sued. The prosthetics are defective.” He gestured to the arm and leg Cole wore as a matter of course these days. “Why in the world would you try their products?”

  “Don’t knock them. Look. I can now do the key grip.” Cole raised his myo-electric arm, rolled the metal digits in and closed the thumb on the side of the pointer finger. It took an eternity, but he’d finally gotten the dynamics down. “Here’s the power grip.” He moved the thumb manually with his left hand, then worked his arm muscles to close his fingers with the thumb over the middle digits. “And how about the mouse grip.” Cole worked again to close the thumb and pinky with the other fingers straighter. He maneuvered his arm as though moving a computer mouse.

  Jurvis’s eyebrows rose in mock salute. “Impressive. Now if only you could do the martini grip to hand me a drink, I’d be thrilled.”

  Cole would have to practice that one—not. He sighed.

  “Bet you can’t do this.” Cole worked his muscles to command the hand to spin a 360 on its wrist. He loved that ability. It reminded him of a toy car he’d gotten as a kid that twirled on the floor.

  At the glazing of Jurvis’s eyes, Cole stilled the hand and got back to business. “How about the father? What did you find out about the company when he ran it?”

  Jurvis shrugged. “Top notch as far as I can tell. Many of the older physical therapists I spoke with said they were the most recommended a decade ago.”

  “So what Henry told me was true?”

  Jurvis crossed one long leg over the other. “It may have been true, but who’s to say the daughter isn’t more like the sons than she is the father.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Jurvis folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t you think you should have researched her before you let her move in and sober you?” His smile edged up one side. “ … come to your bedroom at night and give you body parts?”

  Cole tensed. Why did he feel the need to protect Carly’s honor? “It’s not like that.”

  “Than what is it like?”

  “I trust her father. He seemed to be someone who really cared about what he was doing.” Something about his attention to Cole on the walk home in the snow, and his eyes as he told the story of his brother. “I wanted to do this for him.”

  Jurvis sipped his un-doctored soda and winced. “Well let’s just hope they aren’t playing you for an overly wealthy fool.”

  “Cole, I thought we’d—” Carly halted in the archway.

  Jurvis stood and held out his hand. “You must be Ms. Rose.”

  She shook it.

  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Carly turned to look at Cole.

  “This is Charles Jurvis, Carly. My lawyer.”

  “Oh. Nice to meet you.”

  Cole held the romance novel out to her, using his myo-electric arm. “I believe this is yours.”

  She smiled like a proud teacher and neared to recover it. She tugged. “Now you need to let go.”

  “Oh, right.” He worked his arm muscles and the metal fingers opened.

  “Where’d you find this? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

  “You left it in my bedroom last night.”

  Cole loved the way her cheeks pinked as she glanced self-consciously at Jurvis. Jurvis’s smile only added to her color. There was something so innocent about her. It drew Cole in. Jurvis would call it a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Cole hoped she was just a sheep.

  What are you really, Beauty?

  She clutched the novel against her ribs. “I expected you in the gym ten minutes ago.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” His hippocampus must be on strike again today. “Jurvis came and I completely forgot.”

  Jurvis drained his glass and thumped it on the bar. “That’s okay. I’m leaving.” He glanced at Carly. “Nice to meet you Ms. Rose.” He strolled out the door.

  “I didn’t mean to send him away.”

  “We were done anyway.”

  “It’s just that you’ve been doing so well with the leg, I wanted to suggest we prepare you for a hike. We’ll work on maneuvering the knee to bend more fluidly, and strengthen your muscles. We can even try out that other foot I told you about that’s good on rough terrain.” She looked excited about the possibilities. “Then you can show me the spot you’ve mentioned. You know, the one where you saw my father.”

  Henry, the man Cole now realized had saved him from ending his own life. Was Carly more like her father or her brothers? Cole wished he could know for sure.

  Chapter Ten

  AT THE EDGE OF A DARK FOREST

  by Connie Almony

  There she sat. Reading that confounded romance novel at the patio table. Cole would never have expected her to be the type to read that stuff. He closed the French doors with a thud and she jolted. Must have been pretty engrossed.

  “Oh. Cole. You’re here.” She placed the paperback on the table. “You ready for the hike?”

  He caught the heel of his prosthetic leg on the step in order to hinge it to bend. “Yup.”

  Her brown eyes softened as she watched him maneuver. “Is that the hiking foot?”

  “Mm-hm.” He patted his leg. “Let’s test drive this baby.”

  She lifted the metal crutch from the chair beside her.

  Cole shook his head. “I don’t need a crutch.”

  Carly smirked. “I knew you’d say that. That’s why I got it myself. It’s for safety while you get used to the terrain with a new limb. You know, normal people sometimes use a walking stick on a hike.”

  He harrumphed as he received it from her outstretched grasp and led the way to the woods. “Are you suggesting I’m not normal?”

  She remained close beside him. “No. Only that it’s okay for you to be human every now and again.”

  They entered the forested path. Carly’s eyes sparkled as her gaze swept the trees overhead. She drew in a deep breath. “I love the smell here. It’s intoxicating.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. At the moment, Cole was intoxicated himself.

  He stumbled when the leg didn’t bend quickly, then caught himself with the crutch. Carly’s eyes met his with an I-told-you-so smile, but she said not a word. He smirked back. It was amazing how much they communicated in silence these days. Like they knew each other so well. In fact, no one on earth seemed to know all his flaws as she did. And yet, she didn’t run in the other direction. Of course, his staff had stayed for years, but they were paid well to do so. Carly must want his investment in her new designs something fierce. He couldn’t think of any other reason she’d endure so much.

  He gestured for her to lead the way, pointing the correct path at the fork. He wanted to watch the wonder on her face. It seemed to mirror his own pleasure as he traveled these woods. She’d call it God’s creation. Cole couldn’t understand how a God could make the beauty of the trees, the flowers, the songs of the birds, the fresh smell of the earth below, and still allow the ugliness of war. He chose not to believe at all.

  He couldn’t wait to show Carly his perch.

  “So.” His voice held a bit of mischief. “Tell me of this literary tome you’re reading.”

  Did she just turn pink? “What literary tome?”

  “Your novel. The one you can’t seem to get enough of. It must be very good.”

  She smiled, almost sheepishly. “It is.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s a romance.” She dropped her gaze to the uneven terrain. “Watch out here.”

  Cole maneuvered, working to hinge the leg and balancing with the crutch. “Is that all? No story. Just romance.”

  “Oh yes, there’s a story, but I read it more for the relationship betwe
en the man and the woman. This writer really knows how to draw you into their lives. I love it.”

  “Hmmmm.”

  “I see you don’t approve.”

  “It’s not my job to approve or disapprove of what you read. You just always struck me as the classics type.”

  She turned to Cole. “Oh, I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy something contemporary—something I can relate to, and yet will allow me to escape from the stress of the day.”

  He dropped his gaze to the prosthetic foot teetering over a rock, his mind assaulted by all she’d witnessed of his unseemly life. “I guess, um, you could use an escape.”

  She stopped and turned. Her brow crunched as she considered him then held out her hand.

  “I’ve got it.” The ground wasn’t that difficult.

  “Cole you can ask for help if you need it.”

  “I don’t need it.” They walked on.

  “Escape, now and then, is good.” Her whispered words hung in the air. “What my brothers have done to my father’s company weighs on me. It’s bad enough they didn’t take their customer’s needs seriously, but ruining my father’s dream—their father’s dream—really cuts deep. My father wasn’t the most present man to his family while building his company, but he never deserved that kind of betrayal.”

  The leaves under their feet crunched and the branches snapped as they treaded the path. Cole loved the sounds. It reminded him of the goal, the journey to his domain. It filled him with awe and wonder at the forces that created it. Whatever those forces might be.

  “So tell me this story that helps you escape from your brothers’ evil dealings.”

  “It’s about a woman who inherited a ranch in Montana and falls in love with the foreman who runs it.”

  “Ah. That’s why the man with the bulging muscles on the cover wears a cowboy hat.”

  She giggled. “Yup.”

  “The cowboy hat gets ’em every time.”

  She pinked again.

  “Of course the bulging muscles never hurt.” He pointed to a path with a slight incline.