A Scarred Soul: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 2) (29 page)

“Well, thank you. You saved Dad; I appreciate that.”

“No problem.” He paused for a moment before speaking. “I’m going away tomorrow…”

His diluted smile did nothing to stem the inexplicable wave of panic surging through her. What happened in Vegas now seemed unfinished yet final, if that made any sense. She glanced out the window towards his pickup over by the barn. Outside it was dark, so moonless that she couldn’t see if his possessions were loaded on the back.

“Hey, look at you. It’s okay.” He came to her, crouched down by the sofa and took her hand, cupping it inside his that way he did so she could make a loose ball or a tight fist, but either way, he protected her.

“Why? Where are you going?” Her voice was high and tight, making her sound needy. Damn, she hated that. She wanted to sit up and take control of herself, but for once, she decided to take whatever came lying down. It felt oddly indulgent, this giving in, and a little bit scary.

“I met yesterday with Adoette, one of the VA chaplains. I saw her at Doc’s funeral. She’s sat in on a couple of group sessions, so knows what I’m about. She suggested I go on a healing retreat, and found me a place at an organization she works with. To be honest, I wanted to back off all this stuff, this continual focus on me, but this place she’s sending me to is a bit different. Adoette wants me to build on the groundwork Doc and I have already put in place, but she believes I need to heal my soul and make peace with my war.”

Lulah saw how hard he worked at trying to stay positive about what he told her, but the weight of it, the almost last-chance feel of what he was about to do, showed through the mask he tried to keep in place. “Are you afraid?”

His fist closed tightly over hers, compressing the loose ball of her hand, pushing her nails into her palm. It was a small pain, but she never attempted to flex her fingers open or make a sound, because the pain in Vince’s eyes was as tangible as that of her hand.

“I’m frightened it won’t work, that I won’t be able to engage again with my soul. But what Adoette explained to me makes sense. You see, most cultures have cleansing rituals for their returning warriors. They recognize that despite performing our duty as protectors, we can be left with moral and spiritual injuries and that, before rejoining society, we need to go through a purification of our spirit to reconnect with our true selves. That gives us a chance to be able to function again out of combat.”

Lulah understood she was lucky not to have known the before-the-war Vince, because that removed any longing to have him as the person he once was. All she could hope was, for his sake, he could improve from the person he was now.

V
ince left
before dawn the following morning. Lulah made him breakfast, but he ate little. Although the retreat wasn’t starting for another few days, he said he had things to sort out before he arrived.

“There are a few stops I want to make. I need to see the guys. I saw them at Doc’s funeral.”

“The guys?” Tight lines of distress returned to his face, and he looked like the Vince of months before.

He nodded. “Nathan, Will, Caleb, and Zane…my old battle buddies. This probably sounds crazy, but their spirits were in the trees near the cemetery. I want to connect with them one more time. I’m scared. What if they tell me—you know, the people at the retreat—I’m scared they’ll tell me to stop trying to connect with them. To move on. I don’t know if I can do that.”

She reached for his arm that he rested on the table, dismayed when he started at her light touch. “I’m sure they’ll help you find a place of peace for them, so that they will always be with you, but in an easier way.” To be honest, she had no idea what they would do, but she couldn’t bear to let him drive away in this state.

“I’ll stop at Taryn’s house to drop off the trolley for Gable. I had this need to see Gable’s joy when I gave it to her. It was ego as much as anything, and that need has gone now. It disappeared when I left Vegas after I was so cruel to you. As I drove away, it hit me that the love I feel isn’t about me; it’s about doing the right thing for those I love. For you and Gable. If I insist on seeing Gable, it will cause tension and anger between Taryn and I, but the person who will actually suffer will be our daughter. So I’ll go early, leave the trolley with a letter I’ve written, and perhaps sometime, when she’s older, she will understand.”

“And…” Lulah started.

“And us? Is that what you wanted to say?”

His face said he was right with her, at the same place, and the fact that he’d offered her the same question eased her enough to allow him a temporary reprieve. “It is what I want to say, but I don’t expect an answer right now.”

She saw his relief, as visible as if the words were written across his face. “My head’s all messed up. I didn’t go back to the sleeping meds again when I returned from Vegas. For some reason, I wanted my body pure, free from drugs, experiencing every bit of pain, so that I could start the retreat in a state of honesty, I guess.” He stood, taking a final look around the cabin as if he would never return.

Lulah stood, too, a delicate fissure splitting her heart, and she followed him to the door. She took hold of his arm, more firmly this time, and Vince stopped, his back to her. “Go safely, Vince. I know you’ll be true to yourself, and I’m giving to you every bit of good energy I have to help reunite yourself and your soul.”

She shifted slightly so that she could see his face as he stared across the yard, seeing nothing that was there, but everything that troubled him. After a moment, he pulled her against him, his murmured thanks like a warm breeze across her. She stayed in place as Vince eased from her grip, as he and Calliope took what seemed a long walk to his pickup.

T
wo weeks
later Vince’s letter arrived.

Dear Lulah,

This retreat in the Catskills is beautiful. You would love it up here, well, apart from all the angst our group is going through. Yet having said that, it is a place of healing and peace, and I feel as though I’m finally beginning to like myself again.

They are teaching me to be a true warrior. I have to say that is the last thing I expected before I came here. However, understanding that I am a warrior and how to be faithful to that part of myself is helping me reconnect with my soul. I sleep now without the aid of drugs, and that sleep is long, good, and mostly free of the nightmares.

Calliope is making friends all over, and there are a couple of guys here who would really love their own service dog. More business for you, Lulah.

We have been through a number of healing rituals that last as long as they need to…usually hours, sometimes well into the night, or even the small hours of the morning. There is a theme of forgiveness, sharing our stories, and acknowledging the things that have harmed our souls.

I have a favor to ask, and it comes from deep within my heart. It is enormous in its weight of complexity and emotion, so I’d like you to think carefully before you decide. If you agree, I’d hope you would be doing it as much for yourself—and my presumptive side wants to say “us”—as for me.

You said once that you’d be honored to hear my story if I ever felt capable of telling it to you. Well, in another week, I’ll be finished here, and on our last weekend, the families of the guys here are coming down for a night. There will be a ceremony where we share our stories, and family and friends bear witness to what has troubled us. I imagine it will be harrowing for everyone involved, but it will also be healing. You are the only person I want here, to listen, to share, and to understand.

Adoette, the chaplain from the VA in Halo Peak who got me into the retreat, is joining us, and she says you can share a ride with her. Please think about this carefully. No need to reply to this letter, but contact Adoette if you wish to come. She has attended a number of these ceremonies, so she can tell you how they work. I have enclosed her business card with her contact details.

I will respect your decision and honor however you feel. Please don’t feel any pressure to attend.

The letter was signed with his initials and a small illustration of a man asleep in a meadow, watched over by a dog.

“
A
lthough it is structured
, the proceedings are also free-flow in that things arise, unique to each group of people, well, each person, really. Meditation and discussions are guided so that we stay on track and so that each veteran has the opportunity to share what they want without feeling rushed. The last thing we want is for a veteran to hold stuff back.”

Lulah sat in the passenger seat of Adoette’s car traveling to the retreat. She was coming to like the chaplain, pleased to have Adoette to school her through her nerves before they arrived.

“Will I have to talk?”

“That’s up to you. Nobody has to do anything, but many are compelled.”

Compelled in the same way she was when she’d received Vince’s letter. There was no hesitation on her part in contacting Adoette. Not because she was determined to spend the weekend at the retreat, but because of a need to find out more information. And what she’d found out made her want to go and be with Vince.

What she didn’t want was to damage the healing he’d already done, so she’d confessed to the chaplain that she and Vince had fumbled their way in and out of an intimate relationship.

“You may be surprised in what you discover about yourself. Approach the weekend with an open mind, eyes wide, defenses down. Bring only a listening heart; it’s all Vince will want.”

“I’m frightened I’ll let him down, that there is something he’s expecting from me that I’m incapable of giving him.”

“Are you worried that Vince may think that since he is improving he will want to deepen your relationship? Expect some sort of commitment?”

Of course, she didn’t know. Maybe deep within her she worried that she would never heal from the wounds of being let down by her parents.

Finally, they turned down a narrow tree-lined drive that opened to a wooden lodge built by a lake. Around the lake’s shore were small cabins, and a couple of rowboats were tied at a jetty. Adoette parked the car beneath a large covered entranceway. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The door opened, and Vince stepped through then stopped. Lulah’s heart began to hammer in her chest. “Why am I so nervous?” she asked in a half-whisper.

Adoette clasped her hand and squeezed. “Perhaps there’s more in that heart than you thought.” She opened the car door. “I’m going inside, I’ll leave you and Vince for a moment. He should know which cabin they’ve put you in.”

Vince came down to the car. He opened her door, and when she climbed out, she couldn’t quite go to him, couldn’t grasp their connection that seemed to wave about in the breeze, teasing and taunting and hovering out of reach.

“Relax, Lulah.” His voice sounded soft, barely making its way to her, and she drew a breath, wondering if he had spoken at all. Gradually, she pulled her gaze up to his face, to see a light in his eyes she’d never seen before. Despite it being nearly winter, his skin looked darker, as if burnished by the crystal air up here. But it was the light in his eyes that spoke to her.

She nodded. Yes, she could relax, soon, once she’d found her footing, because this was disarming, this different person who stood before her. “Hi, Vince.”

“Thank you for coming.”

She smiled, and he seemed to drink it in, a sip to test before gulping, as if quenching a massive thirst. He grabbed her bags and suggested they walk to the cabin.

“Where’s Calliope?” she asked.

“Right here.”

And she was there beside Vince, somehow not such a big presence at his side, as if the dog in a sense became an extension of him, moving through their world in gentle peace. Both, it seemed, had eased up the hyper-vigilance.

Vince walked her to a cabin at the end of a small group of buildings. “We’re all housed down here,” he said, holding the door for her. “You and I are sharing; I hope that’s okay for you. There are two bedrooms.”

“That’s great, Vince.” The cabins were dotted around the lake, and to be honest, it seemed more like a resort than a retreat.

“I swim in the lake each morning.”

“You’re kidding! It must be freezing.”

“Yeah, well, you know how much I like cold water.”

Only too well.

“Are you okay? You’re so quiet. I’ve never known you this quiet.”

“I’m a bit disoriented. You look well, Vince. How are you?”

“I’m good. Do you want to walk? We can talk about what happens here. We’re free until dinner in a couple of hours.”

They took the path around the lake. Other veterans were with their families and partners. Some parents, some wives and girlfriends. Vince reached for her hand in a warm, comforting grasp, so different from other times when his hold contained a desperation that mirrored the way he tried to hold himself together.

“I feel as if I’m healing at last, Lulah. It’s a revelation to know that being a warrior is a good thing instead of something inside myself to despise, something I thought of as some destructive beast the war awakened in me. The beast wasn’t the warrior, not in the mythic sense; the beast was the warrior unbalanced.

“That’s hard for me to understand.”

“I know. It was hard for me, too, at first, but as we’ve worked through various programs so that we understand and identify with the warrior spirit, well, we can start to love ourselves again.”

His hand gripped hers tighter now, the desperation of him needing her to understand what he said was in the firm pressure of each finger, the circle completed by his thumb so that she became captured, physically and emotionally, by all the hope contained in that grasp. Her own anguish grew as she understood that she hadn’t stayed there for him those times when he’d felt she’d seen his soul. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t be his healer; he needed to do it himself.

“I couldn’t help you, Vince.”

“You’re helping me now.” The grip of his hand eased, and he nudged her with his elbow. “Sorry for the bone-crusher moment.”

“I imagine there will be more.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“I said I’d be honored to hear your story, Vince. I still feel that way, and I mean it from my heart. To understand what broke you is a privilege.”

“It’s a risk, Lulah. You may be disgusted by what I’ve done or hate me.”

“No. I want to understand. You’re so different, now. Even physically.”

“Does that mean I’ve lost my UHT Guy status?”

She stopped him on the track, and with a fingertip to his chest to indicate he should stay still, she made a slow, appraising circle of him. “It’s enhanced, dude. Seeing you now, I hadn’t realized how much of the pain you carried was evident on your face. Your eyes, Vince, they’re so different. You don’t look haunted anymore.”

“I think that washed away with all the tears I’ve shed over the past weeks.”

As they caught up to another couple, Vince steered Lulah along a side path into a more forested area. She had so many questions. “I don’t know where to start, Vince.”

“You’ve started already by coming here. But the truth is, you started a long time ago when you accepted me as I was each time I walked through the gates at the Sanctuary. You probably never realized the importance that a single area of my life existed where people would allow me to be me, without pressures or expectations.”

Lulah nudged his arm. “We were all scared of you, that’s why.”

“I don’t blame you. I was scared of myself.”