Beyond The Limit (24 page)

As Cali rose from their picnic site, she picked up the cups and handed them to Pete to stuff into the saddlebags. How did he really feel about her coming home with him? Trapped? Obligated? The way his mouth crooked upward told Cali he was very happy right now. And she didn't wish to spoil the moment with all of her hard questions.
One step at a time,
Cali cautioned herself as he mounted the Arabian, which was eagerly eating grass.
One step at a time.

“I've never been to Montana,” she confessed as Pete held out his hand and helped her mount behind him. Settling into place, she took the saddlebags over one arm and wrapped the other around his waist.

Pete reined the gelding around. “You'll love it. We live in the Rockies, in a beautiful area. As a kid I always liked waking up in the morning and inhaling the scent of pine coming through my open window.”

The Arabian picked its way along the trail. Sunlight beat down on Cali and she felt a contentment she'd never experienced before. Listening to the birds calling out to one another, the stream gurgling noisily, Cali sighed. “I think that going home with you is going to help me so much. You've become so important to me.”

She spoke the words so softly. They came unbidden, without her thinking first. Was it the prospect of the trip stopping her normal mechanism of holding the secret, personal feelings inside? Cali didn't know. This honesty and intimacy with Pete was so new that it made her feel like she was walking on the thinnest of ice and at any moment could fall through.

“M
Y FAMILY ADORES YOU
,” Pete confided to Cali as they stood thigh-deep in the rushing waters of a wide, cold trout steam. He swung his fly rod back and forth with rhythmic precision. The June day was perfect, the sky a deep blue, the scent of pine wafting in the air.

“They're a pretty great group,” Cali agreed, smiling at him. The clear water, a dark green, swirled slowly around them. She heard the call of a golden eagle circling above. The screech of scolding, noisy blue jays mixed with the babble of the creek created a wonderful symphony to her ears.

“Who's your favorite so far?” Pete teased. He released the reel, and the line went snaking out a good hundred feet in front of him, into a quiet, deep pool of water halfway across the creek.

“That's a tough question. I love all the kids. Jason and Annie have two beautiful children. And I think Kamaria—Kammie—is special. You said she was adopted by your family?”

Nodding, Pete reeled in and began flicking the line back and forth once more. “My parents were out in Los Angeles on business when the big earthquake hit. After they dug out my mother, and she was recuperating at Camp Reed, the U.S. Marine base south of L.A., a Marine team with a dog found Kammie and her dead mother buried under apartment rubble. My mom was helping out by feeding the babies at the hospital. When she saw Kammie, she fell in love with her. As things developed, my father found out Kammie was adopted because she had no other relatives. So they ended up bringing her into our family.”

“What a happy ending to such a tragedy,” Cali said softly. She looked down at the creel they'd brought. Inside the woven wood basket were two nice, fat trout. Pete wanted to cook them for lunch after hiking in the Rocky Mountains. The willow container was half-submerged in the cool water to allow the captured fish to live.

“Kammie is a favorite,” Pete told her, grinning. He began to wriggle the fly at the end of the line once more. Again a pine-scented breeze embraced by him. “And I know everyone likes you.” How could anyone not like Cali? he wondered. His family had warmly embraced her from the beginning. And her PTSD symptoms were already dissolving, just from the outpouring of love they effortlessly bestowed upon her.

Chuckling, Cali said, “Thanks for letting me know.” They'd flown a long haul of connecting flights from Kabul to Seattle, Washington, and then picked up a commuter flight into Anaconda. From there, Annie Trayhern, Jason's wife, had piloted them by helicopter to the small town of Phillipsburg, nestled deep in the Rockies. It was there that the entire Trayhern family had met them. Cali was overwhelmed due to jet lag, and worried that she might not fulfill their expectations. But she shouldn't have been concerned. Blond-haired Laura Trayhern, the matriarch of the family, came forward, threw her arms around Cali's shoulders and hugged her.

“Your family is a lot more open about showing their feelings than mine is,” Cali confided to Pete now.

“Well,” he countered, slowly reeling the line in again, “when you're the only girl with three brothers, I can understand where you're coming from. Men don't tend to be too effusive.” He laughed lightly.

“True,” Cali murmured. “But my mother is very open, a true hugger by nature. I think she's taught all the Roland men to open up a little and show some emotions.”

“And that doesn't hurt,” Pete agreed. “Well, I don't think there's another trout that's going to bite.” He pulled in the line and glanced over at her. “Can you settle for two trout instead of three for lunch?”

“I hate to kill them, Pete.” And Cali opened the creel to show him the gleaming rainbow trout. “Could we let them go? Would it hurt your feelings too much if we ate those peanut butter sandwiches we packed instead? These fish are so beautiful.”

Seeing the look on Cali's face, Pete couldn't help but abide by her wish. “Sure, no problem. But you do like fish, right?”

“I do.” Cali offered him a slight smile and pointed to the trout. “It's just that these two could go back to their home and be free. Maybe because of all the violence during the kidnapping, I just don't want to see anything else killed or trapped.”

Agreeing, Pete put on a glove. If a trout was picked up by hand, bacteria would be transferred and the fish would eventually die even if it was released back to the wild. Gloves prevented this. Pete gently picked up each large trout and eased it back into the cold stream. Both fish promptly zoomed off, hightailing for that deep, quiet pool down below.

After pulling off the glove, he dropped it into the creel. “Okay, let's wade to shore and chow down on our peanut butter sandwiches.”

“Thanks for the reprieve, Pete.”

He saw the warmth in her green eyes. Since they'd arrived home, he'd made no attempt to touch Cali even though he wanted to. Pete had been clear with her that this was a business vacation. In the last week, he'd watched her slowly begin to relax. There had been an amazing change in her demeanor. Cali was more open, laughing easily, joking and rapidly becoming a child in nature.

As they slowly made their way out of the stream, Pete saw her lift her hand toward him. She squeezed his arm. Inhaling her special womanly fragrance, he didn't have time to react. She stepped back, her cheeks flaming.

“What was that for?” His skin tingled where her hand had rested like a butterfly, fleeting and sweetly unexpected, on his jacket.

“Just thanking you for continuing to be a knight in shining armor. You didn't have to release those trout. I know how much catching them meant to you.”

Shrugging, Pete slogged slowly toward the bank beside her. “I don't want to make you unhappy, Cali. You're right, we've seen enough violence. You nearly got killed by the Taliban when they kidnapped you. I understand.”

“Yeah, you respected my request.” She glanced at him.

They reached the pine-needle-covered bank, where colorful red columbine swung lazily in the breeze. “My ego doesn't hinge on whether I keep or eat the two fish I caught.” Pete climbed out of the water then turned and offered Cali his hand. Would she take it? She did, and he hefted her up the incline to his side. Reluctantly, he released her hand. Something magical was occurring between them. He couldn't define it, but honeyed moments like this were sweeter than any he could recall in his life.

“Acts of mercy become you,” Cali murmured. They both shed their hip-high rubber waders and hung them over some low limbs to drip dry. Farther away from the bank they'd opened a dark green wool blanket, and a picnic basket awaited them. Slipping off her no-nonsense brown oxfords, Cali knelt by the wicker basket. Pete joined her and wriggled his toes.

“You have a hole in your right sock,” Cali pointed out as she opened the basket.

“Oh.” Pete pulled up his foot and inspected the black, thick fabric. “So I do.”

“Do you darn your own socks?” Cali asked, handing him a sandwich wrapped in plastic.

“Thanks. Yes, my mom taught me how a long time ago. She said the boys in the family had to know how to take care of themselves, that they shouldn't be relying on a woman to do things like that for them. I'm a pretty good darner. This sock just missed my scrutiny, was all.” Pete chuckled as he opened the sandwich. Cali handed him a bag of corn chips, a plastic container with some of his mother's chocolate cake, plus a can of Pepsi.

Sitting down opposite him, their feet inches apart, Cali hungrily ate her whole-grain bread sandwich. “Your mother and mine are similar,” she confided between bites. Lifting her Dr. Pepper, she took a sip and set it down. “When I came along, Mom saw the boys asking me to do ‘woman's work' for them. That came to a screeching halt in a hurry. She told my brothers they were responsible for themselves. I wasn't.”

“Good for her. Men aren't as helpless as they think they are.” Pete gazed around. They had chosen a small clearing where sunlight poured down like liquid gold between the mighty Douglas firs. With the chirp of chickadees, the piney fragrance in the air, he'd never been happier than right now. And it was all due to Cali. She looked beautiful in her orange tank top, blue jeans and that perennial pink handkerchief around her throat. He'd never seen her as exhilarated as she was now. But given the responsibility and pressure of building that power plant, he'd never seen this relaxed side of her. Taking this vacation had been the smartest thing he'd ever thought of.

After finishing her meal, Cali lay down and rolled over on her stomach, her chin resting on her clasped hands. “I love being here, Pete. It's so peaceful, with the sound of the water, the wind through the pines….” She wanted to add,
You make me happy, and this time has been so healing,
but she stopped the words from leaving her lips.

Munching the last of his salty Frito-Lay's, Pete gazed at her lithe, strong body. How badly he wanted to reach out and caress Cali. The thought lingered, hot and burning. After all his terrible mistakes with women, he found Cali's nearness calling him like a compelling siren he could barely resist. Unsure, Pete said, “I was lucky. I got to grow up here. And—” he pointed toward the stream as he gazed down at her half-opened eyes “—my father taught me trout fishing here when I was seven years old.”

“You were very fortunate,” Cali said. The day was slightly chilly because the Rocky Mountains didn't heat up until late June. The warmth of the sun upon her body, the soft sounds of the creek, all conspired to make Cali feel sleepy. “I'm going to take a nap, Pete.”

“Go ahead,” he urged, reaching over and retrieving the basket. “I'll clean up and then I'm going back to the creek. See if there's any more trout in there that want a good fight with me. I'll catch and release them.”

Since coming home with him, Cali had been sleeping eight hours a night. At the site, she worked eighteen hours a day. Pete was sleeping in late, as well. This was a time to slow down and catch up on a lot of things.

Smiling softly, Cali closed her eyes. How peaceful she felt. The sun was like a warm blanket across her body. The earth felt supportive beneath her belly. Turning her head to one side, she sighed softly and started drifting off to sleep. It wasn't like her to take naps like this, but she was beginning to realize that the trauma of the kidnapping had stressed her out in ways she hadn't fathomed. Grateful that Pete seemed to understand, she drifted in the netherworld of sleep and newfound contentment.

 

“C
ALI IS A LOVELY PERSON
, Pete,” Laura Trayhern confided to her son as they sat at the redwood picnic table, eating freshly roasted ears of corn. The whole family had gathered at Jason and Annie's new home for a barbecue. “And our daily talks over coffee have been helping her, I think. Do you see a difference in her yet?”

Pete glanced to his left and saw Cali at the barbecue with Annie. Together, they were brushing the beef and chicken with a thick, tasty-looking sauce. “I sure do, Mom.”

“How are you two getting along?” Laura asked, buttering more of her corn.

Pete shrugged. “Fine. It's just that, well…” Frustration thrummed through him and he wiped his buttery fingers on a paper napkin. “We only have a week left. I see a lot of positive changes in Cali since we've come home. Now I realize that the kidnapping really stressed her out. More than I ever imagined. I wish we had more time here.”

Around them, Jason and Annie's two children, Alex and Rachel, were running, laughing and playing tag. The other adults were chatting, drinking beer and standing in a loose semicircle around the barbecue.

Laura nodded and kept her tone low. “Time heals all things. And even though you only have two weeks here, it's a good start. I know from my own kidnapping experience that at first you don't realize how traumatized you really are. I'm sure you've seen Cali in many different moods because of it. And I believe she's starting to make those connections within herself. The time here is going to make her more aware, reflect more, and that's not a bad beginning.”

Relief flowed through Pete as he finished off his ear of corn. “I'm glad you understand all of this, Mom, because I didn't know how to approach Cali about it. As a kid I saw you and Dad struggling through it off and on, even when I was young. I felt helpless then, and I feel helpless now.”

Caressing Pete's arm, Laura gave him a sad smile. “We wrestled with our symptoms for nearly fifteen years after they occurred. It was a deep wounding for us. That was a terrible period for our whole family, Pete. I knew it was affecting you, too. And yes, I'm sure you felt helpless. It's an awful thing to see someone you love in pain and you can't ease it for them. All you can do is stand there and watch them suffer.”

“That's exactly how I felt,” Pete admitted. He caught his mother's hand and gave it a squeeze. “Lessons of life, Mom. I'm old enough to look back on that time and understand it now.”

“I'm glad, Pete. I'd like to think that we grew as a family through those trials and tribulations after we were rescued. And it was hard on everyone. No one escaped the pain.” She brightened a little. “But look how it has helped you with Cali. Because of your experience with us, you knew what was happening to her, even though she didn't. You devised a plan to help her. We learn and develop compassion by going through an event and coming out the other side. And you've used your experience well to support her.”