“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?” She’d come into his life, and everything had changed.
“What do you think?”
“Ihateit when you do that.” He took a breath, tried not to get pissed off. “I think I’m in love with her, and it scares the shit out of me. So how could I be feeling safe?”
This made Esri smile. “You’re talking about two different things. For you to love her, I would think you trust her.”
“Okay. Sure.”
“Trust can make a person feel safe, especially if they come from a background of abuse, like you do. As for love—that can come with feelings of vulnerability. We’re suddenly in a place where we can be hurt by another person.”
But that’s not what scared Jesse. “I’m not afraid for myself. I don’t want to hurt her—or the kids.”
Esri nodded. “Have you ever hit or shoved or threatened a woman?”
“No.”
“How about a child or an animal?”
“God, no.” He saw where she was going with this. “Some part of me is afraid that I’ll be like my dad, that he’s hiding inside me somewhere, that I’ll settle down with someone I love—and then destroy everything.”
“The fact that you haven’t demonstrated abusive behavior is a good indicator that you won’t head down that path in the future. We can talk about that more at our next session.”
He glanced at the clock, surprised to see that fifty minutes had gone by already.
“Jesse, I’m going to suggest something. Why don’t we schedule a regular, weekly appointment rather than doing this ad hoc crisis-management thing? That way, you’ll know you’re going to see me, and we can focus on treating your PTSD.”
“Okay.”
“Read through these when you get a chance.” She gave him a couple of flyers about PTSD, then made an appointment with him for Wednesday morning.
“I can’t believe you’re still not charging me.”
“Karma.” She turned out her office light. “You save people, remember?”
* * *
The next twoweeks passed quickly, Ellie busy with the twins, work, and the final details for the first-aid tent. One of her volunteers—a firefighter—came down with mono, so she’d had to replace her. She’d also tracked down phone numbers—the names and numbers of the staff members in charge of delivering the supplies, as well as the contact information for the person with the Town of Scarlet who oversaw hooking up the tent with electricity. She didn’t want to get stuck at seven in the morning in the freezing cold with a problem she couldn’t solve and no idea whom to contact.
But although her days were busy, she couldn’t stop worrying about Jesse. He seemed to be okay. He wasn’t drinking as far as she could tell—and she had a pretty good nose for that sort of thing. He came over almost every evening, sometimes early enough to play with the kids before bedtime. One night, he’d brought his lasagna, which had been every bit as delicious as he’d said it would be.
Their sex life had gotten even better—if such a thing were possible. He knew how to make her scream, how to make her come fast and hard, or how to draw it out until she thought the pleasure would kill her. But he never slept with her. When it was over, he would hold her for a while, then kiss her goodbye, and leave her to sleep alone. There was a barrier between them now, and Ellie couldn’t seem to breach it.
I don’t think we should make this relationship out to be more than it is.
He’d said it that terrible night when he’d had the flashback. For whatever reason, he still seemed to believe that keeping his distance was better for her. She hadn’t brought it up—not yet. She wanted to give him time, give him a chance to sort through all of this himself. He was seeing Esri, which was good.
Still, she couldn’t let this go on forever. She loved him. Somehow, she’d fallen in love with Jesse Moretti, and there was nothing he could do about that.
* * *
The Friday morning of SnowFest, Ellie got up at five just like she would on any regular work day. She showered and dressed in layers—polypro long underwear and turtleneck under her blue scrub pants and snowflake scrub shirt. Then she bundled the kids up and dropped them off at her parents’ house and drove the short distance to the SnowFest grounds.
The sun hadn’t yet risen, but Ellie could see that Scarlet Springs had been transformed. First and Second streets were lined with booths and stalls. Merchants, artists, and restaurateurs from Scarlet Springs, Boulder, and the surrounding mountain towns bustled about, getting ready to sell their wares to the thousands of people who flocked to Scarlet for the festival. Stalls and tents adorned with white fairy lights stretched all the way to the reservoir, electric lanterns that looked like old-fashioned miners’ lights hanging above the walkways. Crews had plowed the snow away and laid wooden walkways to keep people dry and minimize the mud. Trucks stood on the periphery of the event like circled wagons, people pushing dollies up and down their ramps, working in the darkness and frigid cold to be ready for the public by eight.
Ellie parked and walked through the cold in search of the first-aid tent. Thank goodness she’d dressed warmly because it was freakingcold. She found the tent standing close to the reservoir where the polar bear plunge would take place. That made sense, given that some of her first patients would inevitably come from that event. The fire department had already cut a hole in the ice, marking it with tape and orange cones so that no one would fall in.
Larger than the other tents, the first-aid tent was made of heavy, insulated green fabric, a white cross on both sides, a banner running across the top that said “FIRST AID” in big white letters. Ellie opened the flap to find the tent cold and dark. A row of light bulbs hung from the ceiling. She reached up and tugged on a pull chain, and light filled the space. She might not have heat yet, but at least she could see.