“Maybe he already has,” her father told her.
“But then why is he acting like this?”
“Like what?”
She wouldn’t let her embarrassment of confirming what her dad probably guessed—that she and Jack had been sleeping together—get in the way of the telling. “The first time it happened, the thunder woke me up, and I saw him hunched over on the floor like he was trying to shield something—or someone—with his body and he kept yelling ‘IED.’”
He father waited for her to continue.
“Last night, a huge crack of thunder woke me, but I couldn’t breathe. He was lying on top of me, trying to shield me, but I couldn’t get him to listen—he was trapped in whatever nightmare he goes into.”
“How did you get him to wake up?”
“I had to knee him.”
“I see. And when he finally woke up, what happened?”
“I tried to get him to talk to me, but he wouldn’t. He just walked away.”
“So you just left him?”
“I kept waiting for him to come back upstairs, but after a while, I knew he wasn’t going to. He was asleep on the deck, wrapped in a blanket. I didn’t want to wake him…so I left.”
“You think he did that so he wouldn’t take the chance of hurting you?”
“Yeah,” she rasped. “Pop, I love him…what am I going to do?”
“Let me think on it.”
She blew her nose again and cleared the table. “What if we can’t help him?”
“Jack’s a smart man, Cait,” he said. “He may already be in treatment. Did you think of that?”
“No.” She hadn’t. “Then why—”
“I had a buddy who suffered from PTSD,” he told her. “He could go for months at a time without suffering and then something would set him off and he would have an episode.”
“What did he do?”
“He kept seeing his doctor and tried to analyze the warning signs to keep on top of things and prevent a full-blown episode.”
“And it worked?”
“Most of the time,” he said. “It may take years, and it might never fully go away, but my friend learned to live with it and control it. I might have a way to help Jack come to terms with the fact that his condition is controllable to a point. Why don’t you let me tell Gracie to reschedule your day?”
“I’m fine, Pop. I’ll be better if I’m busy.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, pulling her in for a bear hug.
When she’d gone for the day, Joe got on the phone. “Jerry, it’s me, Joe—I need your help.”
***
Jack woke cold and alone. Stiff from falling asleep in a chair on the deck, he stretched to loosen the knots in his spine and bad leg. “Brilliant, Gannon,” he grumbled, limping inside. Wondering if Cait was still sleeping, he walked inside and listened.
“Too quiet.” He missed the scrambling of puppy feet as Jamie ran into the kitchen or bounded up the stairs. He’d get used to it, but it might take some time.
“Cait?”
When she didn’t answer, he called again. Unease slithered through his gut, as he took the stairs two at a time only to find his bed empty and Caitlin long gone.
He stared at the rumpled bed and a flash of the woman he’d turned inside out and backward with their lovemaking filled his heart and his head. “You’re too stupid to deserve a woman like her.”
A glance at the clock told him it was time to get cleaned up for work. The hot water eased the tension from his back, but not his leg. It was going to be a long day. He couldn’t decide if he should go to the office early or track Cait down at her house.
He sent her a text, but she didn’t answer it. “Big surprise.” He’d had his chance and he flubbed it, but he wasn’t going to give up on her. She promised she’d stick. He was going to hold her to that promise.
He might have to learn to live without his best furry friend, but he’d be damned if he’d live without Caitlin. Taking a chance, he called the Mulcahys’ house.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Joe. It’s Jack, can I talk to Cait?”
“She’s at the shop. Did you call her cell?”
“I texted her, but she didn’t answer me.”
“What time’s your first appointment?” Joe asked.
“In about an hour. Why?”
“Stop by the house,” Joe told him. “I’d like to talk to you.”
How could Jack say no? “Be there in a few.”
Pulling up into the driveway of the Mulcahys’ house felt weird, knowing that Cait wasn’t there and that he was about to have a face-to-face conversation with her father—had she talked to her dad about last night?