Hunted, page 27
“Keep your promise,” he muttered as he slowed the treadmill down to a walk.
Before they’d left, Beth had made him swear he’d focus on himself and not her. “It’s the only way I can do this, if I know you’re safe.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do,” he told her.
As much as he wanted to run to her now, to hold her and keep her safe and never let go at all, he knew that the best shot the two of them had at a future together, let alone apart, lay in their mutual success fighting their particular demons. So as hard as it was, he had to put Beth to the back of his mind again, or at least a few steps away from the front, for the time being.
He had to have faith in her family to do the right thing for her, faith in her counselors, faith in Beth herself. There was no alternative. He couldn’t fix this for her. He couldn’t carry this weight in her place, and there was nothing he could have done in the past to prevent her from having to carry it in the first place.
Further, the past didn’t matter so much as the future, and that was where he intended to focus most of his energy. Not all, but enough that he didn’t get bogged down in the what-ifs game. Beth deserved better, and he was starting to understand that he did too.
Chapter 51
By Sunday morning, the dawn of her fourth day in Santa Fe, Beth was getting a feel for how rehab was going to work—or at least how the program worked as a unit. A lot was expected, but at the same time, there was no judgment passed if she didn’t keep up with the class, so to speak. What mattered to her counselors and therapists was that she was trying, not that she met exact goals straight out of the gate.
Knowing that she could fail miserably at an activity and still be considered a success took a tremendous amount of pressure off of her.
“As you advance in the program, you’ll have more concrete goals,” her primary counselor, Joan, had said the night they’d arrived. “But for right now, especially since you’re joining us midweek and you’re still in physical recovery from your injuries, let’s take it easy and hit things with a bit more punch next week.”
“All right. I think I can handle that.”
Something else Joan had told her during the intake, while she was speaking to Beth privately, had her nearly in tears.
“We’ve seen every reaction to grief and trauma and stress that you can imagine, and we don’t consider any emotion off-limits. We can work through most anything. Often when we’re surrounded by our loved ones, friends, colleagues, we have to hold that deep emotion in check, and that becomes a pressure cooker without a valve. One of our goals here is to give you a place where you can open up, express everything you’re feeling and get it off your chest, then deal with what’s left. How does that sound?”
“Like something I needed weeks ago. Sign me up.”
She’d said a somewhat eager goodbye to her parents, liberated by the idea that she could safely fall apart and her emotions and reactions wouldn’t be held against her.
Each night, she’d fallen into bed exhausted by the day’s activities. But she’d had a couple of nights when she’d actually slept for more than a few hours, not waking up until the alarm clock went off. That had been heavenly. That wasn’t to say her time thus far had been easy; nothing could have been further from the truth. But she finally felt as though she’d found a place where she could fully be the person the shooting had turned her into, and her stress was starting to settle down to manageable levels.
Today was family day. She’d be seeing her parents for the first time since Wednesday night, and she was nervous. While her mother’s resistance to the idea of her staying in New Mexico wouldn’t make her change her mind, it’d be nice to have Jackie’s true support.
The restrictions on contact with the outside world weren’t so tight here, especially for Beth, as they were at the facility where Ethan was. She’d have the ability to send and receive letters on a daily basis starting today, and e-mail privileges would be “unlocked” later in the week. As she’d expected that to be the case, she’d brought plenty of notepads, pens, and stamped envelopes. She’d also picked up a huge stack of postcards in the airport when they landed.
She’d already written Ethan a couple of short letters that she’d put in one envelope, as well as postcards for her siblings. This time, she hadn’t tried to be overly optimistic, something Ethan had chastised her about Wednesday.
“I want the truth always, even if it hurts. Don’t try to protect me, blondie.”
She’d reluctantly agreed to be more forthcoming. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“I know that, but you aren’t responsible for my feelings. I am. I’ll worry more if things are too cheerful.”
Beth made a face at him. “Fine, you want a sourpuss correspondent, you’ll get one.” That sassiness had won her a kiss.
She knew she had a long battle ahead, and she was trying to keep it in perspective so that it didn’t become overwhelming. Having seen Ethan, the progress he was making, helped in that regard. Even though he had never been a falling-down drunk, the difference sobriety was making in him in just a few short weeks was astounding. She could tell a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and Chase had even remarked on it as they’d waited for the flight at the airport.
“I’ve never seen him so at peace,” he’d said. “I didn’t realize he was struggling so hard to keep his head up. He asked me if I’d come back and see him, maybe come to a couple of the family-and-friends sessions they like to set up for the patients as they get further into recovery.”
Beth squeezed his arm. “You said yes, right?”
Her brother ruffled her hair. “What do you think? He’s my best friend. I won’t turn my back on him. Hell, he’s probably going to be my brother-in-law at some point, so I think I’m kind of stuck somewhere between family and friend anyhow.” He grinned when she blushed.
“You never know,” she told him tartly, though she was smiling. “I hope this works out for both of us. For all of us.”
“I think it will.”
One of the questions Beth hadn’t asked when she’d gone through intake was how long she’d be there. Joan had preempted her question by telling her that the basic program was four weeks—though it varied from patient to patient—and they’d adjust it from there depending on her needs.
Beth had some concerns about ever wanting to go back to Leroy, if she was honest. Those she pushed to the back of her mind.
“I’ll deal with that down the road, not now,” she said as she hurried to sunrise yoga.
The idea of leaving was daunting and one Beth wasn’t willing to even contemplate at the moment. She didn’t want to go home. She was exactly where she wanted—and needed—to be, and she wasn’t going to let anyone tell her otherwise.
Chapter 52
“What a difference a couple hundred miles makes, huh?” Ethan said as he got out of Chase’s car. What had started as a warm, sunny morning in Nashville was turning into a rainy, cold afternoon in Leroy.
“We could always head back south.” Chase groaned as he got out and went to the trunk for Ethan’s bags.
He’d driven down the night before for a friends-and-family group session. After Ethan had gone through the completion ceremony that morning, they’d hit the road. It was Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and Ethan was seeing home for the first time in over seven weeks.
Chase gestured toward the house as Ethan joined him at the rear of the car. “She’s still standing. How does it look?”
“Strange, truthfully. Familiar, and somehow it’s different. Let’s head in. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Chase had volunteered to help him purge the house of all the alcohol.
“I wouldn’t have signed up if I didn’t want to help.”
Walking inside, seeing everything mostly as he’d left it, was eerie. The life he’d left weeks ago and the life he was coming back to now, they felt like mirror images. Ethan wasn’t sure which side of the glass he was even supposed to be on.
“Mom and James came over a few times to check on the place for me, let the truck run for a bit, that kind of thing. I’ll bet she was here earlier this week cleaning. There’s no dust.” He ran his finger along the top of the TV. “This is so bizarre.”
“I can imagine,” Chase said.
Knowing his friend had better things to do than babysit, Ethan shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the couch. “Let’s get this over with.”
Thirty minutes later, they were standing on the front porch, both of them grim. Ethan was gripping the porch rail, nonplussed by what they’d found inside.
“I didn’t realize it was that bad. I guess I’d blocked it,” he said in a low voice.
The sheer number of bottles—empty, full, half-full—they’d found and disposed of was staggering.
“What about in the truck, the outbuildings? Did you stash any there?” Chase asked.
Ethan shook his head. “No to the truck. I’d never risk that. There might be a few things in the shed though.”
“Want me to go see?”
God, that was tempting, the idea of letting Chase handle the disposal for him. “Thank you, but no. That’s on me to do.”
“Then let’s do it. You have an appointment we can’t miss with Sharon Jenkins in about an hour, and we need to get a grocery list pulled together so you have something to eat in the house that meets with the program.” Part of the inpatient treatment had been learning about the important role nutrition played in recovery.
“Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this,” Ethan said as they headed for the shed behind the house.
“It’s more fun than watching paint dry but not as fun as watching grass grow,” came the sardonic retort.
Something else Chase had volunteered for was to be Ethan’s sobriety coach. He’d been down to Nashville a couple of times since the day he’d brought Beth, including this past Sunday for an intensive family therapy day, and he’d met with Sharon a few times locally so that he knew what to expect, what to do to help Ethan through the first crucial weeks and months.
“Has anything improved with Lina, or is she still being—as my sister puts it—a cow?” Chase asked as Ethan unlocked the shed.
“She’s practically mooing these days,” Ethan told him dryly. Lina was his stepsister, James’s daughter from his first marriage. She was a few years younger than Ethan, and she had never forgiven him for replacing her as the oldest child in the family. No one but no one held a grudge like Lina. “She’s constitutionally incapable of letting anything go, and she’s already declared that my bothersome little ‘habits’ aren’t going to interfere with her Thanksgiving.”
They exchanged a put-upon look, and Chase snorted. “You know if you need to bail, you’re welcome at the farm. Mom will have dinner ready at three.”
As he grabbed a garbage bag, Ethan sighed. “I know. I have the feeling I’ll be taking you up on that offer.”
The following afternoon found him doing just that. Though his parents and baby sister, Allison, had been welcoming, Lina had sniped at him from the moment he walked in. Halfway through the meal, after snide comments about Beth being a princess who needed saving if she stubbed her toe—a remark that had him ready to dive across the turkey to strangle her—he gave up trying to be polite.
Disgusted, he put his napkin on the table and stood. “This isn’t where I need to be right now. Mom, James, I’ll catch you two later. Allie.”
As he started to walk away, Lina laughed. “What’s the matter, buckaroo? Don’t you like hearing the truth about your little girlfriend?”
Deciding the dinner was probably a lost cause and he was tired of being her punching bag out of an effort to keep the peace, he squared his shoulders and faced her. “You know, Lina”—he kept his tone conversational—“I’m an alcoholic. I can be an asshole, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But I’m working on changing that.
“You, on the other hand, take joy in being a vindictive, spiteful, miserable excuse for a human being, and you have since the first day I met you. I feel sorry for you. One of these days, you should think about growing up and stop acting like a hormonally challenged teenager who didn’t get her way and is hell-bent determined to make everyone around her pay for that. You have a good day now.”
He ignored her indignant screech and got his coat from the hall.
Stella hurried after him. “Please don’t go, sweetheart. You know how she gets around the holidays.”
Ethan kissed her cheek, exasperated. “I do know, and I’m not willing to put up with it anymore. I’m not in a place where I’m ready to handle her. Letting her get away with that, it doesn’t do anyone any good. Maybe if I leave, she’ll shut the hell up and the rest of you can have a good day. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
He gave her a brief hug, then left despite her protests. He didn’t hold his breath that things would improve much after he’d gone either.
He knew he couldn’t completely avoid conflict in his life. He also knew walking away from Lina in the middle of the argument wasn’t exactly the adult thing to do. But he wasn’t about to take her shit anymore. That was part of what he and his parents had discussed in family therapy.
Lina was passive-aggressive and slightly narcissistic. Being around her for any period of time was unpleasant. If she’d been a man, he’d simply have beat the shit out of her while they were growing up and ignored her going forward. Since that hadn’t been an option, he’d always dealt with her most egregious outbursts—which seemed designed to jab him exactly where it hurt the most—by letting his temper build and hitting a bottle as soon as he could to blow off steam. No more. He wasn’t willing to risk his sobriety for a stepsister who wouldn’t do so little as to turn on a water hose if he were on fire.
He stopped by his house briefly to check e-mail, disappointed to see nothing new in his inbox from Beth, then sucked up his pride and headed to the Hudsons’. He’d be an hour or so early, but he expected that he’d be welcome enough.
Chase had told him they were all discombobulated at the idea of not having Beth there for the holiday. Ethan could understand that well. Though they weren’t without a few bumps of their own, the Hudsons were a tight-knit family, and she was sorely missed.
However, she was doing well in Santa Fe. She’d moved out of the facility into a local bed-and-breakfast as a temporary gig to see how she did in the outside world on her own. She was still attending intensive sessions as an outpatient, but so far, she seemed to be doing well. She was e-mailing him almost every day in addition to the handwritten, more private letters she’d been sending. He expected a handful of those to arrive tomorrow with the mail, which the post office in town had been holding during his absence. He could hardly wait to get them.
“I don’t have to send those, you know,” she said when they’d talked briefly last Sunday. “If you don’t want me to, I mean. If they’re too much.”
“Are you kidding me? I live for those letters. It’s a physical connection to you, however tenuous. I’ll take whatever crumbs I can get at this point.”
He’d checked with her three times late last week to make sure she knew to send the letters to his house, not to rehab, so he wouldn’t miss a single one.
Missing her was like a physical ache, one he’d learned to live with but was ready to discard at the first opportunity, much like a cast on a broken arm. He could tell from reading her missives that she was better, much more like herself, though not as innocent. But she was improving, and soon she’d be able to come home.
“I’m starting to miss that place. When I came here, I never thought I’d be able to say that,” she’d confessed to him Sunday. “But I think I might be booking a flight home soon. I hope so anyhow.”
So did Ethan. He was scheduled to go in tomorrow and meet with Wyatt, who was filling in for some of the deputies over Thanksgiving. He and Stacy had been handling investigations during Ethan’s absence, and he needed to get back to work as soon as possible to relieve some of that burden. Otherwise, he’d have been on a plane heading west.
His phone beeped as he parked beside Chase’s car in front of Richard and Jackie’s garage. He laughed when he saw that it was Chase texting to check on him. “Talk about timing.”
I just arrived at your folks’ place. Do you have the pumpkin pie ready?
A few seconds later, the front door opened, and Chase came out on the porch to meet him, grinning. “I knew you’d miss us too much to stay away. I hope you’re ready to mash some potatoes. Was it bad?”
Ethan stopped at the bottom of the porch steps and snorted. “It wasn’t pleasant.”
Chase clapped him on the shoulder and held the door open for Ethan to precede him inside. “I’m sorry, man. Come on in. We have something in here that I think might cheer you up. Joely brought a friend with her from Louisville this morning, and the two of them have been hamming it up since they got here. They’ve had us all in stitches.”
It wasn’t until Beth stepped around the kitchen doorway that Ethan made sense of the words. Still, he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“Surprise,” she said softly, smiling at him, her hands clasped in front of her.
Caught taking off his shoes, his hand braced on the short wall that separated the entry from the living room to keep his balance, he froze. “You… what?”
Chase, the beast, was grinning like a fool as Beth slowly approached. “Happy Thanksgiving, man. I’ll leave you two alone.” He ruffled her hair as he passed.
Ethan let his second shoe drop, then slowly straightened, trying to catch his breath from the shock. “You’re home.”
