Chapter Twenty-Five
Buried Memories
Willow
A nagging feeling that she was being watched persisted. It wasn’t all the time, but it was enough that it unnerved her. This morning, she unlocked the front door and stepped outside with the dogs at her heels. A persistent pressure at the base of her skull nagged at her.
At first, she blamed it on being paranoid. She was tired; everyone felt watched sometimes. But the feeling had a life of its own. It pooled along her shoulders and crawled down her arms. When she moved, it moved with her.
She checked the surrounding area and paid attention to the dogs, but they were only interested in doing their morning business.
“You want a cup of coffee?” Dale asked suddenly from behind her.
She jumped and spun. “Sorry, you startled me,” she said, her hand going over her heart.
Dale gave her a quizzical look but didn’t ask questions.
“Yes, I’ll take a cup,” she replied.
He walked away, and she looked into the distance again. That strange feeling didn't shift. If anything, it heightened, but as she continued to scan the distance, she found only stillness.
Or at least she did until the dogs came running back ready for their breakfast.
“Your wish is my command,” she told them and headed for the garage.
After filling the two large metal bowls, she checked their outside water, found they had plenty, and headed back to the house for the much-needed coffee.
She and Dale sat in their favorite outdoor chairs and enjoyed the slight breeze before the heat rose.
“How did you sleep?” Dale asked.
“Good. I feel tired though. How about you?”
“The same as usual. If I didn’t need a bathroom run at 2:00 a.m., I would sleep straight through. Can I give you some advice?”
That surprised her. “Sure,” she said.
“Stop growing older. It sucks.”
Willow laughed. “Now you’re wishing me an early death?”
“No,” he said and grinned. “I figure if you stop celebrating birthdays, you can stay young. I should have tried it years ago, but now it’s too late for me.”
“What has you in such a silly mood?” she asked after releasing a short bark of laughter.
“Grouchy not silly. If it gets too bad, put me in a home.”
“But you’ve always been grouchy so how will I know?”
“Brat,” Dale muttered which made Willow laugh again.
“You want to help me in the garden today?” Willow asked. “I need to prune and dig up a few areas.”
“Unless you really need my help, I want to change Lucy’s oil and give her a tune up.”
Lucy was the name her grandmother gave to the 1975 Ford truck Willow drove. It was a classic, and she might have loved it as much as Joan had. Dale didn’t take the truck to the repair shop like he did his own new Ford. He liked getting his hands greasy and babying Lucy.
“You work on the truck and I’ll handle the garden. When I’m done, I’ll make sandwiches for an early lunch. I’m going to grab a banana. Do you want one?”
“What happened to the days when a man needed a full breakfast to start his day?” Dale grumbled.
“His blood pressure went up along with his cholesterol and bananas are good for him.”
“Then I guess I’ll take the blasted banana,” he complained good-naturedly. “And don’t forget our meeting this afternoon.
“Meeting?” she questioned.
“Where I teach you self-defense and you learn to kick some serious butt.”
She smiled. “I’ll be there, don’t be late.”
Dale had been teaching her self-defense since Lance Hogg kidnapped her. Their hope was they would both teach women who came to stay on the ranch if that ever happened. Willow loved learning everything Dale taught her.
She grabbed two bananas from the kitchen, handed Dale his, and headed to the greenhouse with Max by her side. Daisy usually stayed close to Dale or wandered between the two of them.
Willow trimmed back the tomatoes and pepper plants in hopes the vegetables would ripen before the temperature dropped. It was turning into an excellent harvest.
Lunch was sandwiches filled with every vegetable Willow had on hand along with thin slices of seasoned tofu she passed off as lunchmeat. Dale ate his without complaint. They went their separate ways while their food settled, and Dale came to the barn to start training.
They grabbed the practice mats and set them up.
First, they went through the previous scenarios they’d practiced.
Dale grabbed her around the neck from behind, and Willow broke the hold, then caused damage by striking his Adam’s apple, nose, and lastly a knee to his head.
It was done in slow motion the first time, and then they picked up speed.
“You’re setting these in muscle memory and getting better each time we spar,” he praised.
Willow’s confidence had improved as weeks passed and her body flowed naturally through the strikes. She could break a neck bar hold coming from behind, a strangulation hold from the front, and several more.
After reviewing what she knew, Dale moved on.
“This one is when your back is on the ground, he straddles you and goes for your throat. Lay on your back.”
Willow got into position. Dale straddled her waist, but before he could place his hands at her throat, she cried out and began kicking and swinging. Dale took a nasty kick to his left shoulder as he rolled off her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried. She curled into a ball and breathed heavily.
Dale backed away, giving her room. “You’re safe,” he said in a calming voice. “I’m over here and I won’t come closer until you’re ready.”
Tremors racked her body and she wouldn’t look at him.
They’d closed the barn door. Max whined and growled from the other side.
Dale walked over and allowed the two dogs to enter.
Willow threw her arms around Max when he was close enough.
He licked her face until she sat up and wiped off the slobber.
She gazed at Dale sheepishly. “I don’t know what happened.” Her voice was stricken.
Dale moved a few feet closer and sat down facing her. Max growled.
“No worries boy,” he comforted in a low voice.
“Max, no,” Willow said in astonishment.
“He knows something is wrong and he’s protecting you.” Daisy let out a bark unsure of what was happening. “Come here, girl, and sit with me.”
Daisy plopped on his lap and gave his chin a quick lick.
“Seriously Dale, I don’t understand why I reacted that way.”
The look on Dale’s face shocked her. “What?” she asked.
“Did your father ever do that?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Did he do it to your mother?”
Again, she shook her head. “Wouldn’t I remember if he had?”
“Maybe, but it could also be buried. I’m not a psychologist, so I’m unsure.”
She covered her eyes with her hands for a moment before looking up again. “I saw so many psychologists in prison. It was required as part of my sentencing because I was so young.” She took a deep breath. “I hated them digging around in my head.”
“I understand,” Dale said. “Cops aren’t too fond of head doctors either. It takes away our tough-guy image.” He rubbed his shoulder.
“Did I hurt you?” Willow asked in horror.
“As we progress in your training, we’re both bound to have bruises. It’s nothing to worry about.”
She continued petting Max until he slumped down beside her and finally relaxed.
“I feel so stupid,” she said. “Should we try it again?” An internal shudder ran through her. She wasn’t sure she could do it again.
Dale searched her gaze. “Let’s work on the next move I planned to show you and we’ll come back to this one another time.”
She let out a slow breath of air, feeling her panic recede even more.
Dale kept the remainder of the workout light, teasing her and reminiscing about bar fights and other stories from his time as a deputy.
He rarely discussed the good times he had in his job, and even though she knew he was doing everything in his power to change the tone of the workout, she appreciated it.
When she fell asleep that night, the feeling of being watched returned.
It didn’t matter that she was in the house and there was no way anyone was inside, the skin on the back of her neck danced with what felt like electrical current.
Then her mind repeated what happened earlier when Dale placed his hands at her throat.
Her nightmares returned in full force.