Chapter 16 #2
He was so beautiful to her. She watched with a marveling eye as her fingertips pressed into his muscles, gliding down his tattoos. It was like she did when they first made love.
After ten minutes, she snuggled up behind him, holding him all over again.
He broke the silence with a deep voice, “I’ve never been held like this until you.”
She squeezed harder in an affectionate smile. “You’re cuddly. I could do this all day.”
Caleb felt his heart slowing down and he closed his eyes. A soft smile crossed his lips. “Thank you.”
Evie listened to his breathing. She listened to the depth of his voice.
It was rich like a chamber of masculinity that she could lose herself in, but there was so much exhaustion and fatigue sensed in it.
She inched closer. “You’re welcome. I ordered some delivery for us.
Let’s rest for a little while. When you’re feeling better, we can go to the lake and hike all you want. ”
“I know you hate hiking. I’m sorry.”
“I do,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ll probably complain a little bit about my legs being sore and my feet hurting. And probably the cold and probably the wind. But I’ll try.”
He giggled. “That’s all I can ask for.”
She added, “And I’ll probably get afraid of no bathroom access and minimal cell phone service. And worried that if something happens, we’re gonna be too far from the exit.”
He laughed lowly with his eyes closed. “Wanted to add a case of agoraphobia on top of your claustrophobia as well as your acrophobia and then your misophonia?”
Evie sat straight up. “How do you know about misophonia? Hardly anyone knows about that.”
He rolled onto his back and beamed at her.
“Do you know how many times I’ve seen you complain on Facebook about restaurants having TVs AND music going?
That’s why I offered O’Malley’s. It’s a bit quieter.
Or how much you couldn’t stand when your neighbor’s dog barked?
Or how about the fact that a simple radio playing too loudly overhead at a grocery store will send you flying for the exit? ”
Evie frowned.
He elbowed her leg playfully. “You kinda throw out all your stuff on social media.”
“In my defense, I’ve learned to actually feel comforted by Joshua’s dogs barking.”
He raised a brow at her.
“Okay, I kinda hate it still.”
“More like you hate it sometimes. Your tolerance for things is very dependent on your mood, I’ve noticed.”
Evie frowned again and regretfully said, “When you listed out all of my things, it made me feel like I’m a head case.”
He sighed. “Sudden trauma will do that to you. You’ve been through that a lot.”
Evie looked down at him. Seeing his smile softened her further. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to be normal?”
Caleb sat straight up and pulled her close to him.
With his head rested on hers, he embraced her gingerly.
“Let me tell you something someone told me. And I respect this person a lot.” He paused to look up at the ceiling in reflection.
“They said, ‘but maybe on an emotional or psychological level, we can heal. I think we can. I know we can.’”
He had quoted the very thing she had said to him the night of her anxiety attack when she was massaging his hands.
But it wasn’t as easy as she had thought it to be.
There was no backing out now. After a good, hearty breakfast, she was strapped up and bundled up for a four-mile hike.
How she was going to do it was beyond her.
The moment they arrived at the trail head, she had instant regrets.
Yet Caleb wasn’t going to let her fears pull her away.
He could see it in her eyes that her agoraphobia was strong, and every move she made displayed her disdain and regret.
He closed the truck’s door. “You know, it’s weird to me. You hate excessive noise and chaos, so you avoid going pretty much anywhere these days. But then you get fearful of being alone or trapped where there’s quiet.”
She met him at the front of the truck with her arms crossed. Nervously, she looked down. “I know. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help it.”
He walked back around and got in the back of the truck, messing with something.
Evie looked around and slowly turned to the lake.
The rocks at the water’s edge were white and beautiful, lying in large slats and some boulder shaped.
Off further to the right, the edge disappeared beyond wild, wiry shrubs.
The local heron and Canadian geese were co-mingling without troubles, and the cool breeze kissed her cheeks.
The fog hadn’t let up much. He came back to the front and saw her calm face gazing out at the still water.
“Ready?” he asked.
She turned and saw he had a rucksack on. She chirped, “Nice day for ruckin’, ain’t it?”
“You know it! Come on, pretty. Let’s get you lost in nature and back to your roots again.”
My roots, Evie thought.
Yes. Memories of Alaska. Memories of exploring the woods across from her home in Anchorage as a little girl and staying out until the aurora came shining. Memories of dog sled rides in rural and desolate mountains just for fun.
They began the trail, and Evie stopped at a wooden sign that read, “Great Missouri Birding Trail.”
They continued on the well-paved trail that was immediately swallowed by snow-capped trees and decaying bark from trees that had fallen years ago.
She loved how the fiery hue of the sun’s rays illuminated the snow on them.
Squirrels ran amok every which way, and cardinals called from the canopy above.
A woodpecker went berserk against a tree.
The gray and dead tone of the forest floor was saddening to look at, but glancing up changed everything.
Evie asked casually, “What’s in the sack?”
“Supplies. Food, water, first-aid kit.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she answered with a smile.
“Guns, ammo, grenade launcher, a few Navy SEALs, a tank.”
She busted out laughing. “What? No F-18? I’m disappointed in you.”
He smiled at her and chuckled. He said, “Think about nothing at all. If you focus on the beauty around you and the mission at hand, it’ll go by faster than you think.”
Only in her dreams.
Not even thirty minutes later, she sat down on a mercifully placed bench and Caleb let her rest. He began using his binoculars to look at certain waterfowls that were spotted through the trees and in a little marshland area. The cattails were dried, brown stalks jutting up from the frozen wetlands.
Evie sighed. “I can’t do this.”
Caleb was apathetic. “Alright. You can walk back on your own and wait for me in the truck.”
“What?” she asked. How dare he treat her like that after what she just did for him that morning!
He turned over his shoulder. “Baby, it’s fine. Go ahead and walk back and wait for me in the truck. I’ll be about thirty-five minutes.”
“Walk back…alone?”
“What? Ya afraid of the squirrel gang?”
“N-no, but I can’t walk back alone.”
“Well,” he said, approaching her, “you’ve got two choices. Either finish this with me or go back without me. I’m sorry, but remember what I said? You can’t sit here and fester in your paranoia. At some point, you gotta make a move.”
She grew saddened and downtrodden.
Caleb approached and sat next to her and became serious. “Listen Evie, I’m not gonna baby you. That’s not how I work. Unfortunately, there’s no way to test the waters of embracing and facing your fears without facing them head on.”
“What if I get exhausted and can’t finish? I’m not athletic like you are,” she said in despondency.
“Then I’ll carry you.”
She laughed. “You can’t be-”
She looked at him. He was serious.
He rubbed her back. “It’s up to you. You’re either with me or without. But I’m getting up to go. I want to finish this hike. I love hiking here, so I’m going.”
And he stood up and walked away, leaving her behind.
She lifted her head and watched him walk, getting smaller in size as he made his way up a gentle curving hill.
She looked back to the left where there was emptiness, loneliness, uncertainty.
Then back to the right where he was, so sure of the path and the road ahead.
Let him lead you, she thought.
Evie sprung up and ran after him. “Wait! Caleb, I’m coming with you!”
Caleb smiled. Without turning his head, he stood still and called back to her, “I thought you were gonna stay, kitten.”
“Well, I thought I’d better come along. Just in case you needed protection.”
He nudged her in play. And she did it back.
They ventured off on that long hike. Caleb let her sit and rest when needed, and he would untie his sack to give her water when she thirsted.
It amazed her how he never took a drink, not once.
Instead, he’d use that time to observe the trees, listen to and watch the birds overhead, take pictures, record videos, and enjoy the silence.
Over each old bridge they’d walk, and he noticed that as the time went on, she got a bit more daring with stepping down to the streams to touch the cold water.
To touch the wild waters was precious to her.
Savoring each clear droplet in her palms that reflected the canopy above stirred her childhood up like a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup.
Caleb later helped her step onto a larger log and held her hand as she balanced on it, walking the whole thing.
He’d pull down a branch for her to pick the prettiest pinecone she saw, and he taught her properly how to climb a different tree, even though she was too weak to do it.
That was until he hoisted her up.
Evie clutched the trunk nervously. But she wasn’t that high up.
Her nerves eventually melted into childlike laughter, and she asked him to take a picture of her as she sat upon a sturdy branch.
Throughout the trail, he pointed out certain birds to her and which ones he had hunted before.
While Caleb photographed the birds, he saw the world through God’s eyes.
And she saw the world through his.
Memories had been made.
And fears had been conquered.
Evie painfully walked the last leg of the trail to the truck where she rolled onto the concrete to let her back rest. Her back was burning in aching pain, and she twisted this way and that to stretch her lumbar.
Her upper back begged for an adjustment, and lying on the pavement gave her as much relief as she could get.
The ride back to Laysville was filled with conversation of all sorts, and Evie completely decided to let it go about asking about his Navy job. It no longer mattered.
The rest of the day was filled with Caleb taking her to the hardware store and teaching her about certain things.
He let her pick out paint for her kitchen, and hours were spent tearing down the old wallpaper and putting up that fresh soft and pale green coat of paint.
They sat on the floor against the cabinets together, still enjoying each other’s company over freshly delivered pizza.
And Caleb didn’t care what others thought or what they’d say. He stayed that night.
However, dread and worry forged in Evie’s heart as he slept by her.
Her back was burning with pain. Her muscles ached to a point of breaking her emotional threshold.
She wanted to cry. Her stomach felt heavy and tired.
Her fingers and hands were stiff, and her feet felt like they had been crushed by an anvil.
Her head throbbed. Her body craved comfort and relief.
All her muscles felt like they were bursting through her skin, and her legs ached so badly that she couldn’t keep them still.
She longed to stretch them hard but was too tired to do so.
She had been more physically active in one day than she had been in three months.
Losing nearly eighty-five pounds didn’t mean anything if she wasn’t strong or used to moving so much.
After he stopped talking to her, she had stopped her Zumba and Pilates work and stopped eating as much.
Having a desk job didn’t make it easier.
Her heart was tormented. There was no way in hell she was going to be able to keep up with a man who had two young kids, horses, a lot of yard work to do, and who loved to hike and be active like him.
Evie rolled away from him and cried quietly into her pillow, clutching her teddy bear for comfort.
She wasn’t built for it. She simply wasn’t. No one could help her now. She was in too deep, and there was no way out.