Chapter 7

seven

JACOB

The next morning, I ran along one of the trails surrounding my home. Cold air stung my lungs and made me work hard to keep up with the pace I’d set myself. The trail veered to the left. I jumped a fallen log, ducked under an overhanging branch, and kept going. Even here, far above Sunrise Bay, a deep sense of unease followed me. I kept to the trail, avoided anything that looked out of place, and tried to ignore the panic that came with being on my own in the middle of an unfamiliar forest.

When I reached the highest point on the mountain, I stopped and caught my breath. With my hands on my hips, I looked across the pine and spruce trees to Willow Lake. The early morning sunlight glistened off the water, boding well for the fishing and tourist boats lining the shore.

Perhaps if I’d come home more often, I wouldn’t have PTSD. I might have been able to process what was happening around me differently, found a way to distance myself from the reality of war.

I clenched my fists as a familiar surge of adrenaline shot through my body. Who was I kidding? Most of the people in the camp, including my colleagues, had varying degrees of PTSD. For some, it stopped at the nightmares plaguing their sleep. For others, it impacted everything they did. I sat somewhere in between. It was the “somewhere” that worried me the most.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, focusing on the here and now and not what had happened four years ago.

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t let go of the images crowding my brain. I knew my response was irrational, that what had happened was only the tip of the iceberg in the inhumane camp. But it had broken me in ways I never thought possible.

The day had started better than most. A large convoy of trucks was arriving with desperately needed food and medical supplies. For a camp with no running water or electricity, the supplies were the difference between life and death. As the trucks came through the main gate, they were ambushed by a gang of militants. By the time the army took control of the chaos, fifty-two men, women, and children lay brutally slaughtered on the ground.

The massacre destroyed my faith in humanity. It made me question whether anyone’s life in the refugee camp would ever be better than it was now. And it made me angrier than I’d ever been. Governments around the world could have made the camps healthy, safe communities for the displaced people living there but, for political and economic reasons, they chose not to. It was a disgrace that I couldn’t understand.

The snap of branches sent chills down my spine.

Grabbing a fallen branch, I swung around. With a pounding heart, I waited for what was coming through the trees.

The flash of a bright orange jacket startled me. A few seconds later, Andrew walked out of the forest.

His smile disappeared when he saw the branch in my hands. “I’m hoping you aren’t a crazy psychopath.”

Embarrassment scorched my face. “Sorry. I didn’t know who was there.”

Andrew studied my face but didn’t say anything.

I felt like an idiot. “I don’t always have a bat or branch with me. It’s just…I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“Is it the same when you’re in Afghanistan?”

I wished it was. “It’s worse.”

Andrew bit his bottom lip. “Is that why you’ve come home for Shane and Jonathon’s wedding? To try to make it better?”

I threw the branch into the trees. “I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Shane’s wedding gave me a reason to come back to Sunrise Bay.”

As he stepped closer, Andrew’s eyes were full of confusion. “Why did you need a reason to come home?”

My hands began to shake, so I curled them into fists, hoping he didn’t see what was happening to me. “I haven’t been home for a long time. I didn’t know if I could fit into a normal life again.”

“I guess it depends on your definition of normal.”

I looked away, but all I could see was Andrew’s deep brown eyes, searching my face for answers I couldn’t give him.

His footsteps crunched against the dry leaves and branches littering the forest floor. He stopped beside me, silently staring across Willow Lake.

I looked out of the corner of my eyes at the blue baseball cap holding back his hair, the bright orange jacket, and his faded blue jeans. Even at seven o’clock in the morning, he was the most attractive man I’d ever met. And the fact that he hadn’t left my side made me think that maybe, despite my obvious issues, he liked me too.

He pointed to the far end of Sunrise Bay. “Do you see the spire of the church?”

I nodded.

“Shane and Pastor Adam run a support group for people with PTSD. We have quite a few veterans who visit Sunrise Bay in the summer. Since The Welcome Center opened, a lot of those men and women stay for longer. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that you’re not alone. We’re a small community. We know better than most what it means to live with something that can take over your life.”

“I’ve been to counseling. It didn’t help.”

Andrew smiled. “That’s because you weren’t in Sunrise Bay.”

I doubted that had anything to do with my mental health, but I appreciated his optimism. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“It depends on whether I want to give you an answer.”

Talking to Andrew was like stepping through an emotional minefield. He made me remember what it was like to be human, to like the company of a beautiful, intelligent, frustrating man.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“In Sunrise Bay or standing beside you?”

I almost rolled my eyes. “Standing beside me. To hike this far up the mountain, you’d have had to leave Sunrise Bay at the crack of dawn.”

Andrew’s eyes widened. “Oops. I forgot to tell you we’re neighbors.”

I frowned. “I don’t have neighbors.”

“Have you seen Eleanor Davidson’s home?”

“No one has lived there for years. There was a problem with her estate and…you bought it?”

Andrew nodded. “As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect. I’ve spent two years remodeling the cottage. It turned out even better than I thought it would.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re my neighbor when I saw you yesterday?”

“You were wearing boxers and a T-shirt. It didn’t seem the right time.”

“I’ve worn less and still managed to have an intelligent conversation with a person.”

Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

My mouth almost tilted into a smile.

“It doesn’t hurt, you know.”

I had no idea what Andrew was talking about. “What doesn’t?”

“Smiling. You don’t do it very often.”

“I haven’t had much to smile about.” The gleam in Andrew’s eyes lit something deep in my chest.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. If you want to see what I’ve done to the cottage, you could come home with me.”

I nearly said yes until I remembered I was only here for two weeks. The more time I spent with Andrew, the more tangled in his life I’d become. “Thanks, but I’ll have to see your cottage another time. I want to stain the lower deck on my house before I go back to Kabul.”

If Andrew was surprised, he didn’t show it. “That’s all right. I’d better leave you to enjoy the rest of your run.”

“I’ll see you at Shane and Jonathon’s wedding tomorrow.”

“Sounds great.”

And before I could call myself every fool under the sun, I left.

As I ran through the forest, I tried not to think about what I could have said to Andrew. If Shane or any of my other friends were here, they would have asked him if he wanted to go to the wedding with them. But I hadn’t, and that was a good thing.

Or so I kept telling myself.