Mary's Men (18 page)

“Damn,” Paul muttered.

“Don’t worry, I remembered both of your wallets. I grabbed my purse too.”

Paul kissed her forehead. “You’re our rock, and if anyone can get us through this, it’s you.”

* * * *

Mary settled her head on the railing of Duane’s bed and watched him sleep. The doctor assured her they would get him on medication and in therapy groups. He’d been reassuring, kind, and more positive than she would have expected considering the gravity of the situation.

“You got him in early,” he said. “Some guys go months letting this stuff build and when it erupts… I’m glad you got him here when you did.”

She wished she could do more, but his wrists were well wrapped and he seemed calmed. He didn’t need her, she didn’t know how to help with a broken mind, so she sat.

Paul and Thomas stretched out in the room’s chairs. They’d changed their plans for the day to stay at Duane’s side. The other Paraby had a long road ahead, and Mary loved that the cousins stayed. They’d do what they could to help.

The nurse stepped in, another person with military training. The lockdown facility sported few comforts and the staff, though trained and efficient, didn’t offer any of the softness she wanted for him. She eased back, giving the nurse room. The fear of the night before still fresh, she held onto the practical side of the facility. Duane was safe here until he could be safe in his own mind.

“Time for medication,” the nurse said, her no-nonsense tone unlike the sweet, gentle nursing staff Mary had seen at regular hospitals.

Duane’s eyes popped open, the lines of his face pulled tight, scowl fierce. “I don’t like the pills. They make me fuzzy.”

“Until you have other ways to cope with your rage and depression, fuzzy will keep you from trying to kill yourself.”

Mary fought a gasp. She had to be sensible, but the matter-of-fact reply hit her soul. Duane was new in her life, but part of her already loved him. Protective instincts roared to protect him from the harshness surrounding him, even from within.

Duane’s jaw tightened as he extended his hand for the pills. He threw them in his mouth and accepted the glass of water. The nurse kept her place, not saying a word. Mary looked back and forth between them as tension grew. Tears burned her nose as she prayed he wouldn’t make another scene. A moment later he opened his mouth for inspection.

“You have therapy later today,” the nurse said. “After the doctors have talked more with you they’ll make changes to your medication.”

Planning and looking toward the next thing would help them all through the journey. The nurse stepped out, closing the door behind her.

“Tell the guys to get you the fuck out of here,” he growled.

“No.”

He glared at the wall. “I don’t want you here. Hell, I don’t want to be here.”

“I’m so glad you are,” she replied. “I know this isn’t…ideal, but I’m grateful for the nurses and doctors. They’ll help.”

His strained laugh held no pleasure. “Help with what? I’m a doctor. I know what happens to the brain when it’s seen too much. It starts to shut down. I’m shutting down.”

“No you’re not.”

“How the fuck would you know? Keeping me drugged to the gills until I learn to cry is experimental bullshit. Bullshit I don’t need.”

“Well, you need something, don’t you? How about instead of being snarky you focus that energy on getting better so you can come home and get a job using all that doctor know-how you have?”

He finally looked her way. His narrowed eyes, dark smirk, and sneer might have drove her away if she wasn’t so invested. She scowled back. Being sweet didn’t get through, didn’t get a reaction so she’d followed the nurse’s tactic, being practical instead. She really wanted to make him a sandwich and feed him until the gaunt left his face, but tough love would see them through the day. She hoped.

“You don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t,” she snapped. “How could I possibly when you haven’t said a word about what’s going on in your head? You just assume you can’t talk to me. I know we’re new together, but we’ve been sending letters for months. Talk to me. I might never understand, but I will listen, hold your hand, and I’ll make you brownies. It’s not going to do the things the doctors can, but I will absolutely do my part if you let me.”

“If I’m really broken, then what?” His gaze shot to the chairs where the twins continued snoring. “What if I’m perpetually suicidal for the rest of my life? You’re going to see I’m not the same in life as I am on paper. I’m opinionated and I’m usually right. That tends to piss people off.”

His fears put to words eased some of hers. He didn’t shy away because he didn’t care, he did it because he didn’t want her hurt. She’d already developed respect for the young man who’d enlisted in the Air Force and stayed in his full four years, mostly deployed to hell, but Duane in real life inspired her. He might feel cracked, might even be broken, but he was still hers.

“We’re going to take this one day at a time. The Parabys are my family, and I need you guys to love me as much as I need someone to love and care for. Besides, I’m always up for a good argument. You’ll find out soon enough that as far as ‘right’ goes, I’m usually on top.”

The anger faded in his eyes, easing the deep etched lines around them. She wasn’t sure if emotionally he’d gained more control or if the pills had taken charge. Either way he appeared calmer, and she hoped he would be able to focus on the afternoon ahead. If he would let her, she’d be at his side the whole way.

He squeezed her hand before turning toward the window. She thought he might say something, but when he remained quiet, she didn’t mind. They would have time to talk. At least she knew he was listening and thinking.

Chapter 19

Paul carried the basket through the tiny creamery aisles and grabbed a box of cereal. Mary sighed beside him, so he tossed it in without reading the back. He could do it over breakfast in the morning. She grabbed items quickly, obviously ill at ease being back in Morris. She’d wanted to go grocery shopping in Fort Harrison the day before, but Duane had a meltdown and she’d been upset, so he’d driven home without stopping. Going into Morris was a last resort.

The last few days at the hospital had given her anonymity and she’d flourished. Her confidence showed when she spoke to doctors, nurses, and to Duane. Now, back in the town they’d make their life in, she twitched.

The owner stepped out of the back room, a white apron over her pink polo shirt. “Well, hey there, Paul. How’s the ranch?”

“Good enough,” he replied, though he was really scrambling with the ranch and land closing, all while trying to support Mary. “How are things in town?”

Mary continued shopping, not making eye contact with the nice lady who’d owned the creamery for a decade. He didn’t think Rachel would be the kind to judge harshly, but Mary didn’t know that.

“Oh, you know, it’s town. I’m thinking of putting a little diner counter in here and a coffee pot so people can be comfortable as they gossip. I might as well make a few bucks if they’re going to stand around gabbing half the day.”

He laughed. “Yeah, good thinking. Have you met my wife? This is Mary. Mary, this is Rachel.”

Mary shot him a pained look, but smiled at Rachel. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, hun,” Rachel said, as warmly as she’d spoke to him. “I understand you’re new in town. I hope our little community doesn’t leave you too…unimpressed. For all the gossips and cranks, there are just as many nice people who believe in personal freedom. You’re always welcome to stop in for groceries and a cup of coffee…you know, once I get my counter set up.”

Paul’s heart grew a special spot for Rachel when Mary gazed up at him with dim hope in her eyes. Mary had closed herself off to the town once the gossip started, and her focusing on Duane had helped her do it. Rachel gave her an opening for when she wanted to try again.

“Thanks, Rachel. I love this place. I didn’t realize how great a creamery could be. The ones back home aren’t nearly this nice or well stocked. Have you thought about yogurt?”

Paul tooled around for a bit as Mary and Rachel talked about bacteria cultures and organic milk. He looked out the front window of the small shop across to the grocery store where Sam stood at his window. Paul gave a small wave. The other man had tried to apologize for his sister when Paul canceled his food account, but it hadn’t been enough. When he’d called Rachel about being their supplier, she’d been thrilled. He’d made a lot of decisions in his life he felt good about, but this one ranked pretty high—higher even when Mary’s tinkling laugh filled the space.

“Paul, you have to bring Mary in more often.” Rachel began entering grocery prices in her old-fashioned cash register. “We’re going to talk yogurt and raw cheese—it’s not just for hippies anymore. I need some goat milk for a few new recipes. Do you think you could get some goats?”

“If Mary wants them, I’ll get them,” he said. “Thomas will hate it though. Goats and sheep freak him out.”

Mary frowned at him. “How in the world could he be freaked out by goats and sheep?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? He’s nuts.”

Rachel laughed. “Wow, Mary. You have your hands full. But hey, the upside has to be that even if one Paraby won’t help you with the animals, you have two others to help you wrangle them.”

Paul froze at the casual mention of their relationship and waited for Mary’s response. He honestly believed Rachel acted genuine, but he didn’t know how his wife would view it after being so on guard.

Mary laughed and elbowed him. “There’s another perk I hadn’t anticipated. I suppose I could even shear the sheep for wool with all the help I’ll have.”

Rachel chuckled. “Let me know when this event shall take place. I’ll stock up on baking goods. Men, in my experience at least, respond better when there are cupcakes involved in these types of missions.”

“Or brownies,” Mary added. “My guys go for brownies.”

The women talked about baking, but it wasn’t the words Paul noticed but Mary’s smile. She looked happy. The emotion had been absent in the last few weeks. She hadn’t been as down since Duane’s arrival home, for sure, but determination and nurturing weren’t the same as joy. This was. He wished he could have been the one to make her smile, but he’d take it any way he could get it. It was probably better that Mary had at least one female acquaintance, if not friend yet.

Paul toted the grocery bags to the truck and started the engine. The radio played a few songs before he checked his watch, wondering where she was. Figuring she’d found something more she needed, Paul started to kill the engine. Mary hustled out with a few slips of paper. She whipped open her door and jumped in before he could help her.

“Isn’t she a doll? I’m sorry it took an extra minute. She wrote out her cupcake recipe for me, so then I had to write out my brownie one.” Her eyes shined. “I really like her. Thanks for introducing us.”

“I wish I would have thought to sooner.” He pulled out of the parking lot. “She and her husband are nice people, laid back but hard workers. They mind their own business but have big hearts.”

“And she knows about us and isn’t weird about it. I…I didn’t know if I’d find anyone who could laugh about it with me. Aunt Marcy, yeah, but she thinks any woman who is attracted to anything with a wiener is humorous. Now, if only the rest of the town and your mother would come around…”

He reached across the center seat and squeezed her knee. “How about we take this win and run with it? You have Duane coming around and now you have Rachel in town. That’s a hell of a week, huh?”

She smiled. “Yes, you’re right. One battle at a time. I’m not entirely sure I’m getting through to Duane. Some days… I’m not going to make this about me and be selfish, so I’ll just stay patient.”

“Duane is one of those guys where you don’t know exactly where he is until the water starts rising. Then you’ll know if he’s on your side or if he’s going to float off. I’m pretty sure he’s going to rise to the occasion. If he doesn’t, he’ll be making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.”

Chapter 20

The speedometer twittered a fraction over the speed limit, a place it never reached with Thomas at the wheel. Mary checked the clock and realized they’d cut their timing mighty close.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Just drop me off here and go to the courthouse.”

He scowled at her as he turned into the hospital’s parking lot. “No. I’ll make sure you get to the room. I should have planned better.”

Three weeks of commuting between the ranch and Fort Harrison left Thomas with plenty of time to find new job opportunities. The latest one culminating in a meeting he couldn’t wait to attend. Mary checked the car clock again, calculating the minutes he had until his second interview.

“Drop me off at the doors and get going.” She grabbed her purse. “I won’t forgive myself if you’re late. I know where Duane’s room is and I’m pretty sure there’s not a safer place in the state.”

Thomas still frowned, but pulled up to the doors instead of parking. “I don’t like doing this. If he’s having a bad day you’ll be stuck here.”

She leaned across the center console of the truck and kissed his smooth cheek, his spicy aftershave a treat for her nose. “I’ll be fine. Knock ’em dead at the interview. They’ll be lucky to have you.”

Mary jumped out of the car and hurried to the hospital, knowing Thomas would watch until she stepped inside. The clock on the wall said he had at least twenty minutes, but she would have liked him to have a little longer to drive and focus once he arrived. She shrugged off her worry. He could handle whatever came up and he’d do beautifully. If not, there would be other jobs.

She signed in at the front desk and hurried through the halls to the psych ward. Duane hated being in the ‘lockdown loony bin’ as he called the fifteen bed ward, but she was grateful the VA had treatment available, even if it remained in the experimental stage.

She waited at the locked door after pressing the buzzer. The nurses and doctors knew her by name. In a way, they’d become family in getting Duane healthy.