Butterfly Bayou (Butterfly Bayou 1)

The shift was obvious. Again, it was something she’d absolutely seen a hundred times. The patient started out aggressive, and when that didn’t work, tried to play on her sympathy. She couldn’t afford sympathy. Sympathy would leave Noelle in that chair. “I’m mean because you’re too stubborn to see that you’re allowing your fear to keep you in that chair. Is that what you want? Do you want to sit there the rest of your life? Do you want the rest of the world to wait on you hand and foot? That sounds awfully easy.”

The words were mean and utterly untrue, but Lila was trying to shove Noelle into a corner where she’d fight for herself. Fighting for herself might lead her to break out of the cycle she was in. If Lila had to be the bad guy for a while, she was willing to do that. Sometimes the patient needed someone to fight, some villain to overcome and prove something to.

“It is damn fucking hard.”

Unfortunately, that hadn’t come out of Noelle’s mouth. She looked over and Armie was standing there, his eyes cold as ice. He wasn’t in uniform today. He wore slacks and a dress shirt and loafers. He looked like he’d just come out of a business meeting, which according to what he’d told her this morning, he likely had. And he looked angry.

She had a lot of explaining to do. She knew she would have to eventually, but she hadn’t expected he would walk in at the worst possible time. They needed to show a united front or Noelle would use it as another way to stay in the box she’d put herself in. “Let’s talk in the office. Noelle, this isn’t finished.”

Noelle started crying in earnest, her big eyes shimmering and her face going red. “Daddy, I want to go home.”

“Noelle, I need to talk to Lila alone for a moment. Why don’t you go and get your things and wait for me in the lobby,” Armie said in a tone that brooked no disobedience. The sheriff was in the house.

Noelle looked up at her, but there was no triumph in her eyes. She was crying. “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you needed me to be.”

Lila groaned and started to lean over.

Armie stepped between them. “Don’t you say another word to her.”

Noelle made her way to the hall.

“What is that supposed to mean?” It was very obvious he’d misunderstood what was going on. This was sometimes how therapy went, and it was absolutely how parental figures and teens went at times.

“It means I can’t believe you talked to her that way.”

“I know I was harsh, but we’re on a deadline, Armie, and gentle prodding isn’t working,” she explained. “There’s something going on with her and she won’t talk about it. Something is holding her back, and I need to get her to acknowledge it so we can get her on her feet before she loses this window.”

“That window closed the day she lost use of her legs,” he insisted. “I am not going to have you make things harder on her.”

Why wasn’t he listening? He could be so logical but about this he was a freaking rock she battered her head against. “That’s what I am trying to tell you. I don’t think she has to lose it all, but she’s afraid.”

His hands found his hips and he loomed over her. “Yes, she’s afraid of you. She thinks you’re trying to get rid of her, and after hearing the way you talked to her, I have to question every damn thing I know about you.”

How to explain this to him? “Physical therapy can be a difficult process. Have you ever known someone who went through it? You said your partner got shot once. Did you ever go to one of his therapy sessions?”

He shook his head. “It’s different. He was a cop. He could handle it.”

“Noelle can handle it, too. Do you know what I would have done to anyone but a family member who refused to do the work? I would have told them they could find me when they got serious about healing and I would have walked away.”

“Well, I wish like hell you would have done that here because the one thing she doesn’t need is more negativity.”

“No, she needs to believe she can do this, and you are not helping her. You are holding her back by coddling her.” The minute the words were out of her mouth she knew they were a mistake. “Armie, I know you’re trying . . .”

He cut her off. “No, please tell me what you think. I’m not a good enough father? How the hell would you know? You never had a father. You can’t possibly know how to raise a child because you never had a parent.”