Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

“When do you plan to tell Paige you’re her father?” she asked.

The question, coming out of nowhere, caught him off guard. He exhaled slowly as the answer came together. “As things stand now, I think she’s better off not knowing. She lost her father once. For her to lose him again when I leave here—that would be cruel.”

“She’s a bright little girl. What will you do if she guesses the truth?”

What would he do? Stay? But he didn’t belong here. Since leaving the VA hospital, his survival had depended on change—new places, new work, new people, as often as it took. When the monsters in his mind threatened to surface, it was time to move on.

With strangers, it had been easier to walk away. But here, with people who had a connection to him, the pitfalls were everywhere, waiting to trap him. So far, he’d managed to keep the depression and anxiety under control—or at least hidden from sight. But he couldn’t do it forever. Sooner or later, his dark side would come out—a side of her father that no child should have to see.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I’m thinking it might be best just to leave now. I could find a job somewhere and send Dusty payments in the mail. Believe me, I’d do it. I don’t like owing anybody favors or money.”

Kira gazed into the coals of the dying fire. After what seemed like a long time, she spoke. “I know you don’t want complications. And the last thing either of us wants is for Paige to be hurt. But the truth is, until Dusty’s on his feet again, I’m going to need your help. Besides, you’ve only been here a couple of days. I can’t imagine you’d have enough money to get very far. You don’t even have a vehicle to drive.”

“I’ve gotten by with less,” Jake said, thinking of the early days out of the hospital when he’d hitched rides, gone without meals and slept in shelters until he could find work. He could do it again if he had to. But Kira was right. She’d be hard-pressed to manage her therapy program alone. And when Dusty came home, the old man would be more likely to get needed rest if someone was here to help with the work.

“I’ll stay,” he said. “For now, at least. But there’s still Paige.”

“Yes. There’s Paige.” Her tone was laced with caution. Jake thought of the little girl, trailing him around the yard, often slipping her hand into his. He remembered the bittersweetness of tucking her into bed and hearing her prayers. For the good of all concerned, those tender moments would have to end.

And he knew why. Even now, he could feel the stirrings that signaled a bad spell coming on.

“I’ll do my best to keep Paige at a distance,” he said. “But I’m going to need your help.”

“You’ll have it.” She laid a light hand on his arm. Her fingers were cool. Her touch penetrated his skin like a gentle electric current. The need for intimate contact—a need he’d too long denied himself—pulsed through his body, awakening hidden hungers. Maybe if he seized her in his arms and kissed her, it would be enough of a distraction to halt the black tide that was creeping over and around him, threatening to pull him under.

But that would only be using her. And if he couldn’t control his demons . . . he shuddered inwardly, fearing he might not be able to stop himself from going too far. He’d committed some hellish acts in Afghanistan, but rape wasn’t one of them.

He stepped back, away from her. “Go get some rest,” he said. “I’ll clean up here.”

“No, that’s fine. I can at least take these when I go inside.” She began to gather utensils and leftover food from the camp table, putting everything on the tray.

“Go now, Kira,” he said. “I need to be alone.”

She turned toward him, the tray in her hands. “I’ll just—”

“Go, damn it! Just go!” His voice had dropped to a tightly reined snarl.

Kira gave him a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

“I will be if you leave me alone. Now go!”

Tight-mouthed, she wheeled and strode toward the house. A moment later, Jake saw the kitchen light come on. She’d be all right, he told himself. It would ta

ke a lot to rattle Kira. But he wouldn’t stand for her treating him like one of her patients. If the shrinks in the VA hospital couldn’t help him, neither could she. The monsters in his mind had unpacked their bags and signed a long-term lease. They weren’t going anywhere.

Crumbling like a mud wall under heavy fire, Jake sank onto a bench and cradled his head in his hands. He’d sworn off hard liquor after the bar fight that had landed him in jail. Alcohol helped blur his memory, but it also tended to make him violent and get him into trouble. Except for the Corona that Dusty had bought him in Flagstaff, he hadn’t had a drop since that night in the bar. But he still craved alcohol. If he had a bottle right now, he’d drink until he passed out. At least it would give him some rest. He’d tried medication, too, in the hospital. It had brought on a merciful numbness, but it made him feel so dull and stupid that in the end he’d refused to take it.

What he needed now was rest. Tomorrow would start early, with Kira and her students needing his help. By then, he would have to be functional and under control. But sleep, if it came at all, could bring the nightmares—so real that they were like living his past hell all over again. He could expect to wake up screaming—or, at least, in a cold, quaking sweat.

Right now he was too restless to sleep. Feeling the urge to move, he stood. The fire had burned down to coals. The house windows were dark, but the motion-sensor light, mounted on the edge of the roof, came on as he moved away from the fire.

Overhead, the Milky Way stretched like a glittering bridge across the heavens. The stars were cold and distant against the dark sky. Jake began to walk, past the stable and out toward the ranch gate. Something cool and damp nudged his hand. He glanced down to see that the dog had joined him. He reached down and scratched the shaggy head. Animals—even horses, he was learning—had a soothing way about them. They didn’t judge or lie, offering only the truth of their being. All they asked in return was to be treated decently. Maybe that was the key to Kira’s horse therapy. Mastering a horse required patience, respect and consistency—traits that were lacking in the troubled kids who’d come here for help. But Jake could already see the progress they were making.

If only things were that simple for him.

He passed under the gate and took the winding trail down the slope to the flat rock where he and Kira had watched the sunrise. Here and there, ranches and housing developments dotted the land with light. In the distance, Tucson glittered like a jeweled beacon. Construction on the valley road below had stopped for the night.