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 alittle 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 itsometimes. 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 acrossfrom 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.
