Noah looked the guy over and nodded.
Toby glanced down. “Hey, Cindy.” His voice was low and calm.
She looked up, fear keeping her eyes wide.
“I’m Toby. Can I talk to you for a second?”
She gave a jerky nod.
“It might not feel like it, but right now, your brain’s being really smart. It’s spotting danger and trying to keep you safe. It’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to do.”
The woman stared at Toby like he was a lifeline. Was the guy trained in this stuff?
“But,” Toby continued, “your brain doesn’t realize that the danger isn’t real. It doesn’t recognize that you’re harnessed in and there’s no way for you to fall. Can I help your brain catch up?”
She nodded again. “O-okay.”
“Let’s start with some deep breaths. In through the nose, hold, and out of the mouth.”
Cindy closed her eyes and did exactly as Toby told her to.
“Slow and steady. That’s good. Do you feel your body starting to relax and feel safe? It’s coming out of its freeze. Let’s breathe again.”
Cindy breathed again.
“Good. Now, I want you to do something for me—one step up. That’s your only job.”
Noah didn’t think she’d do it. But she lifted a foot and stepped up the ladder.
“That was really great, Cindy! Now the next one.”
Toby continued to talk to Cindy and, one step at a time, the woman climbed the ladder.
When she got near the top, Noah pulled her up.
Toby smiled at her. “Amazing work!” His voice still held that calming undertone. “You ready for the next part?”
Who the hellwasthis guy?
It didn’t matter. He was helpful.
Not only did Toby help the woman up the ladder, he used the exact same method to get her down the zip line, where Flint met everyone on the other side.
The group’s hour and a half went quickly. Everyone had a few turns, and by Cindy’s third time up the ladder and down the line, she didn’t blink.
Toby was a damn magician. Maybe they should hire him.
At the end, Noah debriefed everyone and collected the gear before walking the group back with Flint. Even Cindy was smiling.
As people left, Noah turned to Toby. “Thanks for your help today.”
“It’s my job.” Toby frowned and glanced toward the parking lot before stepping closer. “Look, I don’t mean to butt into something that isn’t my business, but I couldn’t help overhearing a bit of your conversation with your receptionist when I arrived this morning.”
Noah’s jaw clenched. Great, now even strangers were finding out that he was a damn mess.
Toby shoved his hands into his pocket. “I’m a clinical psychologist. I’m very familiar with treating trauma. I don’t use any fancy machines or do anything too crazy. I do a lot of cognitive processing therapy, which helps restructure traumatic thoughts, so they don’t control you.”
Noah had already had therapy before leaving the military. It hadn’t helped. But he didneedhelp.
