Chapter Six

The pink light of dawn painted the room as Samuel opened his eyes to the sound of running water. He found his back pressed firmly to the wall. John had clearly hogged the bulk of the king sized bed, but Samuel felt so very refreshed that he couldn't rally even the smallest touch of irritation.

The shower stopped, and soon John was sitting on the edge of his bed, reaching over to ruffle Samuel's hair and offer breakfast. With no need to spite his own stomach, Samuel hurried in the shower.

Hot food in front of him, there was no further excuse to postpone discussing Amanda's care. He worried briefly that John would resent pushing the girl in any fashion, but it couldn't be helped. He folded the napkin carefully in his lap, picked up his fork, and outlined his concerns.

"I'm not sure, Samuel. Can't you leave her a few days of peace?"

"Shall we revisit the definition of 'I trust you completely'? Good morning, Jack. I hope we didn't wake you." And they were saved from uncomfortable topics by the mundane ebb and flow of breakfast and house guests. But after the last pancake was gone, Samuel pushed forward again. "John, don't give her time to fret about it. Just bring Amanda to my office after lunch."

Jack couldn't seem to stay out of the fray either. "Are you certain... Samuel, really, I know you have the best of intentions, but the poor girl barely has her feet..."

"You both trust me so completely that you'll argue with my decisions?" He turned toward Jack and raised an eyebrow in challenge. "The road to insanity is paved with perfectly valid coping strategies. The girl has found an activity which offers comfort and distraction. This is precisely the time to press forward and put it to good use."

"Samuel, have you taken time to carefully examine your reasons for pushing her so early..."

"Don't finish that thought, Jack. Do you truly think I'm pushing this to feed my own morbid curiosity? Do you remember why I turned up in your office five years ago? How I couldn't discuss what it was I had fled?" As he paused to breathe, John's fingers twined firmly in his hair and gave a subtle, painful tug. Resentfully, Samuel accepted the silent rebuke for the moment and made a quick excuse to Jack.

If John wanted a private word, Samuel would happily give him several behind closed doors. The den was dark and deserted, and the barest of motions ensured it would stay that way until they were finished. John's hand remained firmly wrapped in Samuel's hair and his angry attempt to throw it off ended with Samuel pressed hard against the wall.

"You're not the only one with a temper, Crane. Don't blow your cover with Dr. Brown at any cost." The wolf was whispering in his ear. But some things had changed in the last five years. Samuel felt the exact moment when John shifted his weight and drove his own forward as well, knocking them both off their feet. On the floor the men frantically wrestled for dominance with Samuel landing finally on top.

"I told you that I would not be bullied."

"Well fought, Samuel. You've clearly been working out, and your technique is almost flawless." And then the insufferable wolf rocked him in the one direction he wasn't balanced. Samuel couldn't correct, hit the ground hard, and felt his arm being pinned behind his back. Then a soft caress across the back of his ear. "Almost flawless." And this time it didn't sound complimentary so much as gloating.

Damn, he didn't want to have this conversation with John sitting on his back. Things typically did not play out to his advantage when the wolf was involved. "John, you know I'm right. You and Jack can speculate about how those men would break someone, but I know in the first person."

"But..."

"When you said that you trust me, did you lie?"

No, John hadn't lied. And Samuel had known that from the first. The couch was more conducive to discussion than the floor, and they came to an uneasy understanding: John, that Samuel had truly become the best in his field, and Samuel that John knew something of Amanda as a person, and could offer valid insight as well.

And if they left the den without resolving the issue of dominance, they had decided that sorting it out might be enjoyable after all.

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Samuel found that he didn't resent being trapped behind his desk through the rest of the morning. He spoke calmly with the heiress while she complained about the color of the clinic's towels, spent some time on the phone with Judge Bradly, again, and filtered though the little details that continually needed his attention.

When Cathy knocked on his door, he realized that he had worked through lunch. She apologized for interrupting him, and asked for a decision that only he could make.

She seemed shocked when he calmly thought for a minute and gave her an answer. "You don't need me to come back after you've given it some thought? Aren't you in a good mood today."

He had been. But her glib smirk and tone caused him to scowl at her.

"Never mind, I'll get right on that. Thanks for your time."

"Oh, Cathy, if Dr. West calls again, please impart that I have no interest in bringing in a partner at this time."

She left with a nod. He would have to be very careful about who saw the kinder, gentler Dr. Crane. It wouldn't do to have his staff speculating on his love life.

After a late lunch at home and a brief, heated argument with Jack, Samuel decided to trust his instincts. Settling into his home office, he asked John to send Amanda in. It was time to take the next step.

She spoke haltingly, staring at the yarn passing through her hands, until Samuel realized what was bothering him. Stepping around the desk, he lifted several feet of finished scarf off the floor. He compared the length to what he remembered from the night before and began asking pointed questions.

"Do you knit even faster when you are alone?"

"Not really, why?"

"This scarf is at least twice as long as it should be, given the amount of free time you've had since last night."

Her fingers stopped completely as she stared at her feet.

"Amanda, did you sleep at all?" The head shake was barely noticeable. "Why not?"

"... Nightmares..." John had been right. She looked as though she might actually break if he pushed too hard. Samuel would need to read her reactions very carefully.

"I can help you banish your nightmares tonight. I do want you to sleep, but for the long term, we will need to help you face them. Can we agree on that?"

"I don't want to deal with any of it."

"Nevertheless..."

She clenched her jaw as she looked away from him. But this silence, clearly born of stubbornness, he could live with. Actually, it indicated that her will was intact. That was a good sign. He didn't argue when she stood to go.

Samuel steepled his hands in front of his tired eyes and shifted his focus from fingertips to the weather vane on top of the barn. After a few transitions his eyes felt more relaxed, and the twinge of pain eased inside his skull. How was he going to get through to Amanda?

Picking up the phone, he smiled as he jotted down the addresses supplied by directory assistance. A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he invited John in, mainly because the man was offering a cup of rich, Italian roast. He savored the aroma with the first mouthful. Merlin, coffee was amazing.

John smirked at him and Samuel knew his attention was lost. He might as well enjoy the company, so he gestured to the chair. And stood abruptly when John picked up a ball of pale gold yarn, two needles and miles of unfinished scarf.

Samuel felt something icy cold twist in his stomach.