Disclaimers: No, I don't own 'The Rookies.' If I did, I'd be making a hell of a lot more money than I'm making now.
Summary: Jill makes the move out to the country where things finally start moving in a positive direction with Mike.
Chapter 10: Adjustments and Readjustments
It was a warm sunny day as Mike drove Jill out to the house in the country. Paul was following behind them in his own car so that the two of them could talk without feeling as if they were being spied on. Jill was thrilled about the move for two reasons. One was that she was finally able to leave the hospital and two; she could actually wear her own clothes and not a gown and robe every day.
The previous few weeks had been difficult ones for Jill. She'd made the transition from a walker, which she hated, to metal crutches. She still hadn't quite mastered the metal crutches. They required concentration, which she didn't always have. A misstep would send her crashing to the floor in a heap. Her arms and legs bore the testimony of how often she forgot to move correctly and ended up on the floor. Paul had taught Mike all of the exercises that he'd have to help Jill with at night before she went to bed. It had long before been agreed that the therapist would only be at the house from early in the morning until shortly after dinner. His leaving at the end of the day left her care up to Mike, but he wanted it that way in order to get her used to being around him again.
Jill's memory was still cloudy where Mike was concerned, although she was now starting to have strange dreams where he was in them. Only the dreams never made any sense. Lately, the dreams had been flashing on her when she was awake, leaving her more confused than ever. She'd find herself staring at the photographs in the album that he'd left her for hours, trying to force some kind of memories into the images in the pictures.
Mike glanced over at her as she watched the scenery passing by the window. "There's something that I need to tell you before we get to the cottage," he warned her as she looked at him. "I didn't tell you this before because I knew that it'd upset you. I guess that I was hoping that you'd start remembering things on your own."
"What?"
"Trap has been working as a handyman out at Lt. Ryker's for over a year now," he stole a glance at her.
"Why didn't . . . why didn't . . . you . . . tell me . . . this?" Words were beginning to form more easily for her, but she still stuttered a great deal of the time.
"I don't know. He won't be staying in the house. He has a small place on the property. He takes care of the horses and makes sure that the place doesn't get vandalized. He helped me and Paul with the repairs for your move."
"Any . . . other . . . surprises?"
He was surprised. She'd taken the news about Trap better than he'd thought she would. "No, that's it."
"Question."
"What's on your mind?"
"You say . . . that . . . we're married? Right?" She glanced at him as he nodded. "The pictures . . . say . . . that . . . too. Why . . . don't you . . . do . . . anything . . . to me?"
"What do you mean?" He asked as she began to blush. "Oh. Jill, think about it for a second. You don't remember me. Would it seem right to you?"
"I . . . don't . . . know. Cleve . . . wouldn't . . . have cared."
"Yeah, well, I'm not Cleve," he blew out his breath as he made the turn-off to Ryker's house.
"I'm sorry. I know . . . you . . . don't . . . like it . . . when . . . I . . . bring . . . him . . . up."
"When things start clicking in your mind about me and you, then we'll take the next step. Okay?" He glanced over at her as he parked the car under the carport and shut off the engine.
"Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"What if . . . what if . . . I . . . never . . . remember us?"
"Then we'll start over," he stated simply.
"I don't . . . understand," she frowned as Paul walked up to the car to help her out.
Mike walked into the house, followed by Paul and Jill. She smiled as she slowly made her way around the house, looking at the pictures above the fireplace. "Mary Kate," she whispered as Mike looked at Paul.
"How do you know her name?" Mike came and stood beside her.
"I don't know. It . . . just . . . came . . . to me. Strange," she shook her head as she continued looking around.
"Come on, I'll show you where you're going to sleep," he said as he took her arm to guide her down the short hallway.
"The first . . . door . . . on the . . . right," Mike's mind was boggled. How could she possibly remember every detail about a house that she'd spent a week in one time almost a year before, yet she couldn't remember that she was happily married to him? "Paul?" She called out from the bedroom.
"Yeah?" Her therapist called out as he came and stood in the doorway.
"Where . . . are . . . you . . . going . . . to sleep?"
"At home, in my own bed. Jill, we've talked about this a bunch of times. Don't you remember? I'll be here with you from six in the morning until after supper. You're going to be fine here with Mike. As far as I know, he doesn't bite," he smiled as he looked at Mike.
"Mike . . . where . . . are you . . . going . . . to sleep?"
"In the room right next door. I'll hear you if you need anything in the middle of the night."
"Who'll help . . . me with . . . my . . . shower?"
"Jill, it's going to be okay," Paul came into the room and stood next to her. "We brought everything that we need from the hospital. Mike can stand outside of the bathroom door in case you need anything."
"No!" She said in sudden fury. "He's . . . not . . . trained!"
"Jill, Mike and I have been working together. While you've been getting used to walking on those crutches, Mike has been learning how to help you with your exercises and anything else that you might need. You're going to be fine. Trust him," Paul urged her as they heard a knock on the door. "I'll go and get the door."
"Hey, it's going to be okay," he tried to tell her as he reached for her hand only to have her pull away from him.
She wasn't as sure. Change was terrifying to her. Change made everything in her world seem so topsy-turvy right now. It wasn't that she didn't trust Mike. He'd been wonderful the last several weeks and she'd come to depend on him far more than she wanted to. He was the only person who visited every day, often with treats or small gifts to let her know that he was thinking about her. On his days off, he'd come early in the morning and spend the entire day with her, not leaving until he was practically thrown out by whichever nurse was on duty. He was funny and sweet, but she wasn't sure just what it was that she was feeling for him.
To be told that he'd be responsible for her care in the evenings was a daunting prospect. She was especially terrified of him helping her to shower. Even though he'd told her that he knew about her scars, having him see them was something that she wasn't ready for. If she didn't wear anything with buttons, she could undress herself and he wouldn't have to see her naked. She smiled to herself, satisfied with the solution to her dilemma.
Paul re-entered the room with Trap, who was followed by a small mongrel dog. "Cute dog," she sat on the edge of the bed as the black and white spotted dog came over to greet her.
"Does Ryker let you bring animals into his house?" Mike asked as he sat beside Jill to pet the small, friendly dog.
"I wouldn't know. This is the first time I've ever let him come in with me," Trap answered. "Domino just came trotting up one day. He's a great watchdog. I just came to see if you needed anything."
"No, I think we're good," Mike told him.
"Trap . . . does . . . he . . . bite?"
"Domino? No, I don't think so," he said as Mike gave him a strange look. Trap noticed Jill's face cloud over as he realized what she was asking him. "Oh, you mean would he bite if someone showed up who wasn't supposed to be here? Yeah, I guess he probably would."
"Good," she seemed relieved by this bit of information.
"Holler if you need anything. Domino, come!" Trap called to the dog, who reluctantly left Jill and followed his master.
"Can we . . . go . . . outside? I want . . . to . . . look . . . around."
"Yeah, we can take a walk," he agreed as he went over and looped Jill's arm through his so that she wouldn't have to depend on the crutches. "Would you like to join us, Paul?"
"No, I'm going to go check out the kitchen and start dinner. You two have a nice walk," he said as Mike and Jill left the bedroom and started toward the front of the house.
"Let's stay on the walk. The ground is too rocky and uneven," Mike warned her as they followed the path around to the back of the house.
"Why do . . . I . . . remember . . . this . . . house?"
"I don't know. I guess it was just tucked in the back of your mind somewhere," he told her as they slowly walked toward the stable.
"Paul said . . . there . . . are horses. Can we . . . go . . . riding?"
"Yes, but not today. It's going to be dark in a couple of hours. Let me know if you start to get tired."
"I'm okay," she assured him as they entered the stable.
"Trap said that he keeps some carrots and apples in one of the bins," he said as he walked over and raised the lid on one of the wooden bins and found the produce. He placed some carrot slices in Jill's outstretched hand. "Close your hand up."
"I can't," she protested.
"Yes, you can. Paul wants you to start using your right hand more," he reminded her.
With her face set in concentration, she finally managed to close her fingers into a fist to hold onto the carrot slices as he led her over to one of the stalls where a brown mare with a white blaze on her face whinnied a greeting. "Hi, Dusty," she smiled as she fed the carrots to the horse.
"You remember her name?" He asked, puzzled once again at the tricks her memory was playing.
"It's written . . . there," she pointed to a board above the horses' stall.
"Now I feel really stupid," he grinned as she began to laugh. He had to laugh in return since it was so wonderful to hear her laugh again.
"You thought . . . that I . . . remembered . . . her and . . . not you? Don't you . . . think . . . that . . . I'd . . . rather . . . remember . . . you . . . than . . . some silly . . . horse?"
"I'd certainly hope so."
"Tomorrow . . . we'll . . . go riding?"
"If I get home from work while it's still light, we'll go riding. I promise," he took her arm once again. "But, I think that Paul's going to put you on horseback tomorrow as part of your therapy."
"What . . . time?"
"What time what? What time will I be home?" He asked as she nodded. "I'm not sure. Probably around five. Come on, let's go get ready for dinner."
Dinnertime gave Mike his first glimpse at how difficult things still were for his wife. She got into a major battle of wills with Paul when she kept insisting on using her stronger left hand to eat. Paul kept switching her fork from her left hand to her right, and she'd immediately switch back. "Jill, I'm going to tie your left hand to your side if you don't stop," Paul warned her.
"Excuse me, but is that really necessary?" Mike asked, his ire slowly rising at what he perceived to be the therapists' cruel treatment.
"Mike, we've talked about this," Paul reminded him as he once again switched Jill's fork from her left hand to her right. In anger, she hurled her fork across the room followed seconds later by her dinner plate, which hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces. "Okay, I guess that dinner's over," he sighed as he got up.
Paul went into the pantry and came back with the broom and dustpan as Mike got up from the table and walked out of the back door toward the swimming pool area. "Am I . . . done?" Jill asked as she retrieved her crutches from beside her chair and pulled herself to her feet.
"Yeah, you're done. Jill, I'm cleaning up your mess this time. If you're going to insist on throwing dishes in the future, then you're going to be responsible for cleaning up the mess," Paul said as he threw the broken pieces into the trash. "Stay here for a minute."
Paul found Mike sitting by the pool, where he was still trying to get his emotions under control. "You shouldn't have threatened her," he said in a tight voice as he glared at the therapist.
"Mike, I wasn't threatening her. Listen to me," he pulled up a chair and sat next to him. "If you can't handle this, then maybe Jill would be better off at Rancho Mirage. If you really want to do this, you're going to have to suck it up and start being tough with her. There are times when you're going to have to be downright mean to her. She's made tremendous progress, but the battle is just beginning. You might need to ask yourself a tough question. Are you here as her husband or as her therapist?"
"Why can't I be both?"
"Right now you can't. When you do her leg and arm exercises with her in about an hour, she 's going to beg you to stop. She's going to complain that it hurts. And it does hurt. I'm aware of that. But you can't give in to her. If you give in to her, you're never going to get the old Jill back. When you take her into the pool, once again she's going to beg you to stay out of the deep end. You're going to have to close your ears to all of that. Believe me when I tell you that I want to give in every time I have a patient screaming that I'm hurting them. I don't do this because I enjoy torturing people. I do this so that they can be what they used to be. Like I just said, if you can't do this, then tomorrow we'll take her to Rancho Mirage and leave her in the care of people who can do this," he said as he got up.
"No, I can do this," Mike's voice was determined, his eyes even more so. "I have to be with her, Paul. I want you to understand that."
"I know. I'm going to go wash up and hit the road. Do you want me to help you get her ready for her exercises or can you handle it alone?"
"No, I'll do it."
"I'll see you in the morning then."
Mike was still sitting beside the dimly lit pool several minutes later when he heard the unmistakable sound of Jill's crutches on the flagstone patio. "Jill, please go back into the house. I'll be inside in just a few minutes," he called out as he got up and began walking toward the stable.
"Mike!" She called out to him as she struggled to catch up.
"Jill, please go back into the house!" He spoke more sternly than he'd intended. "It's dark out here! I don't want you falling and getting hurt!"
"Mike . . . why are . . . you . . . so angry?"
"Is Paul in the house?"
"Yes. He was . . . cleaning . . . up the . . . kitchen."
"Go inside and ask him to help you get ready for your exercises."
"I thought . . . that you . . . were . . . going to . . . help me."
He took a deep breath as he slowly turned around. His heart was breaking and there didn't seem to be a thing that he could do to stop the pain. "I need some time alone. Just for a little while. Go back inside and I'll be there in just a few minutes."
"Be . . . careful," she called out as he finally heard her footsteps going in the opposite direction.
***MJMJMJ***
Mike was standing at one of the stalls feeding apple slices to Ranger, one of the other horses when Trap happened by. "I didn't know anybody was out here. I just came in to check on the horses for the night."
"I just needed some air," he said as he rubbed the velvety nose of the huge horse.
"Rough night?"
"I've only been with Jill for a few hours a day, except on my days off. I knew that it was hard and I knew that she was struggling, but tonight was the first time I've really been hit in the face with it. I love her so much, but I don't know how to deal with this," his voice caught as he continued stroking the horse.
"I guess that you'll deal with it in the same way that you've dealt with everything else that's ever involved Jill. Slowly and one day at a time. I mean, do you really have a choice here?"
"No, I don't. She hasn't said too much lately about Cleve, but I'm not really sure what that means. Can I ask you a question?"
"What?" Trap asked as he sat down on a bale of hay.
"We talked about this briefly a long time ago, but I have to know something because Jill won't ever tell me. Was it always awful for her in that house?" He asked as he walked over and sat on another bale.
"Not at first," Trap remembered. "For the first year or so, he didn't hit her as often as he did later. But if he wasn't hitting her, he was ignoring her. I don't know which was worse. The nights . . . well, they were always bad, but you already know that."
"The scars, Trap. I want to know about the scars. I know that he knocked her into a swimming pool, but I want to know about the others."
"The day that he knocked her into the pool, she really should've gone to the ER and gotten stitched up. He wouldn't take her. The cuts were bad, Mike. They bled off and on for days and they took forever to heal. I was worried and scared, but if I'd defied him . . . god, I was such a fucking coward," he covered his face with his hands.
"You weren't a coward. You did the best that you could and you got her out of there when you needed to. I just don't understand how he could've done those things to her. I don't understand how he could've turned her life into a nightmare. I mean, are we even talking about the same woman?"
"She was different before you met her. As for why he did it, it's the way that he was raised. His father and grandfather were the same way. There are a lot of scars. I don't remember all of the beatings because they all kind of blended together after a while. I just remember her screaming at night. That'll never go away."
"She asked me today when we were driving out here why I haven't done anything to her yet," he remembered as he shook his head. "I just keep thinking about that night in the woods when I stopped that son of a bitch just short of putting a bullet into my wife's brain."
"Do you wish that you'd killed him instead of Eddie?"
"Oh, yeah," he admitted. "It would've been worth facing IAD. I've got to get back to the house. I'll talk to you later."
"Mike, if you ever want to talk, you know where I am. For what it's worth, there are some things I hope that she never remembers."
"Trap, she never forgot about the nights. That's why she's afraid of what I'm going to 'do' to her," he said, his eyes bright with tears. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Jill's oldest friend returned the greeting as he remained sitting in the barn long after Mike had left.
He remembered being 16 years old and hearing the awful sounds coming from that bedroom down the hall. Grunts, the unmistakable sound of someone being slapped, and worst of all, the sounds of Jill screaming and crying for Cleve to please stop hurting her. He remembered pounding on that door, asking if she was all right. Cleve's response had been for Trap to go back to his room and leave them the fuck alone.
There were times when he thought about calling his old man and having him come get him or at least send him bus fare to go back home. But, he knew that he couldn't leave Jill in that house of horrors alone. They'd been friends since they were seven and nine years old. He wasn't about to abandon her to whatever Cleve or his biker friends would do to her.
***MJMJMJ***
Paul was sitting in a chair in the living room when Mike walked in. "I thought that you were leaving," Mike reminded him as he walked into the house.
"You need to talk to Jill. She's really upset."
"She thinks that I'm mad at her."
"Are you?"
"No, I'm not mad. I'm frustrated. It's so hard seeing her like this," he sat down and rubbed his face.
"Then that's what you need to tell her. I have to go. I'll see you in the morning. An hour for exercises, Mike. Don't play loving hubby and let her con you into less."
He walked into the front bedroom after Paul had left and found Jill lying on her side on the bed, crying as if her heart was going to break. He noticed that she was wearing her shorts and t-shirt that she normally wore for her exercises, so at least Paul had helped her do that while he was outside feeling sorry for himself. He sat down on the edge of the bed as she rolled over toward him, her dark brown eyes full of sorrow. "I didn't mean to upset you," he apologized as she struggled to sit up.
"I thought . . . that you . . . were mad . . . at me."
"No, it's just not safe for you to walk around on the patio in the dark. Some of the stones are uneven. I even tripped on a couple of them."
"Are you . . . okay?" She was concerned as she sat up further.
"Yeah, I just popped my knee, but I'll be fine. Paul says that we're to work on your exercises for an hour and you're not to talk me into doing one minute less. Are you ready?"
She sat on the sofa as he put the mat on the floor. For the next hour, they did the various exercises on her weaker right side. As Paul had warned, she complained non-stop. But Mike was relentless. "Can we . . . please . . . stop?" She begged as she cried out in pain.
"Five more minutes," he said as he winced in pain himself. His right knee was hurting badly from tripping on the patio earlier. This knee had been giving him problems since he'd been hit by a car almost two years earlier. His doctor had told him that eventually he'd need surgery to correct the ongoing problems. But, with Jill in the condition that she was in, there was no time to worry about himself.
"You said . . . that . . . five . . . minutes ago," she fought for breath as she tried to wrestle her foot from Mike's firm grip.
"I promise that we'll stop in five minutes. Come on, push against me and we'll be done," he looked at her as she made a face. "I can see that you don't believe me."
"No you . . . went to . . . the Paul . . . Clay school . . . of torture."
"Does Paul ever tell you why he tortures you? Does he?" He repeated as she looked at him and shook her head. She'd never seen him so truly angry before. "Because once there was this beautiful young woman who was married to a police officer. She had a career as a nurse that she loved very much. One day while she was coming home from work, there was a horrible accident. That young woman didn't come off of that bus. Paul tortures you so that you will come back. Do you want things the way that they were?"
"That's . . . why you . . . you're . . . upset."
"Jill, I know that you're confused about so many things. I know that you don't understand why you think that Cleve abandoned you. That doesn't really matter. I know that you don't remember me. I don't like it, but right now there's not anything that I can do about it. But believe me when I do tell you that I love you and I'll do whatever I have to do to get you back to what you were before that awful afternoon."
"You said . . . today . . . that . . . we'll start . . . again?"
"If that's what I have to do to get you back, yes. You fell in love with me once before. I don't see any reason why I can't get you to fall in love with me again. Come on, I'll help you get undressed so that you can take a shower," he carefully lowered her right leg to the floor and helped her to her feet.
"I can . . . undress . . . myself. No . . . buttons," she smiled shyly.
"Okay, the shower chair is already in there and everything's in easy reach. There are bars on the shower wall. Call me if you need anything. I mean it," he looked at her as she nodded. After she got out of the shower, he helped her get settled into bed. "Do you need anything?"
"No."
"Now, there aren't any bars like at the hospital, but the bed's wide enough so that you shouldn't roll off of it. I'll be in the living room if you need anything. I'll leave the light on in the hall so that you can see your water glass," he said as he left the room.
She looked around the room after he left. The bed squeaked loudly every time she made the slightest movement. She lay there, wondering if her and Mike had ever slept in this bed. If they had, she hoped that his boss also hadn't been here when they were doing anything. The bed was so loud that it was embarrassing. Those were her last thoughts as she drifted off to sleep.
Before going into the living room, Mike retrieved his knee brace from his room and wrapped it around his aching knee before popping a couple of aspirin. He then went into the living room and sat in an easy chair, propping his feet on an ottoman. There was no TV since Ryker only stayed in the house on the occasional weekend, so he made a mental note to bring their TV from home on his way home the next day.
A couple of hours later, Jill jolted awake with a start. She wasn't sure what had woke her up, just that for some reason it had frightened her. She noticed that the hall light was still on. She sat up and put her legs over the side of the bed before reaching for the metal crutches that were propped against the night stand. Walking into the hallway, she saw that there was also a light on in the living room, which meant that Mike was probably still awake.
Mike was reading when he heard Jill's crutches on the floor. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway looking at him. "Are you okay?"
"Your . . . knee?" She pointed to the brace on his knee.
"It's an old injury that I aggravated tonight," he explained.
"Football?"
"No, stock car," he made a reference to Lee Borden striking him while he had Jill as a hostage in a stolen stock car. "Are you hungry?"
"No."
"Thirsty?"
"No."
"Okay, I'm going to take a wild guess and say bad dream."
"I . . . don't know. Do . . . I have . . . a lot of . . . them?"
"Yeah."
"I scream?"
"Sometimes," he admitted.
"A car . . . blew up."
"In your dream?"
"Yes, but . . . it . . . wasn't . . . like a . . . dream. It was . . . like . . . it was . . . happening."
"You may not be hungry, but I am. Follow me into the kitchen and we'll talk over peanut butter and jelly," he walked to the kitchen as she followed him.
He was deep in thought as he made his sandwich. When Jill had previously stayed in this house, someone had been trying to kill the lieutenant. While he'd been playing chess with the guys and Jill in attendance, the assassin had planted a bomb in his car. She had been in the car with Ryker when he saw the bomb. He'd yanked her from the car just as it exploded. Mike figured that everything tied in with her memories of this house. "You're . . . always . . . hungry," she commented as he was about to take a bite of his sandwich. "How did . . . I know . . . that?"
"Did Willie or Terry tell you?"
"No."
"Do any other flashes come to your mind?"
"I hear . . . songs . . . sometimes. But . . . they're songs . . . that I . . . don't know."
"I'll bring some tapes and a tape player with me tomorrow. Maybe if you hear the songs you'll recognize them. You still don't remember working at Ray's?"
"I keep . . . seeing a . . . trailer."
"You lived in the trailer while you worked at Ray's. It belonged to him and your aunt."
"I want . . . to . . . remember."
"You're starting to. The trailer and the music are a great start," he continued to eat his sandwich. He noticed that she was watching him intently, much as she would when they were first dating. It was as if she was trying to memorize every detail of his face. "What's wrong?"
"Do we . . . touch . . . a lot?"
"Like I told you the other day," he wiped his face with a napkin, "Terry is always saying that we have more ways of holding hands than anybody he's ever met in his life."
"I don't . . . like to . . . be touched," she reminded him.
"We used to talk about that. And it was something that we worked through."
"We touch . . . everywhere?" She looked horrified at the very idea.
"Yes. And we will again. But that can all wait. Right now, I think that we both need to get some sleep because Paul will be here at six sharp."
He lay awake for a long time, listening to see if she needed anything. He thought back to their conversation. The idea that they were intimate was as foreign to her as going to the moon. She'd been much the same way when they'd first starting dating. He smiled as he remembered the first time that he'd ever kissed her. He'd thought that she was going to jump out of his car. She was much the same way the first time they'd ever made love. Thinking about those early days, he fell asleep.
***MJMJMJ***
The next morning, Mike was fixing breakfast when Paul showed up. "How'd it go last night?" He asked as he walked into the kitchen and put his gym bag on a kitchen chair.
"She had some trouble sleeping, but I think it's because she's in a new environment," Mike replied as he set the table. "She's getting dressed. I have to get in the shower so that I can get to work."
He walked into her room before he went to get in the shower. "Is . . . Paul here?" She asked as she pulled her shoes on.
"He just got here," he bent down and tied her shoes. "I have to get in the shower, and then I have to head to work. I'll see you this afternoon and we'll go for a horseback ride. Try not to give Paul too much trouble."
"No more . . . than . . . usual," she grinned as he rolled his eyes. "Mike?"
"Yeah?" He turned from the doorway.
"You can . . . kiss me . . . bye . . . if you . . . want," she smiled shyly.
"I'll see you this afternoon," he walked over and lightly kissed her on the forehead before leaving to take his shower, unable to hide the huge smile on his face as he walked into the bathroom.
Paul worked with her all morning, finally releasing her after lunch. Unlike Mike, Paul wasn't aware of her wandering nature. She took off to explore with the dog at her heels. He didn't become concerned until she'd been gone for over an hour. He walked to the stable, fully expecting to find her visiting with Trap or playing with the dog. He found the caretaker cleaning out the stalls when he walked in. "Have you seen Jill?" He asked when he saw that Jill was nowhere to be seen.
"She took a walk. Don't worry, Domino's with her," Trap told the therapist, as if that made all the difference in the world.
"What if she's lost?"
"You worry too much," Trap scoffed.
"And you're not worrying enough," Paul argued. "What if she's fallen somewhere out there? I'm sure that Mike's told you about the bruises on her arms and legs. She falls a dozen times a day."
"Paul, relax. If Jill gets hurt, Domino will let us know," Trap went back to his chores.
"Are there snakes out there or will Domino protect her from them, too?" Paul asked sarcastically.
"You've obviously never owned a great dog."
***MJMJMJ***
Jill had struggled to walk into the nearby foothills, followed closely by the dog. She stopped in front of a huge oak tree in the middle of a field. The grass around the tree was green and soft. She sat down heavily and with a grateful sigh as the dog flopped down beside her. "Nice tree," she whispered as she yawned sleepily and lay down under the shade tree.
Paul was on the verge of pulling his hair out by the time Mike walked into the house shortly after five that afternoon. Jill had been missing for more than three hours and he'd run out of places to look. "What's wrong?" Mike asked when he saw Paul's agitated state.
"I gave Jill the afternoon off. She went for a walk after lunch and I haven't seen her since. I looked for her, but I came back here in case she came back on her own. When I asked Trap about her, he didn't seem that concerned since the dog is with her. Who the hell does he think that dog is? Lassie?" Paul was now pacing the floor.
"Paul, she can barely walk. How far could she possibly have gone? Relax, I'll saddle up one of the horses and go look for her," Mike left the house and strode toward the stable.
Moments later, he had Ranger saddled and went looking for Jill and the small dog. "Jill!" He called every few minutes as he rode. "Jill! Domino!" He kept calling and whistling as he rode into the foothills. After riding for several minutes, he heard a dog barking. He kicked his heels into the horses' flanks as he rode forward. He was greeted by Domino, who led him over to where Jill was just waking up in the grass. "Jill, are you okay?" He jumped off of the horse and ran over to her. "Paul's worried sick about you. Did you fall?"
"No," she answered as she stared at him in confusion, unsure of why he was making such a fuss. ""I fell . . . asleep. Isn't this . . . a great . . . tree?"
"Yeah, it's okay. Come on, Paul's about to call out the FBI," he helped her to her feet and onto the back of the horse.
"I thought . . . we were . . . going to . . . go riding," she reminded him as he took the reins and began walking back to the house as he led the horse.
"Don't you think you've had enough adventure for one day?"
"Do we . . . have . . . to go . . . right back?"
"Where would milady like to go?" He smiled up at her.
There it was again. That flash of something familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. She remembered several weeks before when she'd had that first flash. That time Mike had said something about a carriage. "Aren't . . . you going . . . to ride? What . . . about . . . your knee?"
"I'll be okay. Here, take these," he handed up her crutches as he once again took the reins.
"Mike . . . what if . . . I fall?" She asked as her face went white with fear.
He took a deep breath as he pondered the dilemma he was facing. As much as he understood her fear, he wasn't sure how his body would react to being in such close proximity to her. But he also knew that for the past five years, he'd always been there when she'd found herself afraid. He made a mental note to keep his hormones under control as he climbed up behind her on the horse. Wrapping one arm tightly around her waist, he took the reins in his hands as they began the slow ride back to the house.