Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(105)

He smiled at her and kissed her cheeks one at a time, softly, gently. “We have to be together. If we just bring each other a ton of bad luck, we’ll need someone to hang on to through it.”

“God,” she said, laying her head against him again, crying. “I didn’t want you to ever see me cry again,” she sobbed. “I hate being a wimpy girl.”

“You’re not. I wish I was as strong as you. I don’t know why I couldn’t get it together. Jesus, I just couldn’t get any of it, you know? You better understand something, Liz—I’m never going to be like I was. I’m never going to be that kid that just grins through every ugly thing. That part of my life got blown up.”

She leaned away from him. “Really? And you think I didn’t get blown up, too?” She shook her head. “Jack said, when a soldier gets wounded, everyone who loves him gets wounded.”

“Jack,” he said, as if he just thought of him. “Aw, Jesus, Jack.”

“What, Rick?”

“Oh man. Did he ever say anything to you about me?”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like he was counting the minutes till he could put me down like a sick dog?”

“Jack? Of course not. He’s been worried, I know that….”

“If you think I treated you bad, I treated Jack worse. God, I don’t know how to fix that up.”

“You better fix this up first,” she said with an assertiveness he was unaccustomed to in her.

“Huh? Didn’t I?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to go back and forth on this, and just because you feel guilty about yelling at me doesn’t mean we’re okay. We have problems, you and me. Like you said, we’re so screwed up. I want to get out of this mess and be as much like regular people as we can. When the baby died, the school counselor got me a therapist who helped me with that and after a while, I could talk about it without being angry, without crying. That’s what I want for us, Rick. I don’t want to always be scared that you’re going to leave me any second.”

“We’ll work at that,” he said. “We’ll do a lot of talking. But I gotta—”

“I have the same therapist now, getting me through this thing with you. I want you to go with me.”

He shrugged. What was one more counselor? “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“He’s nice. He’s helped me so much. He’s kind of goofy, but you might like him. Never mind what you think of him—just go along. The work is going to be you and me, getting on track.”

“Did he tell you that? That if we got back together, we should have counseling?”

“He did,” she said with a nod. “And I think he’s right. No way I could have gotten through the past few months without him. If it hadn’t worked for me before, I probably wouldn’t insist on this, but I’m a believer now.”

“Sure. Okay.”

“And promise you won’t make fun of him. Just put out of your mind that he’s strange and listen and talk. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rick agreed. “What’s so strange about him?” Rick asked, thinking about adding another weirdo into the mix. But what the hell, his weirdo had worked out.

“Well, he’s funny looking. Tall and skinny with big ears and a long, hooked nose. And he thinks he was abducted by aliens.”

Rick pulled back, holding Liz’s upper arms. His face was frozen in shock for a moment, then a huge laugh erupted from him. “You are f**king kidding me!”

“Oh, I see how it is—you can use the F word whenever you want…”

“Jerry Powell? Liz, that’s who I’ve been seeing!”

“Come on,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That’s the nutcase that got me this far. Honest to God, sometimes I hate that psycho—but I have to admit, it’s helped, though I sure couldn’t tell you how.” He laughed again. “Yeah, I’ll see Mr. Spaceman with you. Can we merge our appointments so I don’t have to put up with him three or four times a week?”

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me,” she said, shaking her head.

“Liz, it’s the rules. He doesn’t talk about patients.” He couldn’t stop laughing and it felt both strange and familiar at the same time. He used to be a laughing fool. Lately he’d found it hard to find humor in anything. “What a kick. Come on, Liz, I gotta get the truck back.”

“The truck?” she asked.

“Yeah. Guy at the bar—Dan—he loaned me his truck.”

“You drove?”

“How did you think I got here?” he asked.

“I figured Jack was waiting on the road.”

“Nah. Old Dan, he picked a fight with me. He didn’t like how I was treating you and he was right. Also, he took off his leg. I had no idea he was an amputee. That showed me.” He shook his head. “People have been talking to me for months, and they weren’t all able-bodied like our whack job Powell or Jack—I was in group therapy with amputees who made it all look easy. But something about today changed everything. I’m going to figure out what after I try to apologize to Jack and return the truck.”