In the Woods Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘What ways?’
    â€˜You already know about the lemon. The taste shocks me back into the present.’
    â€˜So you didn’t you have your lemon with you this morning?’
    â€˜I did. In my vest pocket. But I didn’t have time, Hank. I saw him and reacted.’
    â€˜But you had a lemon ready to use?’
    â€˜Of course.’ She always did. She carried lemons the way other women carried lip gloss. Standard operating equipment.
    â€˜What else works? Besides a lemon?’ His eyes were steely, probing.
    â€˜Why are you questioning me? Are you angry? You sound angry.’
    Hank crossed his arms. ‘I’m not angry, Harper. I just need information. Tell me what else works?’
    Harper sat rigid. She didn’t want to argue with Hank, but he was pushing her on a topic she tried to avoid. Besides, they had to get going and alert authorities that a man had been killed. Why was Hank choosing this particular moment to discuss her PTSD? Damn. She saw the determination in his eyes. Resisting would be futile. She took a breath, rattled off her response. ‘I can inhale a sharp scent, like smelling salts. Or cause pain by biting my lip or jabbing myself with a sharp object – any intense sensory stimulation will help ground me in the present moment by shocking me out of the flashback. If I don’t have any shockers to work with, I can use my own mind and concentrate on some physical aspect of the present moment. Like counting the tiles on a wall or—’
    â€˜Okay, I get it. Why didn’t anything work today?’
    â€˜Because today, I came upon a dead body unexpectedly. It triggered a flashback so quickly that I was in it before I could try to prevent it.’
    Hank looked away. Looked back at Harper. Met her eyes. Took her hand. ‘Okay. I need to understand this, Harper. The PTSD. You need to talk to me and be more open about it—’
    â€˜I don’t like to—’
    â€˜Hold on. Don’t interrupt. For much of the time we’ve been together, you’ve been the caretaker. You’ve been the tough one. And you’ve put your problems aside. But, Harper, you don’t have to deal with them alone. I’m healthy again. And I’m your husband. It’s okay to let me inside those walls.’
    Harper didn’t say anything, but she felt a heaviness lift, rising out of her belly, passing through her shoulders. She looked at Hank, but he’d become blurry. Damn. She puffed her nostrils, took in air. Blinked tears away. She was not going to get all wimpy and cry.
    â€˜For now, though, for this trip, I think the best way to make sure another flashback doesn’t occur is for you to stick close to me.’
    Harper sniffed, nodded. ‘Fine.’
    â€˜And keep your lemon handy.’
    She nodded again, ready to go.
    â€˜Somebody shot that guy, Harper. It might have been an accident, but just in case … I don’t want you flashing back to Iraq if real bullets are flying.’ Hank leaned over, kissed her, and stood, still holding her hand. ‘Ready?’
    She felt like a bobble-head, nodding again. But finally, they were on their way.
    The forest ranger called the Philipsburg police captain on a landline. Harper and Hank sat on a bench outside the ranger’s station at the campground, waiting for him to arrive. A few people walked by, on the way to their RVs, the convenience store, the snack shop next to the ranger’s office. A woman sat at a picnic bench, eating a pepper and egg sandwich, staring at them.
    â€˜Why is she staring at us?’ Harper nudged Hank.
    Hank didn’t turn his head to look. ‘Don’t know. But who can blame her? We’re pretty dammed hot.’
    The woman chewed, watching them.
    â€˜Seriously, Hank. She’s bugging me out.’
    â€˜Ignore her.’
    Harper tried to ignore her. She looked at Hank’s hands. She loved those hands. They were muscular,