Page 73 of Shelter for Shay
“I don’t know how to do that,” she whispered.
“I didn’t either,” he said. “Not after the shit I went through. Not until I found people who saw more than the damage.”
Shay swallowed hard. “Like Henley?”
“Yeah. And Brick. Tonka. Pipe. Everyone here at The Refuge. They didn’t try to fix me. They just reminded me I was worth sticking around for.” He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You are, too.”
Her lip trembled. “You really believe that?”
“I don’t believe it. Iknowit.”
A shaky breath escaped her. She leaned into his touch. “I love you,” she said quietly.
His eyes softened. “I love you too.”
“But what happens when my time is up here?” She blinked. “I don’t think I can just go back to Lake George. Not now. Not with everything that happened.”
“You don’t have to,” he said with a small smile. “You have a place with me in Virginia. With the chickens you can pretend you hate since they will grow on you once you meet them and get to know them.”
She laughed—fragile but real.
“There’s still so much left to deal with?—”
“And we’ll handle it all… together,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Unfortunately, you will have to go back to work… back to deployments… and I’ll have to…”
“Shay,” he said softly. “I know this is hard. I know you’re scared. But I’m not going to vanish. I’m with you. I promise you that this will get easier and when it’s time to leave, Danni will help you adjust. I told you she’s been through something similar. You, sweetheart, are not alone. Never again will you be alone.”
She sank into his body, resting her head on his shoulder. “I wonder who will be a better listener, Henley or your damn chickens.”
“Humor is good.” He kissed her temple. “But hands down, the chickens are better.”
And with that, she closed her eyes and did her best to let sleep come, refusing to be haunted by gunfire or blood.
Only warmth and a man who refused to let her go.
19
SHAY – A WEEK LATER… | THE REFUGE, NEW MEXICO
The desert wind whispered through the cottonwoods, tugging at the wind chimes that hung from the porch beam. A soft tinkling drifted through the open door, mingling with the warm scent of sage and sun-dried earth.
Shay sat cross-legged on a cushioned chair in Henley’s office, a mug of chamomile tea cooling in her hands. The room was simple—earth-toned walls, worn wood floors, soft light. No clocks. No buzzing electronics. Just peace.
Or at least the illusion of it.
Henley sat across from her in a matching chair, legs tucked up, notebook closed on the table beside her. “You slept last night.”
It wasn’t a question, but Shay nodded anyway. “For the first time in… a while… not a single nightmare.”
“Your shoulders aren’t so high, either.”
Shay gave a tired smile. “I still feel like they’re hovering around my ears most of the day.”
“That’s normal,” Henley said gently. “You went through something that would’ve broken most people.”
“I feel like pieces of me are coming back together, snapping into place where they belong, but not the same way as before,”Shay murmured. “Like… different… but the same. Like the ground under me shifted, and I’m still trying to find where I stand.”
