What about playing nursemaid to the kids if they get a cut or bruise?”
“My E.R. background can take care of just about anything that comes up without any problem.”
“Are you afraid to work around wild animals?”
No. Just human animals. Sky compressed her lips and shook her head. “I’m not afraid of animals, Iris.”
“With your Native American blood, I’m guessing that nature and anything livin’ in it would appeal to you?”
“I love being outdoors,” Sky whispered, suddenly emotional. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and forced them back. “I live to breathe fresh air, feel the wind on my face, the warmth of sun on my skin. I love all animals. I respect them.” And in the two weeks she’d endured torture, it had been in a cold, damp, airless room without any windows.
“Thought you might,” Iris said with a grin. “It’s in your blood. In your bones.”
“Yes,” Sky said with a slight smile.
“How are you at getting along with men?”
The question startled Sky. She saw the bulldog set of Iris’s expression. “Why...er...fine. I was in the military, and although I was a nurse, I worked around far more men than women without any problem.”
“I see.” Iris tapped the résumé. “If you were doing so well in the Navy, why’d you leave it, Sky?”
Her throat tightened. Her fingers clenched the leather purse in her lap. Sky was about to give her a standard, pat answer, but something warned her to be honest with Iris. Was it because the woman was so nurturing and warm? “Well,” she choked out, “I actually received an honorable medical discharge. I—I didn’t want to leave the Navy, but I had to.”
Iris sat up, studying her in the thickening silence. “Can you tell me why you received that kind of a discharge? Did you have some kind of health condition that wouldn’t allow you to continue being a Navy nurse?”
Sky knew in her heart that the job was hers if she just came clean. There was something magical about Iris Mason. The feeling that she wouldn’t hold the truth against her gave Sky the courage to answer her.
SKY TOOK A deep breath. Iris was the only other person, besides her parents, that she would tell. Too afraid of judgment from others, Sky evaded and avoided the truth at every turn with everyone. Even her father, who had told her to grow up and take it like a man. She licked her lower lip, and the words came out in a strained whisper. “I was in a helicopter crash and was one of the two survivors. I was then captured by the Taliban.” Her brows dipped, and she closed her eyes for a moment, all the terrifying emotions welling up inside her as she brought it all back. “I—uh...I was tortured for two weeks before a SEAL rescue team found me.” Lifting her head, Sky tried to steel herself for a reaction similar to her father’s. Instead, she saw nothing but sympathy in Iris Mason’s wrinkled face.
“I’m so sorry,” Iris said, her voice heavy with regret. “Do you have any physical problems because of it?”
Sky shook her head. “No...none. I’m a hard worker, Iris. I love outdoor, physical work. It actually helps me....”
Iris nodded, frowning and giving her a patient look. “It took a lot of courage to tell me this.”
Her fingers knotted a frayed thread on the edge of her purse. “Yes, ma’am...I mean...Iris.” Sky wanted to cry because Iris’s reaction was the same as her mother’s. It gave her the courage to look up and meet the elder’s darkened gaze. “You should know,” she went on, “that I have PTSD. The six months I was at Balboa Naval Hospital I received therapy for it.”
Iris nodded. “You’ll be glad to know you have company here on the ranch. Gray McCoy, the man who runs my wildlife center, is an ex–Navy SEAL. He has PTSD, too.”
Sky’s eyes widened, and she stared over the desk at Iris. “Really?” He was in the military. In the Navy. She knew a lot about the SEALs because so often these operators were wounded in action and arrived at her E.R. at Bagram. They were true heroes in her eyes. Men made of flesh and bone with lions’ hearts. She’d treated them over the years and had come to admire and respect them for their courage, their grit and toughness.
“Really,” Iris murmured. “Can you still operate with people, around children and babies, with your PTSD?”
“Yes, I can.”
“What can’t you do?”
Sky liked her question. “I, um, don’t do well in dark, enclosed spaces that have no fresh air.”
“Crowds?”
Sky shrugged. “I don’t like going into a movie or restaurant that’s full of people.”
“Would six dude-ranch families be too much for you to be around?”
“No.” And Sky’s mouth drew up a little. “Besides, I love kids. And babies. I never feel anxiety around them. Just...crowds.”
“I like your honesty, Sky. It becomes you.”
“Thank you. I feel as if I can trust you. I don’t know why, but I do. I don’t want to be hired without you knowing that....”
“I’ve got a small office in back,” Iris said, pointing behind her. “I was thinking it could be used as a medical office.”
“Does it have at least one window?”
She nodded. “Has two. That work for you?”
“Yes, that would work. Thank you.”
“What kind of symptoms do you have, Sky?”
“Nightmares,” she admitted, scowling. “I have them a lot, and I wake up screaming.”
“Well, Gray and you have another thing in common—nightmares.”
Sky almost felt as if she already knew this man. “I feel for him,” she said. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”
“Do you lose a lot of sleep because of it?”
“I get between three and five hours of sleep a night.” Sky shrugged. “I’m a nurse, and I hate taking drugs. I refuse to take sleep medication. My mother told me a long time ago that dreams were a way of healing ourselves, and I believe her. If I take sleep meds, I don’t dream. I guess I’d rather tough through the nightmares because sooner or later, the trauma will defuse itself through them, and I’ll be free. I hope.”
“You and I hate drugs,” Iris murmured, amusement in her eyes. “I have no problem with you having nightmares and not wanting to take meds to knock you out.”
“Good.”
“Any other symptoms I should know about?”
“I get panic attacks if I’m in a small, dark room.”
“What else?”
Sky bit down on her lower lip, her lashes sweeping downward. Iris was acting as if none of this bothered her. Was she really contemplating hiring her? How much should she divulge? Fear gnawed at her. “I get anxiety when I’m overly stressed.”
“Can you give me an example of it, Sky?”
She lifted her lashes and raised her head. “I got hired at a hospital over in Casper when I got released from the Navy. I found out very quickly I couldn’t stand the constant stress of E.R. work like I had before. I get rattled, and I’m no longer cool, calm or collected in that circumstance.”
“The stress level around here on a scale of 1 to 10 is a 3. Can you handle that?”
“Sure.”
“Good,”