Whirlwind by Nancy Martin Page A

held Alyssa’s basket. It was being around people that frightened him. He knew he was capable of doing terrible things to his fellow man.
    And Liza. She had the power to push him over the edge, Cliff decided. Not knowing the kind of horror she would unleash, she’d taunt and torment and goad him until he exploded. What might he do to her if he went crazy? The thought terrified him.
    Alyssa straightened and read his expression. Alarmed, she put her hand on his arm and said, “Cliff?”
    He shook off her touch. “I’m sorry. I’m—I’m not...”
    â€œWhat can I do to help?”
    Nothing, of course. Just stay away, he wanted to tell her. Get your headstrong daughter out of the lodge before I do something insane.
    But he didn’t say that. He wasn’t capable of expressing those feelings, not even to Alyssa, who’d been a kind of therapist for him over the years, whether she knew it or not. Alyssa had accepted Cliff from the beginning without making demands on him. She had not insisted that he talk. Nor had she forced him to spill his guts and explain himself to her. She’d simply taken him into her life the way hewas—broken and frightened of the world. And of himself, maybe.
    She said, “Don’t be upset.”
    A lot of responses boiled in his head, fighting to get out. But he said on a tight sigh, “Sometimes I just want to forget everything.”
    â€œYou will. You’ll get over it, Cliff.”
    â€œShould I?” he asked, half to himself. “Should I keep trying to put it in my past?”
    Alyssa sighed, too, sounding troubled. “I don’t know what to tell you. Some people think it’s best to confront the worst, but I...well, I’m not an expert. I just hate seeing you so distressed, Cliff. Every time you start thinking about what happened over there...”
    â€œI did some bad things,” he said, closing his eyes and letting the sunlight warm his face. “I don’t want to be that way again.”
    â€œYou won’t!” In a rush, Alyssa said, “Cliff, that was a terrible time. You did what you had to do to protect people you cared about.”
    Alyssa said more, but Cliff had stopped listening. She didn’t know everything. Not the worst, anyway. She knew why he’d gone into the hills and befriended the people of that mountain village. She knew how he’d found himself trapped with them when the enemy struck. He’d learned from the Hmongs and taught them his own skills, and they’d fought together. They’d managed to find escape routes for women and children.
    But after that...well, he’d been unable to tell Alyssa the rest of his story. Perhaps she could guess the kinds of atrocities he’d seen. Maybe she imagined what he’d done to survive and to shepherd the innocents to safety. But Cliff couldn’t bring himself to tell gentle Alyssa Baron about the nightmare he’d lived in Cambodia.
    Nor could he tell her how terrified he was that it mighthappen all over again—that the bonds of reason might snap inside him and trigger something horrible.
    Alyssa’s hand was on his arm again, and she shook him. “Cliff,” she said severely, “stop thinking like that! Stop it! You’re only making it worse for yourself!”
    Maybe she was right. With an effort, Cliff pulled his mind back from the quagmire of his past.
    â€œI’ll be okay,” he said.
    She smiled up at him, kindhearted and beautiful. “I know you will.”
    Cliff left her on the hillside picking flowers. He didn’t tell her about Liza.
    He returned to the lodge a couple of hours later. He didn’t keep track of time, but his stomach started growling, so he headed back through the woods, not sure what lay ahead.
    He found Liza on the wide front porch. She’d dragged one of the old wicker chairs outside and sat in it with her bare feet propped up on the railing,