Free From the Heart: Romance, Mystery and Suspense a collection for everyone by Lorhainne Eckhart Page A

back in his chair, but she could still feel him wound up tighter than a steel coil. “Hmm, mmm.”
    “Okay I just need to say this. You know how you keep getting after Trevor when he does something like dump over a plant and play in the dirt, or the way he latched onto that lady like a human leech?”
    He brushed his hand in the air to dismiss her words. “Come on, Emily, he’s just a boy, doing little boy things. Don’t worry about it. Girls are different, they’re easier, just ask my mother.”
    He truly didn’t see anything was wrong. “Trevor doesn’t talk, he avoids eye contact, sits lost in his own world and uses a one -word vocabulary, of maybe fifty words total. He has full-blown tantrums on the floor, pounding and screaming. And I don’t know what’s going to set him off. Could be the wrong food, something was moved or a stranger comes to visit. Trips to stores are a nightmare and my anxiety level goes through the roof because I’m anticipating what he’s going to do. He’s urinated on the floor in the middle of the grocery store; he had a meltdown in the checkout lane, and runs his fingers over the conveyor belt where you put your food during checkout. Storekeepers get mad. If I grab his hand to get him to stop, he might scream. Depends on the day, what he’s eaten and what’s happened before we get to the store. I never know what will set him off.” Brad tilted his head, tapped his forefinger against his lips. Emily continued. “You can’t reason with him. And the way he stares, he doesn’t appear to understand. He plays alone and will not play with Katy, no matter how much we try; he moves away if she invades his space. I turn the television on; he loves it. It’s like he’s consumed by it and even then, he can’t sit still. He’ll stand in front it jumping, laughing and giggling, engrossed in the rainbow of colors flashing over the screen. I’m betting if you took Trevor to a family gathering or big social event, it’d most likely be a nightmare. His behavior’s odd. People get weirded out because they don’t know what to do. And I’m pretty sure he picks up on everyone’s anxiety. There are safety issues with Trevor, beyond the scope of a typical three-year-old. I always worry while in town if Trevor will dart out into the street. He doesn’t recognize cars, traffic or even people around him. He touched the hot stove last week and burned his finger. He never cried; no reaction. Brad, I started researching his symptoms. The internet is full of information and what I discovered were symptoms of autism.
    Brad rose and paced, running his fingers through his hair.
    Emily forged on. “Autistic children are not all the same, they have different symptoms. I’ve read about therapy for autistic children—therapy tailored for each individual child.”
    Even in this dim light, Emily glimpsed the color rising in his cheeks. Brad wasn’t just pacing , and she could feel the adrenaline cut through the space between them. “I need some air.”
    “Brad, wait!”
    “No Em, back off.” He kept going, down the stairs toward the barn, as she could almost feel the rage burning through him.
    He knew. She’d gotten through. Now the real work begins.

Chapter Thirteen
    Bright red numbers flashed 4:39 a.m. on the bedside clock. The rooster crowed. She heard a rustling coming from downstairs. Emily slipped out of bed, pulled on her brown housecoat, the one she kept draped at the foot of her bed. Guided by the hall nightlight, Emily tiptoed to the stairs.
    A silhouette of light trickled from the kitchen.
    Emily held the cedar handrail as she crept barefoot down the stairs. Brad held the glass carafe from the coffee maker as he fumbled for the coffee in the cupboard. He reeked of booze and wore the same brown plaid shirt from yesterday. Dark stubble covered his cheeks, his chin. His short hair stuck up clumps and tufts. She touched his hand and gently took the carafe. He stared straight ahead, and then