Free Secrets by Lynn Crandall Page B

remembered the reason she’d come outside and realized her presence here would deter hungry cats and kittens. With one last look around, she walked inside.
    Jojo jumped into a kitchen chair, meowing, while Tiger stared at Michelle. “Hi, guys.” At the sound of the kibble pouring, Izabelle and Munchy joined the gathering. Taking care of her own cats wouldn’t make the transition for Ally any easier, but it did relieve the scrambling helplessness in her body. She knew some of that fear belonged to Ally. But she also knew it sent her own fears up an octave, as well.
    Suddenly she was there again. The scent of the college man’s cologne in her head. Trembling, shaking, as she did that night on the quad in her freshman year when the son of a well-known and prosperous local businessman pushed her to a secluded spot and forced her to the ground. Helpless, she’d tried to scream, but he’d covered her mouth and threatened to kill her with the knife in his other hand.
    She’d tried to scramble away, kicked and shoved. That knife came close to her throat and she’d gone limp.
    Panic bloomed in her chest as she stood in her kitchen, reliving the moment. He’d taken so much from her that night. And then the trial had taken what was left—all her sense of herself, her confidence, her pleasure in relationships, her security—and replaced it all with shame and fear. Her counselor had told her those feelings were normal responses for rape victims.
At least I’m normal,
she thought wryly.
    Her only choice was to move on despite his acquittal and live as though injustice didn’t matter. Every thought of the grin on his face when he walked out of the courtroom stabbed her like knives. The memory pulled at her arms to circle her body.
    She shook her head.
No. I will not do this.
    She reached for salvation from a window, pushing it up and grabbing the cool air from outside to fill her lungs. Another shake of her long hair—an attempt to bring herself to the present moment—and the impressions from the past began to fade. She gripped the windowsill, willing for a complete return to the now. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she held her breath. Something large, something furry, something gorgeous slipped through the hedge and stopped in the middle of the yard. The lynx sat, his eyes luminous, and cocked his head one way and then the other. He emanated peace and serenity. She allowed it in and she soaked in it, completely silent. She didn’t need to say a word. His confidence spoke for her. He didn’t need assurances, but he gave them to her, miraculously.
    Without fear, she smiled at him. The animal chuffed, once, twice. Then he trotted off, turning back once, then slipping through the hedge and into the night. Was the lynx limping? The thought of an injury made her scowl. She wanted to help, but of course that wouldn’t be possible. She walked outside anyway.
    Seconds later, a loud yelping cry from the field prickled her skin. More wild yowl than growl, the sound echoed loudly, profoundly. Goosebumps prickled her skin. She crouched under the hedge and walked a few steps into the field, her eyes peering into the darkness for the lynx, just to make sure the animal wasn’t hurt. But if he was out there among the grasses and trees, he was well camouflaged and she couldn’t see him.
    Curious thoughts skipped through her mind. His presence was illogical, and yet he had visited again. His behavior wasn’t normal, and yet it seemed deliberate. The moment settled inside her, strange, warm, and comfortable.
    Too early and too awake for her to even think of sleeping, Michelle grabbed her laptop and walked to her bedroom. She carefully plopped down onto her bed and let her cats find places to settle in while she clicked on her search engine and typed in “Lynx.” Scanning the list of search results, she chose one with images and information from a wildlife refuge.
    When the image of a lynx opened, she sat straight. “That’s the