by Jeannie Watt
Drew parked next to his brother-in-law’s shop a few minutes before Maddie’s school bus was due to arrive at three thirty. Pete, who was elbow-deep in a trash pump repair, gave him a grunt of greeting.
Earlier that morning, as soon as Maddie had caught the bus to school and Cara had taken off for work, they’d winched the Jeep up the side of the mountain and towed it to the shop, where it now sat, listing sadly on its axles.
Drew was going to have to explain to his daughter about the accident and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Maddie was a resilient kid, but she’d lost her mother, had nearly lost her father, and she didn’t need to hear that she’d almost lost him again. He wouldn’t exactly lie, but he was going to gloss over a few things. Pretty much, he’d almost hit a deer and had a little accident. Then he’d come up with a way to distract her.
“Doing okay?” Pete asked as he finished ratcheting a bolt into place.
Drew idly rubbed his left shoulder, testing for pain. The bumps and bruises from his deer encounter were nothing compared to the percussion injuries he’d suffered in Afghanistan. Injuries he’d ignored as he’d done what he could to help pull his buddies from the wreckage—it was only afterward that his body had shut down. The doctors had been amazed at what he’d managed to do despite a gaping head wound, broken ribs and a punctured lung. Sheer adrenaline had carried him through—then abandoned him. He’d gone into shock, waking up in the hospital to the news that he’d lost three friends.
He swallowed dryly. “I’m good. Not looking forward to explaining to Mads.”
“Understandable.” Pete put down the wrench and got to his feet, dusting off his hands on his jeans.
Maddie essentially had three parents now. Pete—Lissa’s brother—and his wife Cara had taken Maddie in after Lissa’s death, with the idea that she’d stay with them until Drew’s tour of duty ended. Then came the blast, the hospital stay, followed by five more months of duty. And the nightmares. He’d had to confess those to Pete and Cara when he’d arrived back in Eagle Valley four months ago, and he’d confessed about the one he’d had a few nights ago—which was why Maddie wouldn’t be staying with him as much as she hoped during the summer.
Pete jerked his head toward the line of lawn mowers near the bay door. “Those are all yours.”
“I’ll take a few with me today, pick the rest up tomorrow.”
The school bus rumbled up to the end of the driveway and the door opened with a hydraulic hiss. A few seconds later, Maddie came around the nose of the bus and headed for the shop, her expression brightening when she saw Drew step out of the bay door.
“Dad!”
His heart twisted, as it always did at the sight of his beautiful daughter. “Hey, tiger.” Before he’d left for his last tour of duty, he’d swung her up in the air when she got home from school and she’d thrown her head back and laughed. Now she was twelve, almost thirteen, and swinging in the air was no longer the thing to do. Instead they bumped fists and then she gave him a bear hug.
“Can I stay with you this weekend?” she asked, tilting her head back to look up at him. It was all Drew could do not to push her glasses a little farther up her nose. Lissa had had the same problem. Glasses simply hadn’t stayed in place.
Before he could answer, tell her that she wouldn’t be staying overnight, her eyes went wide. “What happened to the Jeep?”
Pete and Drew exchanged quick glances, then Drew said, “I swerved to hit a deer yesterday.”
“And wrecked the Jeep?”
Maddie sounded horrified, so he made an extra effort to sound casual. “It was rainy. It slid off the road.”
Maddie headed for the vehicle, her backpack bouncing on her back. She inspected the damage with a critical eye, making Drew glad that the Jeep was topless. As it was, she had no way of knowing it’d rolled. “Are you going to be able to fix it, Uncle Pete?”
“It’ll be better than it was when I get done with it.”
“Good.” She turned back to Drew. “Is the deer all right?”
He almost laughed. “Yeah, honey. I swerved, remember?”
“Good. Sorry about the Jeep, but glad about the deer.” She gave her father a sidelong look. “Does this mean I won’t be spending the night this weekend?”
Maddie knew about his nightmares, knew why he spent his nights alone. She was also convinced that if she moved in, then he wouldn’t have them anymore. “Because you’ll have me there,” she’d told him a few months ago, after his discharge.
“I just...think it would be best. But we can have pizza tonight, and I’ll get you first thing in the morning.”
Maddie didn’t argue. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue. “Okay, but it really has to be first thing.”
“How does 6:00 a.m. sound?”
“Horrible,” Pete muttered.
“Ignore him,” Maddie said with a grin. “I’ll be waiting on the porch.”
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES TO quitting time. Faith pulled her attention back to the open folder in front of her. A big part of her job involved pulling old files and scanning the information into digital format so that alumni who’d graduated prior to the digital age could have easy access to their records.
Faith doubted that she would have liked the job before the assault. She’d enjoyed interacting with people, but now she preferred being alone, having minimal contact with her fellow employees. Working her way through the archives while listening to music. Essentially hiding from the world. The job made her feel safe, but the hours did seem to drag on.
“Faith?”
Her head jerked up at the sound of her boss’s voice, and her heart did a guilty double beat—which wasn’t fair. It sucked being caught between a rock and a hard place. But if push came to shove, she owed more loyalty to Debra than to her brother...even if, hands down, she preferred the man who reminded her of her attacker. What did that say about her?
That she liked having a job in safe surroundings.
“Yes?” She forced a bright note into her voice while wondering if she was about to be taken down for hiding vital information from her superior.
Debra glanced at the clock. “Would you stop by my office before you go home?”
“Certainly. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.” Debra didn’t bother with her fake smile, which made Faith’s stomach tighten a little more. After Debra left, she closed the file. She’d worked through her break, as she often did—it wasn’t like she really needed to sit in the small staff room and socialize—so she wasn’t cheating the college by leaving early. She’d put in her hours.
What now? She let her head fall back, tried to remember a time when she hadn’t automatically expected the worst.
Actually, it was very easy to remember that time—it was her entire life up until the assault had shifted her perspective. She was getting damned tired of shifted perspective.
Faith set the closed file on top of her Done pile and pushed her chair away from her desk. Why wait to find out what Debra wanted? If it was bad news, then she might as well get it now. She grabbed her purse, locked the door to her small basement office and headed for the stairs rather than the elevator. When she reached the registrar’s office, she gave a quick rap on the open inner-office door. Debra looked up, then waved her inside.
“Please close the door.”
Faith already had it half-shut.
“My brother told me about his accident—and your part in aiding him. Thank you.”
Relief washed over her. Drew Miller had been as good as his word. “I’m glad you understand. I didn’t feel right keeping the matter quiet, but he wanted to tell you himself.”
“I do understand.” Debra gave her shoulders an odd little roll before meeting Faith’s gaze. “However...in the future...if something of a serious nature occurs, I would very much appr
eciate a heads-up. Just a hint that I should be aware that all is not well in my brother’s life. You don’t have to spill all the beans—just let me know I need to look into things.”
The warm feeling of relief had started evaporating at the word however, and by the time Debra was done speaking, Faith was once again in defensive mode.
“I can’t get involved in your family matters.” She should have made this position clear from the very beginning, shouldn’t have agreed to meet Debra’s brother, but she’d caved to stay on Debra’s good side—and because she believed in equine therapy. Now she regretted that decision.
“I’m not asking you as a boss. Please understand that.” Faith’s eyebrows rose. “Drew is not the man he used to be and until he is...well, it would help me to know what’s going on. So that I can help him.”
A hard knot was forming in Faith’s stomach. “I doubt I’ll see your brother again.”
“That’s very possible. But...” Debra’s expression became even more serious and there was a faint pleading note in her voice as she said, “You are his neighbor, and if you notice anything unusual, will you please tell me? I’m worried about Drew. I want him to get better.”
Faith sucked in a breath. “I don’t think I’ll see Drew,” she repeated, hoping that Debra would believe her. “However, I will tell you if I notice anything disturbing.”
As in very disturbing. Call-the-sheriff disturbing. Otherwise, she was not getting involved.
“Thank you.” Debra smiled in a grateful kind of way.
“Of course.”
Faith was almost to the door when Debra said, “Faith? Please understand how much I appreciate this. I won’t forget your help.”
Faith gave a quick nod and left the office, wondering what would happen if she did know about something and kept her mouth shut. Deb might not take overt action, but she could make Faith miserable. That said, Faith knew with a certainty she wasn’t going to spy on Drew. Her perspective of the man had shifted since the accident. Drew was nothing like her attacker. He was a guy who’d been through hell and was fighting his way back. Even though she’d automatically locked her truck door during their confrontation the night before, she’d started to feel a connection with the man. He understood. She knew that instinctively. And he was hurting, just as she was, which made her wish she hadn’t needed to lock the door to protect herself. That she could allow herself to trust him. That maybe they could share insights.
Nice fantasy, Hartman. Like she was ready to open up to a virtual stranger.
But you did. Last night.
Faith shushed her small voice, unlocked her truck and got inside, tossing her tote onto the passenger seat. She’d continue to handle things in the safest way possible—alone.
As soon as she got home, Faith set up the barrels in the arena and saddled Tommy, her black-and-white paint barrel horse. She needed to blow off some steam after the unsettling day. She had a job where she could earn a decent paycheck with no unexpected triggers, because no one except for Debra and the occasional administrative associate ever ventured into her realm. And because her job seemed so perfect, maybe she was imagining threats where there were none.
No maybe about it. She was overreacting. Manufacturing trouble. It wasn’t like Debra could fire her because she didn’t spy on her brother. That was a lawsuit waiting to happen.
If she could prove it.
Tommy was in the mood to run and Faith let him do his thing, losing herself in the moment as she tried to make every run perfect. She’d only run the barrels once or twice a week when she’d been in serious competition, spending most of her training time working on flexing, bending and speed. But she was no longer in serious competition, so she could essentially do whatever she wanted, and tonight, she wanted to run.
When she was done, both she and the gelding were sweating. Their times were improving, and as Faith dismounted, she felt a familiar stirring of resentment. She’d been on track to make the National Finals Rodeo when the attack had taken her out of competition. It was supposed to have been her year. And then her world had been turned inside out by a sicko.
Faith returned to her too-quiet house, Sully close by her side, reminded herself that she liked the quiet and then turned on some music. Maybe it was her encounter with Debra, or maybe it was simply the summer stretching ahead of her without a lot to fill it that had her feeling antsy—at loose ends.
Last summer, she’d been focused on getting her feet back under her, even though it felt like a year should have been a long enough time to get it back together. It hadn’t been.
She’d made two attempts to compete in small rodeos after the anniversary of her attack had passed, having convinced herself everything would somehow be better after the one-year mark. On her first attempt, she hadn’t even made it out of the driveway. On the second, she’d driven to the rodeo, but once there, the sights and sounds—the smells—had brought on a full-fledged panic attack. She’d tried to force things too soon.
Would she try again this year?
She wanted that part of her life back. Deep down, she was still as competitive as hell, and resented not being able to do what she once did so well.
Solution?
She needed to suck it up. Sign up for some rodeos even if she didn’t go...and, if she was serious about returning to competition, she needed to face the unpleasantness of demanding her custom barrel racing saddle back from her ex-boyfriend. The saddle she rode in now was perfectly adequate, but it wasn’t the saddle she’d bought with her winnings. The saddle she’d waited a year to be made and which represented her as a professional. The saddle that she bet Hallie Johnson was probably riding in right now. It hadn’t taken long for Faith’s ex to hook up with the hottest girl on the circuit.
She reached for the phone, then put it back down.
Did she really want to ruin her evening by contacting Jared?
No.
Which was why she didn’t have her saddle back. No night ever seemed worth ruining. A year ago, she hadn’t needed the saddle, so she’d never called. This year...she wasn’t letting herself off the hook.
Faith picked up the phone, found Jared’s name in her contacts and pushed the number. It rang and her heartbeat ratcheted up ever so slightly. Even small confrontations were harder for her than they’d once been. The call went to voice mail, and Faith wondered if it was because he didn’t recognize the number. Or because he did. Maybe Jared didn’t feel like discussing saddles with his ex.
She hesitated, then left a message. “Hey, Jared. It’s Faith. I’m calling to set up a time to get my saddle. Call me back.”
She hung up, glad on the one hand that she’d gotten the ball rolling, nervous now about the return call—which came within minutes.
“Faith! How are you?”
“I’m...better.” Her voice sounded totally normal as she spoke to the guy who’d let her down when she needed him most.
“Still working at the riding stable?”
“No. I got a job at a college. Benefits and everything.”
“Excellent.” He spoke a little too jovially. “You’re calling about the saddle.”
“Yeah. I am.”
Before she could ask him about setting up a time and place to meet, he said, “You know, I’ve been meaning to call you about that saddle. I’d kind of like to buy it from you.”
“Starting a new rodeo career?”
It took him a second to catch on, but when he did, he laughed. “No. I’m not barrel racing. But since you won’t be using it—”
“Who said I won’t be using it?”
There was a healthy pause, then Jared said, “You’re going to start competing again?”
“I might. And even if I don’t, it’s still my saddle and I want it back. For sentimental reasons if nothing else.”
“On the other hand, you could have some col
d hard cash, and that trumps sentiment every time, right?”
“Who has my saddle?”
“Uh...”
“Who, Jared?”
“Does it matter? If you don’t want to sell, I’ll get it to you.”
“Ship it.”
“Ship it? That gets into some serious bucks, babe.”
“You gave my saddle away. Get it back to me or I’ll see you in small-claims court.”
Her heart was hammering, but she also felt empowered. Like her old self.
“Faith—”
“Send it to Eagle Valley Community College. The registrar’s office. I’ll give you the street address when you’re ready.”
“All right.” There was a sullen note to his voice—almost as if he were dreading the task of retrieving her saddle from whomever he’d given it to. Tough. “Give me the address.”
Faith rattled off the address, made him read it back to her, then asked, “When can I expect to receive it?”
“Soon.”
“Give me a ballpark.”
“Give me a break. We both know you’re not going to use it.”
Faith just stopped the screw you from dropping from her lips. “You have two weeks, or I’m going to file the court papers.” Even if it meant traveling to Flathead County, where he now lived.
“Fine.” He hung up without another word, leaving Faith holding her phone, amazed at how good it had felt to stand up for herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
TAKING MADDIE DOWN the mountain to Pete and Cara’s on Saturday afternoon was as hard as ever.
“Next weekend,” he promised as she trudged out of the cabin to the truck.
“Unless something happens.”
There was a sullen note in her voice that Drew chose to ignore. They’d had a good day and would hopefully have another good day on Sunday. After picking her up early that morning—seven, as opposed to six—he’d laid out the drawings Lissa had made of the cabin renovation on the kitchen table and they’d gone over them together.