Her Mountain Sanctuary

by Jeannie Watt

  “I like her handwriting,” Maddie said at one point, and Drew agreed. Lissa had had a funky offbeat style, half-cursive, half-print. And, crazy thing, if he closed his eyes, he swore he could smell her scent on the paper. It was as if the three of them were together again.

  They hadn’t had enough time as a family, and if he had it to do over again, he probably wouldn’t have gone career military. He would have done his first tour, then found work as a contractor or something.

  But he’d made his choice, back when he was young and invincible, and his only regret, really, was the time he hadn’t gotten to spend with his family. That was now one giant regret.

  “If something happens, we’ll deal with it.”

  “I want to spend more time with you.”

  And I want to stop feeling like a failure of a dad. They were a family again, but they weren’t.

  “I’m not afraid of your stupid dreams.”

  I am.

  “Maddie... I can’t explain everything, because I don’t understand everything, but give me a little more time, okay?”

  “One of my friends told me that you’re crazy. That’s why I don’t live with you.”

  “I’m not crazy.” Even though your Aunt Deb thinks I’m close.

  “I know that.” Maddie shifted in her seat. “That’s my point. We should live together once the cabin is done. Because you’re not crazy and that way everyone will know it.”

  Maddie’s words made him die a little inside. “I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “I want us to be a family as soon as possible.”

  “But it won’t be all that soon.” Before Drew could answer, Maddie asked, “Are you seeing a head doctor?”

  Drew choked back a laugh at her overly serious tone. “I have.”

  “He couldn’t fix the nightmares?”

  “No. He told me some things to try, and I did and they helped, but they didn’t cure me.”

  “You’re probably going to tell me not to get my heart set on anything, right?”

  Drew gave his daughter a quick sideways look. “I want to be a family,” he said quietly. “And we will be.”

  “Yeah.” She turned her head to look straight ahead, but Drew caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. He reached over and touched her knee. Almost immediately, she leaned across the seat so that her head rested on his arm. “I want us to be normal.”

  Drew blinked back his own tears. “We will be. We just need to give it time. We’ll build the cabin and...”

  She raised her head, staring expectantly at him, the tears making her eyes look a darker brown. Like her mother’s eyes.

  “And we’ll think of more things to do.”

  It took her a moment to say, “I’m almost thirteen, and in five years, I’ll be going to college.”

  The thought made his throat start to close. Five years. A heartbeat.

  Yeah. They needed to get normal. Fast.

  * * *

  THE MORE FAITH thought about Jared giving her saddle to some unknown woman, the angrier she got. Although she’d bet a dollar the woman was Hallie Johnson...unless Hallie had gotten tired of him.

  We both know you won’t use it.

  Even if she never used her saddle at a rodeo, she’d use it again. Out of sheer spite, if nothing else.

  After running Tommy through his patterns, then feeding the horses, she went to her computer and looked up the Montana rodeo schedule. Her hands froze on the keyboard when the search came up, but she forced herself to open the page, just as she’d done last year, and look for a rodeo close by. One that still had entries available.

  There were several small rodeos still looking for contestants. All she wanted was a small venue where she could get her feet wet. Run a slow pattern, load Tommy and go home. Once she survived that, then she could think about more serious competition. She might not get to the level she was at before, but she could reclaim the part of her life that the asshole had stolen away from her.

  A part she’d been hiding from and missed dearly.

  Faith closed her laptop. Why couldn’t she get back to her old level? Tommy still had some good years left in him. He was only eight.

  We both know you won’t use it.

  Yeah, Jared? We’ll see about that. All she had to do was make it through that first rodeo and she’d show Jared who would and would not be using her saddle.

  On Sunday morning, Jolie stopped by on her way to the family’s ranch supply store where she worked afternoons doing the books. She was six months pregnant with twins and assured Faith that she was certain that she and her husband were stopping at two kids.

  “What if I got pregnant with twins again?” she asked, pressing her hand against her lower back. “We’d have to get a bigger truck.”

  Faith laughed as she poured herbal tea. Between jobs and pregnancies, she and Jolie didn’t see each other much, but they had the kind of relationship that was easy to pick up whenever they found themselves together.

  She’d thought about asking Jolie to go to her first rodeo with her, but her friend would be seven months pregnant by that time and, honestly? Faith preferred to handle matters alone. It was her way, had always been her way, and when her therapist had encouraged her to reach out to those close to her for help, she’d shuddered at the thought. Faith liked people, loved socializing—or rather, she had—but she dealt with trouble on her own.

  And how’s that working?

  Faith told her inner voice to kindly be quiet and focused on having tea with her friend, catching up on the Brody sisters and anyone else Jolie could think to talk about. She hadn’t mentioned Drew’s accident on the mountain yet, so Faith brought it up, to avoid another situation like that with Debra.

  “He wrecked his Jeep?” Jolie asked on a gasp. “That beautiful classic Jeep?”

  “It looked repairable.”

  Faith went on to describe the wreck, the night, glossing over pretty much everything, and when she was done, Jolie sank back in her chair. “I’m glad he wasn’t hurt. Glad you were there to help.”

  “So am I,” Faith replied. And she was. He would have been in trouble without her. It was the aftermath with his sister that had caused her grief.

  “I know you know Drew, but what about his sister?”

  “Your boss?” Jolie asked with a quirky half smile.

  “That’s the one.”

  “She was on the cheer squad with me. Tried to be everyone’s boss. I didn’t like her.”

  Faith bit her lip.

  “Go on. You can say it. You don’t like her either.”

  “I guess I’m asking if her bark is worse than her bite?”

  Jolie considered the question for a second or two. “For the most part, yes, unless she’s embarrassed in some way. Then she seriously lashes out. Or she used to. Maybe she’s changed in the last decade.” Jolie brought her cup to her lips, took a sip, then asked, “Trouble?”

  “No. She asked me to meet with Drew about equine therapy. He turned me down. I’m thinking I shouldn’t have said yes to the meeting. That it would have been better to keep everything on a professional level.”

  “It’s a small town, Faith. Hard to do that sometimes. I think it was perfectly natural to agree to help.”

  “Good to know. And maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the equine therapy.”

  Jolie put her cup down. “Honey. Everyone knows that Drew Miller has been through hell and back.” She gave a small snort. “I know quite a few ladies who’d like to help him through his recovery, but he’s having none of that.”

  Faith gave a slight nod. She didn’t like the idea of ladies offering Drew ‘help,’ which was both startling and unsettling. She looked up to see Jolie regarding her with a questioning expression and changed the subject, asking whether she could borrow a couple of Jolie’s goats.
She needed them to eat the weeds around the barn.

  “Say the word and Dylan will drop them off.”

  “Word.”

  Jolie laughed and promised that her husband would bring a few goats by the next weekend. When Faith and Sully walked her to her car, Jolie stopped just outside the gate and looked around the place. “Are you doing all right here?”

  “I am.”

  “I kind of worried about you living alone after the incident.”

  Faith automatically reached down to touch Sully’s head. “I have a protector, and...I’m moving on. Doing okay.”

  Jolie studied her face for a moment, then gave a quick nod. “Good to hear. But if you ever need anything, remember we’re just on the other side of the field.”

  “I know.”

  Jolie slipped on her sunglasses, then tilted them down to look Faith in the eye. “And by anything, I mean talking, too.” She glanced at the house, then back at Faith. “Sometimes it’s easy to spend too much time alone. Don’t.”

  Faith ruffled Sully’s fur as Jolie walked to her truck and awkwardly hefted herself into the driver’s seat. She started the truck, waved, then headed down the drive.

  It was easy to spend too much time alone. But right now, Faith didn’t have a cure for that—not one she was comfortable with.

  * * *

  AFTER SPENDING THE weekend with his daughter, Drew had the proud feeling that Maddie could grow up to be an engineer or an architect. She had no trouble visualizing Lissa’s carefully drawn plans for the cabin—the small addition, which would add sleeping space and privacy for a teenager, the improved kitchen and bathroom—and was all about starting construction immediately.

  When they were done staking out the area for the concrete slab that would form the foundation of the additions, they headed to the shop to continue work on the lawn mowers he was repairing in return for the Jeep repairs.

  Maddie happily chatted away about school, her friends, her teachers—a world Drew was fairly removed from. He’d met with the teachers after returning home, but he needed to know more about her life, become more involved in it. Except asking questions drove home the point that he hadn’t been there for his family. He didn’t know what other dads, more conventional dads, did. He decided to ask the questions anyway. A penance to pay.

  “I thought your best friend was Maia.”

  “She was my best friend until Casey moved here. They’re next-door neighbors, and Maia and Casey do everything together now.”

  “Do you miss her?” He and Pete had been best friends since the age of nine and nothing had shifted there—not even when Drew married Pete’s little sister.

  “We still see each other.” Maddie’s lips pressed together as she worked to undo a screw holding the shroud onto the mower. She was his official screw-loosener. “She was one of the ones who said I couldn’t live with you because you’re crazy.”

  “Sometimes people say things—”

  Maddie’s gaze flashed up. “Not to their friends. Not when it’s mean.”

  “Good point.”

  Maddie went back to her screws. “That’s what Aunt Cara told me.”

  “She’s right.” And she had more of a hand in raising his daughter than he did.

  “Now I’m best friends with Shayla. She has horses.”

  “Do you like horses?” Something he should probably know.

  She gave him a duh look. “Everyone likes horses, Dad.”

  “I’m kind of intimidated by them.” He took the wrench that Maddie set down and loosened the carburetor.

  “How come?”

  “Because,” he said without looking at her, “I tried to show off for a girl once by riding her horse. It bucked me off, and I broke my wrist. The only time I’d ever been on a horse barely lasted ten seconds and I ended up in a splint.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “You must have done something wrong.”

  “Does no saddle or bridle qualify?”

  Maddie started laughing. Drew loved the sound. There was just enough Lissa in her laughter to make him feel as if he would never truly lose his wife.

  After they finished the last lawn mower, Maddie helped him clean up the bench, then dragged the mowers to the truck so Drew could load them in the back. “Why don’t you get a real job?” she asked after he’d hefted the last mower into place.

  Another question from Maia?

  “I will. Right now, I want to work on the cabin. Get a few things in order.” He closed the tailgate. “It has nothing to do with my accident.” Which was what he called the blast. His accident. He hoped that made it more palatable for her. And that she would never look up any information about roadside bombs or ask pointed questions. He glanced away as the memories flashed.

  “I told Maia that you didn’t have to work and that you were a lot luckier than her dad.”

  Drew smiled and held out his fist. She grinned back as she bumped it with her own. “Nice comeback.” Even though he hated that his daughter had to undergo cross-examination from her “friends.”

  “It’s true, right?”

  “I have enough that I don’t have to go to work until I find a job I really like.” He had a healthy savings account, and while his pension wasn’t huge, it was enough to cover costs—food, fuel, materials for the cabin, as well as the yearly lease he paid Deb for her half of the mountain property and the check he gave Pete and Cara every month for Maddie’s needs.

  Those needs would grow as she matured. He wondered what a prom dress went for these days. The cost of Lissa’s dress for their official first date had seemed astronomical at the time, but she’d looked so damned amazing in it. Nothing like the quiet girl who’d hung around the shop, watching as he and Pete tore into their latest project. That prom had become Drew’s last first date ever. He and Lissa were never apart after that.

  Things had been a little strange with Pete at first—suddenly, Pete’s little sister was a bigger part of his best friend’s life than he was—but eventually the weirdness subsided. Drew enlisted, Lissa went to college. They married and traveled from base to base...it had seemed like a good life at the time.

  “You want to grab a pizza before I take you back?”

  Maddie shook her head. “Let’s reheat the mac and cheese.” As they walked toward the house, she gave him a sidelong look. “Did you have a nightmare last night?”

  He smiled a little. “No.”

  “Then I can stay next weekend?”

  “Maddie...”

  “Just checking. One of these days, you’ll say yes.”

  Damn, but he hoped that was true. Five years was not long enough when he only saw his daughter part-time.

  * * *

  THE BLAST BROUGHT Drew rearing up out of bed. He tried to run for cover, but the sheets tangled around his legs, stopping his progress. He twisted, writhed, fought before hitting the floor face-first, jarring himself to full consciousness. The dust in the bedside rug filled his lungs as he took a deep gasping breath. No smoke.

  The cabin wasn’t on fire. No explosion, none in the offing.

  He let out a shuddering breath and lowered his forehead back to the floor, blinking back tears. The twilight dreams were the worst; the dreams that came between sleep and waking, when the horrors of the past mixed with the reality of his present.

  Finally, Drew pushed himself to his hands and knees, then rolled to sit on the floor with his back against the mattress. The room was intact. He hadn’t struck out with his fists, fighting for survival. Good sign?

  He let out a grim, choked laugh and then dropped his head back.

  No.

  He wasn’t certain how long he sat that way before rubbing his hands over his face, then slowly getting to his feet. His body was stiff—from fighting demons as much as from his recent tumble down the mountain. He headed to the john in the dim mor
ning light, took care of business, then splashed water on his face. The man who looked back at him from the mirror was not the man he wanted his daughter—or her friends—to see. Ever.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He tore his gaze away from the gaunt-cheeked, hollow-eyed man in the mirror and stumbled toward the kitchen. He had ten hours to get it together before heading off the mountain to see his daughter. They were going to shop for supplies for a school project that evening—the last one for this school year—and it would probably be best if he didn’t look like the walking dead.

  * * *

  MONDAY MARKED A change in Faith’s attitude at work. Maybe it was the fact that Jared had given Faith’s saddle away. Or maybe it was because enough was enough and she wasn’t going to live her life choked with anxiety. Whatever the cause, Faith wasn’t her usual diffident self when dealing with her boss on Monday. When Debra showed up in her office demanding that three files be found before the end of the day, Faith pointed out that the files had been marked “lost” several years ago.

  “I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee success,” she said simply, instead of making promises she couldn’t keep and then confessing her failure at the end of the day, as she’d had to do the last time Debra had asked for the impossible.

  “You’ve found other lost files,” Debra pointed out.

  “I go through the storage boxes, looking for misfiled folders when I have spare time.” She gestured at the open door of the archives. “There are a lot of boxes in there.”

  She spoke calmly, respectfully, but with a no-nonsense tone that she’d never used before with her boss.

  Debra blinked at her, and Faith assumed that she was going to be told to find the folders regardless, but instead Debra said in a tight voice, “I would appreciate it if you did your utmost to find these folders ASAP.”

  Then she turned and left Faith’s office, the sound of her heels echoing off the cinder block walls as she headed for the stairs.

  Faith leaned her palms on her desk. The last thing she’d expected was for Debra to back down. Lost transcripts were an embarrassment to the college, and Debra hated anything that reflected negatively on her position as registrar.