by Jeannie Watt
“Sounds worthy.”
“Yes.” Her mouth flattened, as if she was thinking of something unpleasant. “It won’t be the same as going to the NFR, but it’ll be enough, all things considered. It’ll make me feel a little more whole.”
Drew planted his elbows on the table. “I think the trick to understanding our situations is to accept that a little more whole is a good thing.”
She gestured at him with her glass. “Very intuitive.”
“Only took months of bemoaning what would never be.”
“Is that a fact?”
He smiled a little. “Is this what you were like? Before?”
“Yes.” She gave a ladylike snort through her nose. “I was not the terrified person you met at the café. I used to tell guys a lot bigger than me to bug off. But after the attack... I didn’t dare.”
“Before I lost my wife...before the roadside bomb... I was a very driven man.”
She raised her gaze. “Yeah?” she asked softly.
“I left my wife and went to war. The idea was that in twenty years, I’d have a decent pension and could pursue a civilian job. Then we’d be together full-time. Twenty years of being apart almost as much as we were together and then we’d cash in...except that Lissa didn’t make it. And I almost didn’t.”
“And Maddie is collateral damage.”
Drew’s throat tightened as she spoke a very real truth. “Yes. And I’m trying to fix that. As much as it can be fixed, anyway.”
“Why don’t the two of you live together?”
“I have nightmares. I never know when they’re coming.” He was surprised at how easily the words slid off his tongue. The wine? “They affect me physically afterward and...sometimes they can be kind of violent.”
Faith frowned, and if he wasn’t mistaken, leaned back, putting just that much more distance between them. For a moment, he regretted his confession.
“You make me feel a little ashamed.”
Not what he’d expected. “How’s that?”
“Losing a barrel racing career is nothing compared to what you lost. Or what you’re dealing with.”
“It’s not a contest.”
She glanced down. “I know. But my trauma is more a case of what could have happened than what did happen.” She brushed a few loose tendrils from her face before settling her hand back on the table. “I lost some hair. My faith in humanity. You lost people.”
Without thinking, he reached out and covered her hand with his. Faith jumped, her startled gaze meeting his at the unexpected contact. Then he felt her hand relax beneath his. “Fear is fear,” he said. “It’s all valid.”
She smiled and slowly pulled her hand away. “Thanks.”
He wished now that he hadn’t touched her. That she hadn’t made it so clear that she didn’t want to be touched. “How are things going with my sister?”
“I’m happy to report that our relationship is entirely professional.”
He smiled grimly. “Keep it that way.”
“No worries there.”
Drew finished his wine in one big swallow that would have offended a sommelier and then pushed back his chair. “I should get home. Big day tomorrow fixing engines and tearing down cupboards.”
Faith also got to her feet and the Airedale raised his head, as if checking to see if she might need him for anything before collapsing back onto the floor again. “Sounds exciting. I’ll be searching out old files and scanning them.”
“Double exciting.”
Faith laughed and walked with him as far as the door. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He didn’t know if she meant for the mower repair or the conversation. “Anytime.”
Faith waited until he was halfway down the walk before calling after him, “Was it old gas?”
He smiled at her through the darkness. “Yeah. It was.”
* * *
WHEN WEDNESDAY CAME and her saddle hadn’t arrived—no big surprise, given Jared’s track record—Faith decided to give him a nudge. He didn’t pick up her call, which told her that her saddle was not in the mail.
Annoying, to say the least. She’d signed up for her first rodeo and wanted her saddle. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she’d convinced herself that if she had her saddle, she would be able to follow through on her entry. She’d get further than she had last time, when all she’d managed to do was drive to the rodeo, unload her horse and then have a panic attack before driving back home again.
You’ll follow through. This year will be different.
She hoped. She was doing well around Drew—but that might not count because he no longer frightened her. His aura of power seemed different now that she knew he’d been hammered by life and was fighting to regain his equilibrium. Now that she’d seen him with his daughter. He was her neighbor. The brother of her boss. Her student.
An attractive guy.
Something of an enigma.
Faith put on the kettle and went back into the living room as she waited for it to boil. Would being around Drew, getting used to being in close proximity with a big man, make it easier the next time she encountered a guy who reminded her of her attacker?
Would she be able to hold her ground when startled, as well-trained horses were taught to do, and assess the situation before reacting? To face her fears without letting the fight-or-flight instinct overrule her brain?
When horses shied in place, it was because they trusted their rider to take care of them in crisis. Faith was too self-protective to ask someone in her life to share the burden. She’d barely been able to let Drew fix the lawn mower. Besides, she had no idea when the next crisis would occur. It wasn’t like she could have a bodyguard walking around with her, just in case she triggered.
She wasn’t the bodyguard type. She stood on her own two feet.
But sometimes you need to be propped up. Fact of life, like it or not.
She went back into the kitchen and looked out the window. Toward the mountain, she could see the faint glimmer of light from Drew’s cabin through the timber. Drew and Maddie. Father and daughter.
Maybe they would like to go to a rodeo...
And maybe then she’d make it all the way through the competition.
Faith pulled her phone out of her back pocket, went to the fridge and dialed the number Drew had written on the paper now trapped under her I Heart Airedales magnet. She assumed Drew would allow the call to go to voice mail, since he wouldn’t recognize her number, but on the fourth ring he answered, making her jump.
“It’s Faith.” Who has temporarily taken leave of her senses.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” She gripped the phone a little tighter, wanting very much to hang up. She might have if she didn’t believe he’d be down the mountain in an instant if he thought something was wrong. “I...have a proposition.” Good. So far.
There was a note of open curiosity in his voice as he said, “Yeah? What kind of proposition?” When he said the word proposition, it sounded sexual. Or maybe the deep timbre of his voice made her think of sex, which she hadn’t done in a long, long time. And maybe it was easier to think about sex when he wasn’t there and she didn’t have to deal with the reality of him. Or the possibility of it actually happening.
Face it, girl. You’re miles from it actually happening. With anyone.
Her cheeks were warm, but she managed a normal tone as she asked, “Would you and Maddie like to come to a rodeo with me?” Sensing his hesitation, she added, “I need a bodyguard.”
Way to spell it out, but it was totally true. She wanted someone with her who could take care of business. Make her feel safe.
Before he could answer, she added, “I’ll give you and Maddie lessons for free if you’d do me this favor.”
“We’ll do you this favor and pay for
lessons. I think Maddie would like a rodeo. When is it?”
“The second Saturday in June. Summit Lake.”
“Close by.”
“A purposeful choice.” She cleared her throat. “In case I can’t go through with it.”
“I’ll ask Maddie, but it’s a yes from me.”
Faith closed her eyes, drew in a breath, surprised at just how relieved she was at his quiet assurance that he’d go along to watch her back. “I appreciate it.”
“Glad I can help.” He sounded like he meant it, which made her feel all warm inside—even though she didn’t want to react to him that way.
“Thank you.” I need to go. “We can...talk at next week’s lesson.”
“Yeah. We can do that.”
The warmth was beginning to flicker into a small flame. Why did this conversation feel so intimate?
Because he understands.
He was a survivor and so was she. Like it or not, that gave them a connection.
“Thanks, Drew. See you then.”
Quickly, she hung up the phone, feeling spent. She’d taken a chance. It’d paid off. And she was already wondering if she’d made a mistake.
* * *
THERE WAS NO way Drew could have said no to Faith’s request for backup, but a part of him wished he had. He was sliding into dangerous waters and needed to stop before he got too deep.
Before the recent traumas in his life, Drew had never considered himself a student of human nature. Examining his own thoughts and feelings after those events made him uncomfortably aware of not only his own weaknesses and fears, but also those of other people. He read nuance in tones and expressions he hadn’t noticed in his previous life, when he’d been busy conquering the world.
Now he noticed things—like how Faith had done her best to sound normal, but still had a tremor in her voice when she’d asked him to go to the rodeo with her. His instincts had urged him to say no. To not get further involved. To keep things exactly as they were—pleasant acquaintances. Neighbors. Teacher-student. But that tremor...
He did not want to screw things up. Not when Maddie was so thrilled with the riding class.
She was now researching breeds of horses and trying to find room behind the cabin for an enclosure, because Pete was allergic to animals.
Drew had created a monster with the lessons. It felt damned good. So now he had to do his best not to mess things up with the instructor.
He rolled over in bed—his very lonely bed. He was thinking a lot about lonely beds and lonely cabins of late. After Lissa’s death, he’d been frozen with grief and disbelief, then the explosion had added anger to the mix. When the focus of one’s life was loss and anger, it was hard to move on. To think about opening up and letting another potential loss into one’s life.
But with every passing day, he felt a little emptier.
He needed...something....and at the same time he was afraid of that something.
Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted or needed, except to have his wife back in his arms. To hold the woman he loved during the night, smell her hair, be glad she was there with him. But as things were now, he might smell her hair, then knock her out of bed as he thrashed around in the throes of a nightmare. The possibility of hurting someone was all too real. It’d be one thing for Maddie to hear him flailing about and then see that aftermath the next morning in the form of one haunted, hollow-eyed man. But to have someone right there? Someone he might actually hurt?
Couldn’t happen.
He was sentenced to a lonely cabin. Shared by none.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DREW WOKE, COUGHING and gasping as his lungs filled with smoke. It was only when he stumbled sideways and his shoulder hit the lamp that he realized he was half out of bed, trying to run. Not the thing to do in a loft.
With a groan, he sat on the edge of the mattress, wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
Nightmares were becoming night terrors.
He closed his eyes, focused on his breathing. The smoke had been part of the dream, but his body was still coming to grips with that. Deep breath in, longer breath out. Repeat.
Okay. This is something you have to live with. Cara was right about Maddie. You’ll have to find other ways to be together.
And that felt a shit-ton like giving up.
So what the hell did he do? Try the drugs again? Go through his day sick to his stomach and walking through a fog?
If it meant spending time with his daughter, then maybe that was what he had to do. He wondered, though, if Maddie would want a nauseous zombie for a father. Because that was what he felt like. The undead. Who was about to puke.
Another deep breath. Another long exhale.
Focus. What was the trigger? Stress? Faith? Working toward a new chapter in his life?
He was traveling down a new road—one he hadn’t expected to be on. He was attracted to a woman, who he sensed was attracted to him, despite their inauspicious beginnings.
Drew got to his feet and headed for the shower. He had a visit to make today—a visit he didn’t mind making in his current cranky state. In fact, his sister might well have been the cause of the stress that triggered the nightmare.
Drew gave Deb a quick call before leaving the cabin, telling her he wanted to stop by for a few minutes. She seemed surprised—and she had good reason to be, since he rarely stopped by her place—then quickly invited him to the afternoon barbecue she was having that day for the neighbors.
Drew refused her kind offer, just as she’d known he would. Part of him wanted to say yes, just to see how she would respond to the prospect of introducing her cabin-dwelling, hermit brother to the neighbors, but he was in no mood to play games. Especially not with Deb, who was a master at game-playing.
When he arrived at the McMansion, he parked on the street, which Deb hated, but it was the fastest way into the house and that was what he was looking at—a quick in and out. Deb’s pretentious home with its two-story entryway, parquet floors and curved staircases gave him the creeps. It didn’t feel real or lived in, but if that’s what his sister had wanted to spend her inheritance on, cool. He had put his half of the money away for the proverbial rainy day. At the time, he’d had no idea just how hard it was going to start raining in the not-so-distant future.
He jabbed the doorbell, steeling himself for the trip into Deb’s domain. The door swung open a split second later.
“Drew!” Eric sounded as if he hadn’t seen Drew in months, rather than weeks. “Glad you could come.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “Head on outside. Deb’s out there working on the tables.”
“Drew.” Deb used her happy-to-see-you sister voice as she set down the centerpiece she was about to place on the last of three long tables.
“Expecting a crowd?”
“Most of the neighbors,” she said with an offhand wave before heading for the outdoor kitchen area. An outdoor kitchen in Montana kind of boggled the mind. She and Eric had sprung for a special retractable wall that dropped down, thus keeping out the snow and rain for a good part of the year. She opened the fridge, revealing an awesome display of craft and domestic beer. She put a hand on his upper arm, her expression growing concerned as she studied his face. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine,” he lied.
“I think you might like this Toboggan Ale,” she said, pulling out a bottle and presenting it to him as if it were a fine wine. The scent of roasting tri-tip hit his nose as he took the bottle. “Are you sure you won’t stay for the afternoon? There are some people I’d love for you to meet.”
He managed a smile as he shook his head. The backyard was supremely manicured and since Eric spent most of his time in his insurance office, Drew was certain that a service did the work. And that a caterer had supplied most of the lunch. The salads and desserts he’d seen in the fri
dge weren’t exactly the kind that were thrown together by a casual cook.
She really wanted to impress the neighbors. More than that, she wanted to impress the world.
“I assume you have a reason for stopping by?” Deb gave him a pointed look. “Because you never do that.”
“Yes. I do have a reason. Where in the hell do you get off discussing me with Cara?”
Deb put her hand to her chest. “What did she say?” she demanded, as if she were the wronged party.
“She said nothing. I just found out that the two of you talked, and I want to know what you think you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything, Drew. You’re overreacting.”
She made it sound as if he did that a lot. Which he didn’t. His one blessing was that he managed to defuse his anger—during his waking hours, anyway.
“No. You upset Cara, and that’s not right.”
“I had no intention of upsetting her. I simply asked about you.”
“And whether I should be living in isolation on the mountain.”
Deb’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you hadn’t talked to her.”
“I talked to her husband.”
“I can’t help being concerned.”
Drew let out a breath, set his untouched beer aside. Deb raised her chin in a small jerk and he rolled his eyes.
“Drew, you have misunderstood my intentions. I want you and Maddie to live together as father and daughter. As you should be living. But that cabin is not the place for a child. It’s remote and she won’t be anywhere near her friends.”
“Since when are you concerned about Maddie?”
“I know what it’s like to be a teenage girl. It wasn’t that long ago, you know.” Her expression became serious. “Eric and I saw the cutest little place for rent on the edge of town. It has a big shop and frankly, it would be perfect for you. We...contacted the realtor for more information. The packet’s in Eric’s den, if you’d like to see it.”
He did not.
“You’re looking for places for me, Deb?”
His sister’s expression grew stubborn. “We just happened to see it, and because of the shop, it seemed perfect for you.”