Her Mountain Sanctuary

by Jeannie Watt

  “Yeah. I get what you mean.” Drew came down off the low ladder. “And I can promise you that when I signed up for those lessons I had only two reasons—to spend time with you and to get over my horse issues.”

  “What about now?”

  “In what way?” How did he keep losing ground here?

  “Do you like her more now?”

  Drew patted the hammerhead lightly in his palm, decided to cut to the chase. “Do you want me to like her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “That’s honest.”

  Maddie gave him a serious, wide-eyed look. “I’m not ready for a new mom, but Shayla says you’re probably lonely.”

  Drew sat on the low retaining wall that kept the mountain from sliding onto the small back yard and patted the stone next to where he sat. Maddie took a seat and leaned into him. Drew looped a loose arm around her. “Don’t worry about me being lonely.”

  “But you’re my dad and I need to worry about you.”

  No. She’d had enough worries in her young life without adding his loneliness to the list.

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m doing okay.”

  “But someday you might get a girlfriend, right?”

  “Someday. Maybe. I don’t see it being any time soon.” He hoped that was the right answer. It was certainly the truth. “And if I do, it won’t affect how I feel about your mom. She was the love of my life. Nothing will replace her.”

  Maddie let out a little sigh, telling him he’d done okay.

  He gazed down at Maddie’s profile and she shifted her eyes to look at him without turning her head. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m about to be a teenager, Dad. You know, that time of life when everything gets confusing and weird?”

  “True. But you’ll always be my little girl, and no matter what, remember that I’m here for you.”

  Maddie nodded. “Same thing here, Dad.”

  Drew laughed and ruffled her hair. “Should we get the last of the siding up before dark?”

  “Yeah. One step closer to finishing my room.”

  Drew’s breath caught, but she didn’t say a word about coming to live in her room. Sometimes, after a bad night, he felt like building the room was an exercise in futility, but he needed this time with his daughter.

  “Hey, Dad?”

  He turned from the ladder. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for taking riding lessons with me. I really like them.”

  Which was why they were going to continue for as long as Faith would have them.

  * * *

  AFTER HIS CONVERSATION with Maddie, Drew couldn’t stop thinking about the lessons, thinking about his unfinished business with Faith. If Maddie wasn’t involved, and if she wasn’t so keyed into the actions of the adults around her—the curse of being an only child—Drew would have let matters stand. He wouldn’t have pulled into the Lightning Creek Ranch on Wednesday evening after helping Pete replace the wrinkled panels in his Jeep. But the lights were on in Faith’s house, he was worried about his daughter and he figured, what the hell? Maybe they could hammer out a new understanding before the next lesson.

  He knocked on the door and her dog gave a few throaty barks. A few seconds later, Faith pushed aside the curtain and then pulled open the door.

  “This is a surprise.”

  “Yeah.” He dug his hands a little deeper into his coat pockets. “Can I come in for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” She stepped back, swinging the door wider.

  “Thank you.” He stepped inside her warm living room, took in the book and the glass of wine on the table next to the overstuffed chair. “The kittens are doing well,” he said as a way of starting a conversation he had no clue how to have.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She motioned toward her wineglass. “Want some?”

  “Better not.”

  “All right.” She folded her arms over her chest, waited for him to dive in. He didn’t know how, so he did the equivalent of a conversational cannonball.

  “I scared you at the rodeo.”

  “Anyone would have been scared. I was just...more scared. But I’m glad you were there.” She rubbed her upper arms as if warming them. “Honestly? A part of me is glad you did what you did to Jared, even though I think in some ways it was scarier for you than it was for me.”

  He felt his barriers, which were already firmly in place, rise just that much more. “How so?”

  “You fear losing control of things. I imagine losing control of yourself is the scariest thing of all.”

  How could he say she was wrong when she was right on the money? Losing control terrified him—but he hadn’t expected her to clue in on that. Not while she was dealing with her own issues. And then, instead of allowing him to reply, she floored him by saying, “I want things to be the way they were before.”

  Story of his life, but her stark admission still brought him up short. He knew exactly what she meant. She wished they could go back to the flirting and the sense that maybe they could help each other out, instead of triggering one another.

  “I can’t be the kind of guy you need, Faith.”

  She let out a breath as she raised her eyes. “What kind of guy is that, Drew?”

  “A normal guy with a minor amount of baggage.” How could she claim she didn’t want a man with minimal baggage? Everyone wanted that. “Here’s the thing—grabbing that guy felt good. He was hurting you. I wanted to hurt him. And that in turn hurt you. Vicious circle.”

  “What’s the solution, Drew? Are you going to isolate yourself? Stay far away from me? Send Maddie to lessons with her uncle?”

  He gave her a dark look. “Isn’t isolation your first instinct in time of trouble?”

  “This isn’t about me. It’s about you and me.”

  “There is no you and me.” If he’d hoped to put her off with his blunt statement, he failed. Faith was easily frightened—by sudden movements, being approached from behind, certain smells—but she didn’t seem to be one bit frightened of him.

  “No,” she agreed. “But there was a beginning.”

  “I told you I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t kidding.”

  “And that,” she said softly, “is something I must respect. As long as it’s the truth.”

  He scowled at her. “What does that mean?”

  She dropped her arms to her sides. “That means I can accept you not wanting a relationship because of you. But not because you’re afraid of what that relationship might do to me.”

  “That’s a legitimate concern.”

  “Yes. But I should have a say in what I am or am not willing to try to deal with. You shouldn’t decide for me.”

  “I trigger you,” he said roughly.

  “Not you, Drew. Not anymore.”

  “My actions, then.” His expression softened as he studied her face, took in her wide green eyes, the lips he’d once kissed...wanted to kiss again. “I’m sorry I scared you at the rodeo. I am afraid of losing control. I want to be friends.”

  “Friends.”

  He nodded.

  She dropped her chin. Shook her head. “Any chance we can keep an open mind? I was kind of looking forward to healing.”

  “Friends, Faith.”

  She lifted her chin, looked him square in the eyes. “I don’t know if that’s possible...but I’ll try. For Maddie’s sake.”

  * * *

  FAITH GOT HOME late on Thursday. Debra had needed some misfiled records for an important alum at the very last minute, and it had taken Faith almost an hour past quitting time to find them. She could have said no, could have gone home. Could have dealt with passive-aggressive Debra the next day.

  She chose to stay.

  By the time she finished feeding the horses, a storm had started to move in across the v
alley, casting an eerie yellowish light over the fields. The wind came up suddenly, blowing the hay around the feeders and back into her face. She brushed it out of her hair with her fingers, then headed to the house. Once upon a time, she’d loved storms, but now they made her uneasy. All that energy. All that unpredictability...

  No one knew the outcome of a storm until it had passed, and Drew had tried to tell her that his situation was similar. There was an element of uncertainty. Things he couldn’t control.

  Was that a deal breaker for her?

  Was being a deal breaker even an issue when he didn’t want to have a deal with her? Other than friendship?

  Honestly? She didn’t know if she could play the part of a friend, when she still felt a wild physical attraction toward the man. When the bond felt deeper. When she thought about him in the early hours of the morning after something startled her awake.

  She’d just started reheating pasta for dinner when her phone rang. A speak-of-the-devil moment as Drew’s name appeared on the screen. She answered it before the second ring.

  “Faith. It’s Drew.” There was an odd note to his voice. A hint of desperation that made Faith’s heart beat just a little faster. She knew the sound of an emergency.

  “What happened?”

  “I—do you have any baby shampoo?”

  Certainly she hadn’t heard right. “Baby shampoo?”

  “If you don’t, that’s fine. I’ll go to the store, but you’re closer...and I think the store closes at seven.” It was six-forty.

  “I have baby shampoo.”

  “And I have kittens covered with motor oil. Can I come down and borrow it?”

  Motor oil? Faith pressed a hand to her head. “I’ll bring it up.”

  “Faith—”

  “I’m coming up. I want to see these oily kittens.” She ended the call and headed for her bathroom. A few seconds later, she had her coat on and was out the door. Instead of getting into the four-wheeler, she got into her truck and started up the mountain. Kittens covered with motor oil. How?

  Well, they were kittens.

  When Faith pulled to a stop in front of Drew’s cabin, he instantly opened the door. He held two sad-looking kittens in the one hand, their little oily bodies staining his T-shirt. “Thank you.”

  “I can’t say no to a kitten emergency. What happened?”

  “Before I took Maddie home, we put the kittens in the shop to play. I never dreamed they’d find my used oil container. Knocked it over. Maddie is going to kill me.”

  Faith reached out to take a greasy kitty away from him and held it up. The little cat mewed in distress, her ears sticking out sideways, her oily fur spiked, giving her a punk-rock look. “Maddie doesn’t need to know,” Faith said.

  Without waiting for an invitation, she moved past him and took the kitten to the kitchen sink, then changed her mind.

  “The bathroom basin will be smaller. Easier to fill and empty.”

  Drew crossed the living room and opened the door to a bare-bones bathroom. But it had a basin that was perfect for washing a kitten. Faith started the water running—warm, but not too warm—then turned to Drew. “Got some hand towels?”

  “Two clean ones. I haven’t hit the laundry this week.”

  Sounded about right for a single guy.

  Thunder rumbled outside as she dunked one kitty in the sink and it started to howl. “I hope you don’t mind me taking over.”

  “They were your cats until last weekend.”

  “Not really.” She held out her hand and Drew poured shampoo into it without her having to ask. They made a decent cat-washing team. “Like I told you, Mama showed up a few days before giving birth in the barn. She’s not mine, so the kittens aren’t mine.”

  “She’s wild?”

  “She’s cautious.”

  “Aren’t we all.”

  Faith frowned at him, then continued soaping up the kitten. When she was done, she rinsed the baby and then handed her off to Drew, who started rubbing her dry with a hand towel while Faith tackled kitten number two.

  “Is this Rosalee or Cecily?” She knew that Rosalee was yellow with white spots, but she was playing the game, making inane conversation, distracting herself from the man standing so close to her.

  It took Drew a moment to say, “Rosalee... I think.”

  Once the second kitten was washed, Faith handed it off to Drew, drained the basin and dried her hands on the edge of the towel that Drew was using on the first kitten. Without a word Drew handed the second one back to her and she grabbed the other hand towel. Silently, they dried the kittens.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the storm no longer concerned her. She had bigger issues at hand. Drew met her eyes with his cool blue gaze, but despite his distant demeanor, she had a feeling he was anything but cool. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  But he wasn’t going to let go of the ironclad hold he had on himself.

  “I need to go.” Her duty was done. The kittens were okay. Drew was okay. She was about to shatter. Her kitten started to purr, the sound of its little motor overly loud in the quiet cabin.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  She rolled her eyes at his stilted words as thunder rumbled in the distance. “Not a problem, Drew. Glad to help.” Her kitten started squirming and she let it down on the wood plank floor. Drew also set his kitten down, and she promptly jumped on her sister. They seemed no worse for wear after their oil adventure and baths.

  Drew stayed rooted next to the sofa as Faith walked to the door. She looked at him over her shoulder before opening it. “How do you feel about this friendship thing now?”

  He pushed his hands into his back pockets. “I feel like it’s going to be a struggle. And not because I don’t like you.”

  She hadn’t expected him to be so honest, and because he’d been honest, she couldn’t come up with any kind of a return quip. “I guess we’ll have to work at it.”

  “Yeah,” he said dryly. “Maybe we could have coffee sometime.”

  * * *

  AFTER SATURDAY’S RIDING LESSON, Drew took Maddie to Pete and Cara’s place instead of to the cabin. Cara wanted to take advantage of the summer sales to help Maddie stock up on school clothes, and Maddie was excited to start building a new wardrobe. Yeah. His kid was growing up.

  “That was a good lesson,” Maddie said as they pulled up next to the shop.

  “Yeah. It was.” Even though they were moving beyond the things he wanted to do on horseback. He had the basics. He was good.

  “I’m glad you guys are friends again.”

  You guys meaning he and Faith. They’d both put on Oscar-worthy performances during the lesson, and he hadn’t lingered afterward. The goats had gone back to Jolie’s place, and Maddie had kittens of her own, so there hadn’t been much call to stay longer. Faith had asked about Maddie’s kittens, and he’d told her they were doing well. Maddie never had a clue anything had happened to them. And as near as he could tell, she had no idea that he’d had a hell of a time keeping his eyes off Faith as she taught them the basics of loping.

  That he wanted her in a way he’d never again thought he’d want a woman.

  And she wanted him.

  She knew about his issues. She still wanted him. Faith didn’t seem particularly self-destructive—if anything, he would peg her as overly self-protective. But not where he was concerned. She’d wanted him to help her heal...to help them both heal. Together.

  Was that possible?

  He didn’t know, but he couldn’t get around the fact that he was waking up thinking about one particular red-haired woman every single morning.

  When Drew drove back to the cabin, that red-haired woman was riding Tommy in the field, keeping the horse supple so he could bend properly when he rounded the barrel. There was a lot more to barrel racing than jus
t running—and sometimes Drew had a hard time believing he knew things like that. Faith had kind of changed his life, and not in the way Deb had intended when she’d brought them together. He was still in his cabin on the mountain, although he wasn’t as much of a hermit.

  Didn’t want to stay that much of a hermit.

  But he also wanted to make sure he didn’t inflict his brand of pain on anyone else—such as his daughter. Or Faith.

  But Faith knew about it. Was willing to work around it.

  Or so she said. She hadn’t yet been subjected to a screaming man in the middle of the night.

  There was a solution to that. A very simple solution.

  Drew parked the truck and went into the cabin, standing for a moment in the silent interior. The kittens started across the floor toward him and he smiled as he sat. One of them started climbing his pant leg and he reached down to scoop it up into his hand. The little cat started purring and punching the front of his shirt. Amazing how the steady purring made tension abate. Not a lot...but a little. Cecily—or was it Rosalee? He’d have to get a refresher from Maddie—turned in a circle and made herself comfortable on his chest.

  He lightly stroked the kitten with two fingers as he stared across the room.

  Maybe he should call Faith.

  Maybe they should talk.

  * * *

  FAITH FROWNED DOWN at her phone. “Coffee?”

  Drew’s voice was low and somewhat ironic as he said, “Isn’t that what friends do? Have coffee?”

  Faith was about to ask for a deeper explanation, then stopped herself. If he wanted to have coffee, she would play along. “Sure. Where and when?”

  “There’s a place on the lake.”

  “I know it.” She’d driven by a time or two but had never stopped. Coffee alone in a swank shop just didn’t cut it.

  “Tomorrow morning. Maybe nine o’clock?”

  Sunday morning coffee. With Drew. “I’ll be there.”

  He said goodbye and ended the call, leaving Faith holding the phone and feeling like she’d stepped into another dimension.

  He was taking this friends thing literally—and maybe that was the point he was trying to make.