Jeannie Watt - Her Mountain Sanctuary

“Horseback riding?” He spoke ironically, telling Faith that he wasn’t fooled by her attempts at tact.

“Equine therapy.” There. Now the record was set straight and he wouldn’t think that she was a woman who pussyfooted around the truth. Not that it mattered, but she had her pride.

He settled back in the red upholstered seat and regarded her for a long moment. Faith made a conscious effort to meet his gaze, hold it. The guy let off an aura of power, coupled with something Faith couldn’t quite put her finger on. She didn’t want to put her finger on it. She wanted to end this uncomfortable meeting and be on her way.

Drew shifted in his seat then, making her jump. Inwardly cursing, Faith met his gaze dead-on, silently challenging him to say something.

He did.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“No.” It wasn’t him, per se. All guys like him made her nervous...although again, she’d thought she’d moved on. Her reaction to him proved otherwise. Faith let go of her cup, dropping her hands back into her lap so he couldn’t see her twisting her fingers—a habit she hated.

He didn’t believe her. It was more than obvious from the way one corner of his mouth tightened and his eyebrows lifted. His reaction stirred something in Faith. She would hold her own. She had nothing to fear from this guy. He wasn’t her assailant and they were in a public place. She squared her shoulders.

“Before we go any further, I need to tell you that I’m not actually a certified therapist.”

“I know. You worked under a therapist. Debra briefed me.”

“What else did Debra tell you?” Because she didn’t feel comfortable having total strangers being briefed on her, although, to be fair, Deb had given her a lot of information about Drew. Information he probably would prefer his sister didn’t give to a perfect stranger.

“I know that you’re new at the college, new to the Eagle Valley. I pass your house when I drive to town.” Her heart kicked at his last statement. Even though she’d known that he lived near her, she hadn’t realized until this meeting that he was a walking trigger-fest. “And...I know that Deb hopes you’ll make me ‘normal’ again. Not much else.”

One corner of his mouth tilted up, but there was no humor in his expression. His eyes were cool, watchful, giving Faith the feeling that he noticed everything.

“Do you have PTSD?” Asking the point-blank question made her feel a little more like her old self—a woman who had control of her life.

“I have grief.” A flat statement of fact, spoken without any sign of self-consciousness, but Faith felt his withdrawal. She took it to mean, yes, he had PTSD and no, he wasn’t going to talk about it.

“Are you in therapy?”

“I was. I deal with it on my own now.”

Which was why Debra was concerned. Her brother had lost his wife, survived some kind of military disaster and was now living alone in an isolated cabin, dealing with his symptoms on his own. So she had urged Faith to meet with him after discovering Faith’s equine therapy background.

Faith had been torn about meeting Drew Miller, but had agreed because she believed in the healing power of contact with animals. If he hadn’t shared the same body type as her assailant, if he’d been smaller or blonder or geekier, she might have encouraged him to try “riding horses.” He wasn’t any of those things. He was tall and muscular and powerful and Faith was allergic to masculine power. She didn’t want to risk having to spend more time with this guy.

She gave up trying to fake things. “I don’t think this is a good fit.”

“Because I make you nervous.”

“I said—”

“I heard you. I don’t believe you.”

“That’s blunt.”

“And truthful.”

Anger sparked deep within, giving her a dose of courage. “It’s not a good fit because you aren’t really interested in equine therapy.” Her right hand was squeezing her left hand so tightly now that it was going numb from the pressure. “Right?”

He settled back again, regarding her as if she was a puzzle he needed to solve. She could cut things short—simply agree that he made her nervous and explain why, thus solving the puzzle—but the words froze in her throat. It was none of his business and, just in case he did talk to his sister, she didn’t want her coworkers to know. Her attack was nothing to be ashamed of...but it was personal. Something she held close in hopes that it wouldn’t color her entire life.

As it was coloring it now.

Faith drew in a breath, but before she could speak, he said, “Why did you agree to meet with me?”

“I thought I could help.” She hoped her nose didn’t grow. The truth was that she wanted to remain on her boss’s good side.

He smiled a little, a faint lifting of the corners of his mouth. “You wanted to get Debra off your back.”

Her face went warm. “No.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

“I don’t know you, so I don’t know if that’s true,” Faith snapped.

“And it doesn’t look as if you’re going to know me.”

She was in a situation. She liked her job working in the registrar’s office, digitalizing the old records and updating the new. The people she worked with were friendly, but not too friendly, allowing her to work alone without a lot of interruptions. And her office was in the basement, where she felt as if she had an extra layer of security. It wasn’t easy to find her and she liked it that way.

“I’m not going to talk to Debra.” He moved then, easing out of the booth and getting to his feet, towering over her. “You can tell her I wouldn’t agree to therapy.”

Faith would have gotten out of the booth, but she didn’t want to face him without the safety of the table between them. So, she kept her neck craned upward as she said, “Maybe you should tell her.”

“I avoid my sister at all costs. But, if she does manage to track me down, I will.”

“You avoid her, yet you stay in the area because of her?” He frowned at her, looking perplexed, and she said, “You said you were here because of your family.”

“Deb isn’t my only family.”

Faith opened her mouth, closed it again. Debra had made it sound as if she and Drew were the last of their line.

Not something Faith wanted to get into.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

There was only the slightest hint of irony in his voice, but Faith caught it. And she didn’t think it was necessarily directed at her. He saw her as his sister’s puppet. Which she was.

A moment later he was on his way out of the café, and Faith’s limbs went weak with relief when the door closed behind him. She propped an elbow on the table and pressed her hand to her forehead as a wave of depression followed relief. Sheer adrenaline had gotten her through the meeting, but now...wet noodle.

She’d thought she was doing better. She’d even managed to deal with the big guy on the college grounds maintenance crew who had tried to hit on her. He wasn’t as close to her assailant’s body type as Drew Miller was, but he was big. And muscular.

But not powerful.

Drew Miller exuded an aura of power, and that was the difference.

* * *

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN give it a chance, did you?”

Somehow Drew refrained from rolling his eyes at his sister. That would only lengthen the time he had to spend in her uncomfortable-feeling McMansion, defending his desire to run his life his way. He’d been truthful when he told Faith Hartman that he avoided his sister at all costs, but sometimes offense was more effective than defense with Deb. She needed to forget the therapy idea and accept the fact that he could handle matters on his own. He took a deep breath, spoke calmly.