Her Mountain Sanctuary

“I know you mean well—”

“Of course, I mean well,” Deb snapped.

“However, after talking with Ms. Hartman...” He shook his head. “It won’t work out.”

Deb’s mouth tightened as if he’d given exactly the answer she’d expected. “I know you feel as if Eric and I are interfering, but, Drew...you’ve changed.”

Huh. Losing his wife and having his convoy hit by a roadside bomb had changed him. Losing his comrades while grieving his wife had changed him. Coming home to a daughter he hadn’t been there to support during the roughest time of her short life had changed him. Go figure.

“And for Maddie’s sake, I think—”

“Leave my daughter out of this.” They’d discussed this before. Maddie had been hit with a double whammy in a short period of time and was not to be dragged into any of Deb’s half-baked schemes to keep up appearances. “I know I’m different, and here’s the deal, Deb. I’m not going to magically change back to the guy I once was. Not even if I pet a couple of horses.”

“It’s more than petting.”

“I know it’s more than petting.” He did his best to tamp down his growing irritation.

“If it looked like you were doing something to help yourself, then...”

“Then...?”

Deb’s mouth snapped shut.

“Then people wouldn’t be so wigged out about my living alone in Granddad’s cabin?” The further tightening of her lips answered his question. “I don’t care what people think, Deb. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m building an arsenal or writing manifestos—”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“People do live in cabins without being nuts, you know.”

Deb looked as if she’d like to argue the point, making him wish he hadn’t come, even if it was a necessary trip. Otherwise she would have hounded him via text. One of the drawbacks of his place was that even though it was isolated and didn’t have conventional power, it did have an excellent cell phone signal—if he remembered to plug his phone in and charge it when the generator was on.

“You know that Eric and I are just...concerned.” Always Eric and I, even though Drew had a feeling his brother-in-law couldn’t care less about his living on the mountain alone.

“I’ll act as normal as possible when I come to town, okay? That way people won’t talk.”

Deb took a step forward. “I think you’re afraid of this therapy.”

Change of tactic. And not a bad one. “What if I am?”

“Then you need to meet your fears head-on.” She sounded as if she were rallying troops.

“Noted. I have to go.”

“Pete’s shop?” Deb said his late wife’s brother’s name with a faint sneer.

“Yeah. He’s swamped. I told him I’d help out.” And he made it a point to be at the shop when Maddie got home from school, so they could spend time together. Deb didn’t seem to have a maternal bone in her body, so he didn’t bother mentioning that.

Drew started out the door and then looked back at his sister. “This matter is closed, by the way.”

Deb’s jaw shifted sideways as it always did when she was thwarted. It’d looked cuter when she’d been five and he’d been ten. “You are never going to segue back into society if you spend all of your time either in the cabin or Pete’s shop. You’re never going to be able to give Maddie the support she needs.”

“That’s none of your business, Deb.” The first sparks of serious anger started to burn deep in his belly. “I’m not kidding about that. Not even a little bit. Stay out of my life. No therapy, no interventions. Got it?”

She pulled in a breath through her nose, lifting her chin. “You’re my brother. If I see you driving off a cliff, I’m going to stop you.”

He gave a small snort as he pulled the door open. Sometimes talking to Deb was literally like talking to a wall.

* * *

FAITH HADN’T SEEN the Lightning Creek Ranch prior to the fire that had destroyed the house two years ago, but she’d studied enough photos to know she was living in a carbon copy of the place—on the outside, anyway. She doubted that the original house had had the same open layout, or the state-of-the-art appliances, yet the house she rented retained a homey farmhouse-feel that warmed her every time she walked through the door.

She dropped her purse on the sofa near the door and shrugged out of her coat. She was lucky to have this place—and a job. After the attack eighteen months ago, she’d given up barrel racing and quit her day job as an administrative assistant at a high school. She’d moved into a small over-the-garage apartment belonging to her friend, Jenn, an equine therapist who owned the stable where Faith boarded her horses.

It’d taken almost two months and the constant presence of a canine roommate before she’d felt safe enough to go to work for Jenn, helping with equine therapy classes, going to therapy herself. And she’d healed—to the point that when an assistant registrar job opened at the Eagle Valley Community College three months ago, and her friend Jolie Brody Culver had called about it, she’d successfully applied. It was a records job—something where she didn’t have to be in constant contact with people—and it was also a huge step forward.

Now she’d taken a step back.

It happened.

Drew Miller had triggered her. She sensed he was a decent guy—damaged, as his sister had said, but decent. That hadn’t kept her primitive survival instincts from kicking in. It was unfair and illogical, but she kind of hated him for driving home the point that she wasn’t as far along as she’d thought. That she probably would never fully recover.

She went to the back door and opened it, allowing her overgrown Airedale and personal bodyguard, Sully, to bound inside.

“Yes,” Faith said as the dog sniffed at her, then rubbed his curly head on the side of her leg, “I had a rough end to my day.” Sully always managed to read her and react accordingly. She wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to sleep on the foot of her bed that night, crushing her feet with his reassuring weight, as he always did when she’d suffered a fright or a setback.

The house was darker than normal due to the blue-gray clouds that had rolled in as she drove home from work, so she snapped on a light and headed over to the gas stove to flip the switch. A cheery blue fire began playing over a fake birch log.

There was a low rumble in the distance as she went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of merlot out of the cupboard next to the fridge. After the meeting with Debra’s brother, she deserved a glass of wine. Maybe two. Her lips curved humorlessly as she uncorked the bottle.

She left the wine to breathe and walked to the window, staring out at the dramatic sky. Across the field, Jolie and Dylan’s lights were on. They’d chosen to build on the far side of the property, while the older Brody sister, Allie, and her husband had built a custom home in the trees at the base of the mountain, leaving the main house for their sister Mel and her husband. Only Mel had chosen to stay in New Mexico for another year while she and her husband, KC, wrapped up their business there, so the house had been empty, waiting for a temporary occupant—and her horses.

Jolie had been a lifesaver. And now, even though Faith didn’t see much of the Brody sisters due to their work schedules and busy home lives, she knew they’d be there if she had a problem. She went to the window and stared out at the lights at the opposite end of the field.

Drew Miller was also her neighbor. She’d watched through the café window to see what he drove, and sure enough, she recognized the red Jeep he’d climbed into. It had passed her a time or two as she’d ridden her mare along the county road toward Dani Brody Matthews’s place. Dani was the only Brody sister who didn’t have a house on the Lightning Creek Ranch. Instead she and her husband lived in a beautiful stone and glass house on the road leading to the trestle bridge—the road to Drew Miller’s house.

The thought of him being near shouldn’t bother her. He wasn’t her attacker—just a guy with a similar build, who probably had PTSD.

Lightning forked through the sky on the other side of the valley and Sully abandoned his chew toy to follow Faith into the mudroom where she slipped into her barn coat. She still had to feed the animals and it seemed wise to do it now, before the storm hit for real. After all the hungry equine mouths had been fed, she’d come back in, nuke a TV dinner, sip her wine and do her best to forget about having to deal with Debra Miller-Hill, whose brother she wouldn’t be helping. She would have loved to tack on “through no fault of her own,” but she’d been the one to back off.

Faith had no idea whether Drew Miller would discuss the matter when his sister brought it up, but she hoped that if he did, it wouldn’t affect her job. Debra had been registrar for less than a year, but she already had a reputation for being hyperaware of everything that went on in her department. In other words, she tended to micromanage anyone who was on her radar, and she was all about appearances. And loyalty. The woman was insecure and defensive, and Faith had a bad feeling that she was sitting right smack in the middle of Debra’s radar screen.

* * *

DREW SLOWED THE open-top Jeep as he passed the Lightning Creek Ranch, though he would have preferred to have gunned it. He could see the rain coming in the rearview mirror and he had no desire to get caught in a downpour. He shot a look at the ranch buildings as he passed. Lights shone in the windows of two of the houses—the main house closest to the road and a small house on the far side of the pasture. His would-be therapist’s house, no doubt.

He fixed his eyes back on the road, swerving to miss a pothole. One reason Deb had been so adamant about trying the horse-petting program, aka equine therapy—he really hated the word therapy—was because he and Faith were practically neighbors. Like that affected anything. But his sister was one to grab at anything she could find to win an argument.

Usually, she didn’t win so much as wear him down. This time she didn’t win or wear him down because he wasn’t going to have her poking her nose into his mental health, especially when he was convinced that her concern was more about blowback on herself than because she gave a rat’s ass about him.

And then there was Faith Hartman. He’d expected her to be like his sister—superficially concerned about him, ready to “help” in exchange for remaining in his sister’s good graces and receiving a healthy session fee.

She hadn’t been anything like he’d expected. She’d appeared serious, honest, sincere.

Jumpy as hell.

She’d visibly drawn into herself when he’d taken a seat on the opposite side of the booth and even though she’d squared her shoulders and met his gaze, it had cost her. There’d been a haunted look in her wide green eyes, giving him the feeling that Faith had a few issues of her own. What made a woman who appeared to have backbone go pale at the sight of him?

Drew slowed again as he passed the beautiful stone, wood and glass house where his nearest neighbors—his former classmate, Dani Brody, and her husband, Gabe—lived. Near being a relative term. Drew’s cabin was another three miles up a road that rapidly degenerated from maintained gravel to rutted dirt. And regardless of what his sister thought was best, he liked living on a rutted, unmaintained road. Maddie was good with it, too. In fact, she loved the bouncy ride to the cabin on the weekends.

He’d talked about the situation with Pete and Cara and they’d agreed that when summer vacation started, Maddie would stay at the cabin more often but return to their place at night. She didn’t know about the plan and still thought she’d be at the cabin full-time, but hopefully, between Drew and Pete and Cara, they could help her understand why this was the best course of action—why he didn’t want her at the cabin if he came unhinged during the night. The thought of Maddie being there if he woke up yelling or punching a wall ruined him.

The sky was getting darker and he could smell the rain that was going to catch him if he didn’t step on the gas.

Thunder cracked behind him as he negotiated a corner, and then the rain started, spattering on the windshield, the seat beside him, his jeans and shoulders. He dodged a couple ruts and accelerated. Another two miles.

Lightning flashed as he rounded a corner, illuminating the white-tailed buck standing in the middle of the road. Drew swerved hard to the right, just missing the animal, then cranked the wheel back toward the road too late.

The front tire caught the berm, jerking the rig sideways. It teetered on the edge of the embankment before crashing down on its side and then rolling over onto its top.

Drew was thrown sideways and he smacked his head on something, making stars explode in his vision as the Jeep came to a rest on the roll bar. He hung from his seat belt as the rain began to pound.

CHAPTER TWO

FAITH HAD JUST thrown the last of the hay when she heard the crash. She turned toward the sound, pushing the damp hair back from her forehead. She wore a hooded raincoat, but the wind was now blowing sideways, driving rain into her face and down her back.

Too loud and metallic to be a gunshot. Too close to ignore.

Lightning flashed and when the sky darkened again, she saw the odd lights pointing into the sky where there should only be darkness. Mini floodlights...or headlights.

Her heart started pounding as she raced to the two-passenger ATV parked inside the open barn. Sully abandoned the kittens he’d been playing with and bounded over the door into the passenger seat. Faith’s phone was still in the house, so she stopped at the end of the walk, raced inside and grabbed it, dialing 911 as she headed back to the vehicle and climbed onboard. She pushed Sully farther onto his side of the seat so she could move her arm without bumping him.

The call put her straight through to sheriff dispatch. She explained that she’d heard a crash and now there were lights pointed into the sky. The operator promised to send a deputy as soon as one was available. Did she need an ambulance? That would take time, too. There’d been an accident on the rain-slicked roads just outside of town.

“I’ll update you when I get there.” Faith dropped the phone in her pocket and roared past the dark house Dani Brody and her husband called home. It was close to six o’clock. People should be getting home soon, but right now she was the only game in town.

Rain pelted the windshield and blew in through the open sides of the ATV. Faith’s wet fingers were getting numb from the cold. She followed the tracks that the rain was rapidly washing away, rounded a corner and saw the lights carving their way through the dark sky, pointing toward the tops of the tall fir trees ahead.

The ATV slid sideways in the slick mud as she approached the place where the tracks headed over the edge of the road, and she slowed, then stopped. She told Sully to stay, then jumped off the vehicle and headed toward the embankment. As she got closer, she heard the sound of rolling rocks over the rain. A few seconds later, a head appeared over the top of the berm.

Faith rushed forward and the man slid backward before his feet regained purchase on the slippery bank and he heaved himself upward again. Taking hold of his wet jacket, Faith set her feet and leaned back, counterbalancing the man as he made his way up and over. She staggered sideways as he regained his footing on the muddy road.

He was big and broad and once he had his balance, he towered over her. Just as that guy in the parking lot had before he’d spun her around and knocked her down.

Faith’s chest constricted. For one long moment, she and Drew Miller faced off in the lights of the ATV.

Move. Say something.

Instead she stared at him as the rain pelted her face.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He stepped backward and one of his knees buckled, snapping her back to her senses.

Of course he wasn’t going to hurt her. “Can you get in on your own?” She pointed at the ATV and he gave a slow nod before advancing. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and he stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling dispatch.”

“No.”

He spoke adamantly and Faith lowered the phone. “I already called them. I promised an update.”

“No ambulance.”

“I can take you to the hospital,” she said, assuming it was the cost that had him concerned.

“No hospital.”

“Do you want me to leave you here?” she snapped.

He angled his head as if discerning whether he’d heard her correctly. “I’d appreciate a ride to my place. It’s a couple of miles up the road.”

“Fine.” Faith wiped the water off her face. She wasn’t about to try to force him to seek medical care. She’d take him home. Drop him off. Hope that he didn’t have a concussion or something.

Once they were both in the close confines of the side-by-side and Sully was in the open cargo space at the rear, she put the vehicle in gear and headed up the road, weaving in and around the ruts. “What happened?”

“Deer.”

She gripped the wheel tighter. A couple of miles. She could do this. It wasn’t as if he was her attacker. Just a close physical facsimile...and, maybe because she was in the role of rescuer, her tension seemed more directed toward the shock of the accident rather than knee-jerk fear. She maneuvered around a corner and then another. He lived at the end of a very windy road. “I know the hospital is out, but do you want me to call your family? Tell them what happened?”

“I’ll do it.”

Faith forced herself to release her death grip on the steering wheel. Just another mile. Then you can breathe. Go back home. Climb into the tub. Drink your wine...

“Thank you.”

The words surprised her and it took her a couple seconds to say, “Not a problem.”

“I think it is.”

She frowned but resisted the urge to look at him. They covered the last mile in total silence, rounding one final corner before the headlights of the ATV illuminated a very small cabin with a metal shop building next to it. The shop dwarfed the cabin.

“Cozy,” she murmured. It couldn’t have more than three rooms, tops. Her money was on two.

“It’s home,” he spoke as he climbed out of the ATV.

She nodded, waiting for him to start toward his dark house, her nerves humming with the anticipation of escape.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my sister about this.”

Faith was about to tell him that she didn’t see any way around telling Debra, when he swayed a little. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He abruptly turned, started for the cabin. He made it almost three feet before he crumpled into a heap in the muddy driveway.

“Blast.” Faith jumped out of the ATV and raced to him. She used both hands to take hold of his broad shoulder and roll him over so that he didn’t drown in the mud puddle he’d landed in.

He let out a groan as he flopped onto his back.

Okay. He was breathing. And he was done calling the shots. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, water beading on the screen as she punched in 911. “I need an ambulance at the top of the Trestle Road.” She answered the dispatcher’s rapid-fire questions and was assured that a deputy was on his way.

“No ambulance,” Drew muttered from where he lay.

“An ambulance will follow,” the dispatcher said.

She hung up without asking if she could move him. She was going to do it anyway. He couldn’t lie in a mud puddle until help arrived and he’d already moved quite a bit under his own steam.

“If I help you, can you get up?”

He nodded, grimacing, and rolled over to bring himself up to his hands and knees. Faith crouched close to him, taking hold of his arm. She braced herself as he put his weight on her and slowly got to his feet. He swayed again, but Faith kept him from going down.

“Is your house locked?”

“Key under the mat.”

“Very original,” Faith murmured. As they made the slow journey through the mud, she supported less and less of his weight and by the time they reached the small, two-post porch, he was walking on his own. But Faith noted that he did not bend to retrieve the spare key and that he took firm hold of the post as she unlocked the door. Sully remained next to her, pushing his way into the cabin before Faith stepped inside. He wasn’t going to allow her to be alone with Drew, and his presence gave her a small measure of security.

She flipped on a light switch as Drew followed her and Sully inside, but nothing happened.

“The storm must have knocked out the power,” she said.

“I don’t have power.”

Her eyes widened. “No power?”

“Generator.” He stepped over to a box next to the light switch and pushed a button. Lights flickered a few times, then lit as the machine outside roared to life. She glanced around the cabin—so it was three rooms. A combined kitchen and living room with a back exit and two interior doors. A half loft. The place was old, the floorboards warped. The kitchen barely had any counter space or cabinetry. A rustic, minimalist place that somehow seemed to fit the man living here.

“You live with that sound?”

“No.” He pressed his hand to his head as if the answer had cost him.

“Sit down.” Faith motioned to the surprisingly nice leather sofa, then took a couple of steps back as if giving him room. In reality, she was giving herself room. He did as he was told, sinking down with a low exhale. “I’ll stay until the ambulance gets here.”

“I’m sending them back down the mountain.”

“No insurance?”

He shook his head. “No hospitals.”

“Do what you have to do. I’m staying until they get here.”

“No wonder you’re friends with my sister,” he muttered.

“We’re not friends.” Faith’s face grew warm at her clipped comment. “What I mean is that she’s my boss. Best not to blur lines.”

He lifted his gaze, one hand still pressed against his forehead and Faith took a step back, settling her hand on Sully’s wet curls. Logically, she knew Drew wasn’t a threat in his present condition, but survival instincts, once triggered, were strong. Exhaustively strong. He frowned as she moved back another step, and she had a strong feeling that it wasn’t from pain. He was trying to read her. Figure out what was wrong with her. Just as he had in the café.

He didn’t say a word, and neither did she. The rain beat on the roof, and a tree branch brushed lightly against the windows, but the silence inside the cabin seemed louder than the weather outside.

Finally, Drew broke the silence. “If you’re not friends, then maybe you don’t need to discuss this with her.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “And when she finds out? I can’t see where that would be good for either of us.”

“I don’t want her to scare my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?”

She had no idea why that revelation stunned her, but it did.

He closed his eyes without answering, letting his head rest on the cushion behind him. Faith stayed standing, hugging her arms around her middle. She scanned the room, which was sparsely furnished, ridiculously neat. A photo on the desk caught her attention and she glanced at Drew before leaning closer to get a better look. A much younger and carefree-looking Drew smiled down at the dark-haired woman in his arms. She smiled directly at the camera, joy lighting her face. A tremendous capture. Her contentment, his adoration. A couple deeply in love.

Faith pulled her gaze away, feeling as if she were intruding on a private moment. Drew’s eyes remained closed when she gave into impulse and checked the hands resting loosely on his thighs. The ring he wore in the photo was no longer on his finger.

The sound of an engine brought his eyes open again, catching her midstare. Faith quickly averted her gaze and moved to the window. A sheriff’s SUV pulled to a stop next to Faith’s ATV. A few seconds later, she opened the door to let a young deputy wearing a black raincoat and a plastic cover over his hat.