Her Mountain Sanctuary
She gave him her statement while Drew sat silently on the sofa. The deputy turned to him.
“How are you feeling, sir?”
“I’m fine.”
“He fell face-first into a mud puddle.” Faith figured the deputy might as well have all the facts before he left.
“Is that true, sir?”
“I’m not going to the hospital.”
“You’re refusing medical care?” the deputy asked.
“I am.”
“The paramedics are almost here. What say we let them check you out?”
Faith held her breath, releasing it when Drew grunted consent. “Then they leave. Everyone leaves.”
“I’ll leave now.” She couldn’t wait to get out of here. The deputy had her contact information and there was nothing to keep her. She headed toward the door, Sully at her heels, giving the deputy a quick nod before pulling it open. She didn’t look at Drew Miller.
The seat of the ATV was soaking wet, but so were her pants, so Faith climbed on and turned the key. In fifteen minutes, she’d be at her house, warm and dry.
She saw the lights of the ambulance turning onto the road leading past the Lightning Creek as she started down the mountain. Good luck to you guys.
The headlights of Drew’s vehicle were no longer cutting through the darkness as she rounded the corner where he had crashed. She eased to a stop, despite the rain, directing her headlights so that they illuminated the place where the tracks left the road. Easing her way through the muck, she peered over the bank. An open Jeep rested on its roll bar. Faith shuddered and headed back to her ATV.
When she put the machine into gear, her hands were shaking so badly it was hard to get a good grip on the gearshift. It was cold and wet out. Of course her hands were shaking.
It had nothing to do with Drew and that Jeep sitting squarely on the roll bar that had saved his life.
* * *
DREW STRUGGLED OUT of his wet clothes, which stuck to his damp skin. After dealing with the deputy and the no-nonsense female paramedic who could have taken him in a fair fight and then climbing the ladder to the loft, he barely had the energy left to do battle with his clothing. Finally, he kicked the last bit of his jeans free and collapsed onto the bed.
He hurt.
He had a hellacious bruise where the seat belt had cut into him, a large bump on the side of his head where he’d hit the doorframe and general soreness from tensing up during an adrenaline spike.
He was going to hurt more in the morning, once the shock wore off. So be it. Pain was an old friend. At one point, he’d embraced physical pain because it distracted him from the real anguish in his life, and, because of that, he now had a huge stash of unused meds. A scary stash. One that he should have gotten rid of a long time ago, but kept as a remembrance of surviving when he wasn’t certain he’d wanted to. But he’d soldiered on for his little girl. And for Lissa, who wouldn’t have wanted him to give in to the pain.
He closed his eyes, thinking that he’d pull the blanket up over him in a moment. The next thing he knew, gray light was filtering in through the windows and he was shivering on his side. He reached out for the blanket and groaned as his body rebelled.
Maybe he wasn’t remembering correctly. Maybe he’d been hit by a truck instead of rolling down a hill. It certainly felt as if he’d made close contact with a Peterbilt. There was no way he was going back to sleep, so Drew swung his legs out of bed, then sat for a moment before forcing himself to his feet.
He didn’t pee red.
Now he didn’t have to stop by for that checkup that Brunhild the paramedic had insisted on. He’d pop a few ibuprofens and wait for Deb’s call—because Faith had made it clear that she wasn’t going to keep her mouth shut. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Pete would intercept any call from Deb to Maddie, to keep Deb from upsetting her. Drew didn’t want his daughter to know that he’d come close to buying it again. She was insecure enough about loss as it was.
Drew pulled a pair of sweats out of the antique armoire that served as a closet. No jeans today. He struggled into them, jammed his feet into his moccasins and gingerly pulled a long-sleeve T-shirt over his head. He got stuck halfway through the process. He let out a breath, gathered his strength and managed to pull the shirt into place.
Once dressed, he sat back on the bed and caught his breath.
He had a Jeep to winch up the side of a mountain. Probably some serious bodywork ahead of him. The radiator had been hissing and spewing when he’d started climbing the hill, so add that to the list. He’d call Pete in a bit, arrange to haul his sorry rig up the mountain and tow it to the shop. Pete was a hell of a lot better at bodywork than he was, so he’d offer a trade of some kind.
Drew preferred paying in cold hard cash, but Pete would have none of it. Ironic that Pete needed the money and wouldn’t take it, and Drew had the money and wanted to give it.
He got to his feet and stiffly descended the ladder into the living area, swallowing a groan of pain as he stepped off the last rung. The silence pressed in on him, but he didn’t start the generator. His gaze drifted over to the photo of him and Lissa. He’d caught Faith studying the photo the night before, as if she were surprised that a woman might get that close to him.
Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been a name on a slip of paper that his sister had pressed upon him. An unwanted meeting. Now she was his rescuer. Yes, he might have gotten to the cabin under his own steam, but he also might have passed out in the road, and then died of exposure during the rainy night.
Once upon a time, dying hadn’t seemed like a bad option, but he’d always been clear on the fact that it wasn’t an option for him. He was a survivor. His methodology might suck. He might not have the greatest existence, but he was carving something out for himself and Maddie. After all he’d been through, it would have sucked to die in a mud puddle.
He owed the woman.
He needed to thank her...even though he had the very strong feeling that she didn’t want to be thanked.
Didn’t want any contact with him at all.
CHAPTER THREE
FAITH DREADED GOING to work the day after she’d helped Drew Miller back to his cabin. She had to say something to Debra when the other woman returned from her morning meeting in Helena. But what would she say?
Hey, did you hear that your brother had a wreck on the mountain? No? Well, let me fill you in.
It was a damned-if-she-did, damned-if-she-didn’t kind of situation. If he’d told his sister, fine. But she truly doubted he was going to do that, which left it up to her to say something. Word of the accident would surely get out in the small community. Even if the paramedics or deputy didn’t say anything, a wrecker would certainly be called to haul the vehicle back up onto the road.
What was the worst that could happen if she kept her mouth shut?
Once Debra found out about Drew’s accident, Faith would be in a very awkward spot. The woman had accepted the fact that Drew wasn’t going to be partaking in equine therapy, but she’d also said in a wistful way that she wished Faith had “tried harder” to talk him into it.
Now she was stuck in the middle of a situation not of her making. All because she’d agreed to take a meeting with the guy. If she hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have known who she was when she’d shown up to rescue him. She wouldn’t have known who he was. If they figured it out later, it would have been one of those odd coincidences that they could have marveled over.
But they did know each other. Debra had wanted her to work with Drew so she could get the scoop on how he was doing from Faith at work. She hadn’t said that last part, but Faith had understood that was part of the deal. Debra was worried about her brother. And now that she’d met the man, Faith believed that Debra had cause. He’d come off as being in control, comfortable in his surroundings at the café. But the isolation in which he lived, his insistence on no medical treatment, the photo of him in younger, happier days... The man who’d smiled out of that photograph was not the guy she’d dealt with.
And he had a daughter who didn’t live with him.
Yes, Debra had reason to be concerned. And now that he’d wrecked his Jeep, she had more reason. Although Faith was certain that Drew was fine. She’d left him in good hands before escaping down the mountain.
Debra came breezing in from her trip to Helena as Faith left the main office after dropping off some files.
“Uh... Debra...?”
Debra turned, her expression falsely bright. “Yes?”
“Do you have a moment?”
“Only a few. I have to report to the dean.”
Faith smiled apologetically and shook her head. “We can talk later.”
She was steaming as she headed to the basement archives an hour later without seeing Debra again. How dare this guy put her in a position like this? The thing to do was to wait until Debra returned to the office instead of heading to her car at quitting time, sit Debra down and tell her what had happened. Then Debra could be outraged or hurt or whatever, but Faith would be out of it.
Yes.
After unearthing a handful of ancient transcripts that had yet to be digitized, she marched back up the stairs to the administrative offices, paused to take a deep breath, then walked into the registrar’s office, only to find Debra’s inner-office door closed and dark.
Damn and double damn.
Back to her truck she went. After tossing her tote bag onto the passenger seat, Faith sat at the wheel for a long moment. Should she call?
She could only imagine giving Debra the news over the phone when she hadn’t given it to her in person. Faith cranked on the ignition.
No biggie. She’ll find out, ask why you didn’t say anything. You’ll say that Drew wanted to tell you himself. She’ll know that’s a lie...
Faith gripped the wheel harder as she drove to the Lightning Creek Ranch. After the assault, she’d developed the habit of overthinking and manufacturing anxiety. Over the past few months, she’d gotten a handle on the problem, but maybe she was reverting to old coping mechanisms.
No. She wasn’t. Her anxiety was the result of a real-life situation. She was in an awkward spot and she wasn’t happy about it—to the point that instead of slowing to turn into the drive at the Lightning Creek, she continued on up the Trestle Road toward Drew’s house.
What is wrong with you?
Faith set her jaw, gripped the wheel, dodged potholes and ruts.
A lot of things.
But she had to do this. She went over the scenario. When she got there, he’d come out of his house.
What if he doesn’t?
He would if there was a vehicle with the engine running parked next to his cabin. If not...she’d honk.
What if he’s passed out due to pain meds?
Faith skipped over that part. He’d come out. She’d leave the truck running, roll down the window and tell him to call his sister and explain what happened, because he was affecting her life and her livelihood and she needed this job.
“Clear things up with your sister! Now!”
Faith sucked in a breath. Yes. That’s how it would go. Then he would call Debra and she’d never have to see him again, except for when he drove past the Lighting Creek Ranch.
She slowed as she rounded the corner where Drew had driven off the edge. The vehicle was still down there. Her heart sank. Drew was probably passed out in his cabin and she was about to rouse him.
There was no place to turn around, so she had no choice but to continue up the road. The first open spot was in the clearing where the cabin sat. In for a dime, in for a dollar, as her dad liked to say.
The cabin door was propped open when she pulled into the clearing, but there was no tall, dark-haired guy in sight. Faith pulled up next to the truck parked beside the shop building and left the engine running as planned.
Nothing.
She gave the horn a quick honk, her nerves jerking at the sound. What she wouldn’t give to have Sully in the truck with her. She should have stopped to pick him up...but if she’d stopped, she might have lost her nerve.
No sign of life.
If her shoulders weren’t so tight, they would have sagged in defeat. Did she sit and pound the horn, or suck it up and knock on the cabin’s open door?
She’d check the shop. Faith got out of the vehicle and slowly approached the building, as if afraid that something—or someone—would burst out of the door before she got there.
Suck. It. Up.
She knocked on the metal door, then after waiting a few seconds, pushed it open to find a thoroughly organized work area. Everything was in its place, the floor swept, the benches clear. If Drew worked on projects here, he didn’t currently have one in progress, although there was a big stack of lumber along one wall and a table saw set up close by. Faith closed the door again and turned toward the house, then stopped.
She couldn’t do it. The anger that had propelled her up the mountain had dissipated. No...it had been beat into submission by the knee-jerk fears that were forcing their way into her brain. She was alone, on a mountain, with a stranger. The stranger was related to her boss. She’d saved him from a mud puddle, but he was a stranger all the same and she needed to get the hell out of there.
“Can I help you?”
Faith nearly jumped out of her skin as the low voice sounded from behind her. She whirled to find Drew standing on the porch outside his open front door, buttoning a shirt over his broad chest.
Again she felt very close to hating him for making her feel this way. Her reactions were not his fault, but it was demoralizing to discover she hadn’t healed as much as she’d thought she had.
“Yeah, you can.” The words sounded choked as she fought to control the fight-or-flight instinct. She pressed a hand to her chest, her voice sounding slightly more normal as she said, “Tell your sister about the accident. You’ve put me in a hard situation by not telling her.”
She moved toward her running vehicle as she spoke, keeping her eyes on Drew and doing her best to look as though she was casually sauntering. He frowned deeply as she opened the door and took refuge behind it. Once the barrier was between her and the man on the porch, she felt better.
“I need this job,” she continued.
“Deb won’t hold it against you for not telling her about this.”
Faith wasn’t so sure.
He started down the steps, then stopped as her back stiffened. “She’ll hold it against me,” he said. Faith’s chin came up, but before she could speak, he added, “I’ll talk to her and mention that I wanted to explain before you said anything to her.”
One corner of his mouth moved, quirking up into a humorless half smile that drew her attention to the fact that he had a nice mouth. She did not want to notice things like that about Drew Miller. It felt too dangerous.
“I would appreciate that very much.” She gave him an unsmiling nod and prepared to duck into the cab of her truck.
“Thank you.”
She straightened, looking at him over the top of the door. “Excuse me?”
“I owe you a thank-you.”
“Yes. You do.” She saw no reason to deny it. She got into the driver’s seat when he moved toward her, pulled the door shut and locked it, hoping he would think it was an automatic feature of her vehicle—which it was not. He was her boss’s brother, after all.
As he got closer, she rolled down the window a couple of inches, doing her best not to look like some kind of weirdo barricading herself in a car—although she’d do the exact same thing if she had a do-over. Fear and survival instinct trumped hurt feelings or seeming paranoid.
He tilted his head so he could see her face through the window, his frown more perplexed than threatening.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
Her heart stopped as she stared into his cool blue eyes. Knowing she looked frightened bothered her.
Faith moistened her lips, noted how his gaze followed the movement. This guy noticed details. He read people. He’d read her.
“I need to go.” She owed him no explanations, and she didn’t want to say anything that would come back to haunt her later. Such as, You remind me strongly of my assailant.
She didn’t talk about her attack. Didn’t want it to define her, didn’t want it to control her life any more than it already did. So she would drive away and deal with Debra tomorrow.
“I know you do.”
There was something in his voice that made her hand pause on the gearshift.
“How?” The old Faith, the confident, bulletproof Faith, popped her head up.
He shrugged his broad shoulders, making the fabric ripple. “I served long enough to know scared people when I see them. Hell, I was one of them sometimes.”
She swallowed dryly, her hand still on the gearshift. “I see.”
“What scares you, Faith?”
She blinked at him. Giving up secrets meant giving up power. Or at least it felt that way. Her cheeks went cold, then warm. She was astonished to find that she was tempted to blurt out the truth. To a stranger. “How do you feel today?” she asked him instead.
The sudden change of topic seemed to surprise him. It surprised her, but it also put her back in control of a situation she’d been in danger of losing control of.
“Sore as hell. But alive. Thank you for rolling me onto my back last night.”
She gave a small snort. “Least I could do.”
Something changed then. Momentarily lightened. Emphasis on momentarily. Faith was no longer a woman who allowed herself to be lulled into a sense of false security by a charming remark or smile.
“I’ll call my sister.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
He shifted his weight. “I don’t know what it is about me that sets you off, but I promise you I’m not an ax murderer or whatever my sister led you to believe.”
Relief washed over her as Drew provided a logical motivation for her fear. An excuse. She grabbed it with both hands. “She didn’t say anything to make me think you were...that.” But her inflection made it clear Debra had said things about his “issues”—which she had.
“Maybe not an ax murderer, but she paints me in a way that makes people wonder if I’m one step away from going postal.”
And what was she supposed to say to that?
She’d called Jolie from work that afternoon to ask about Drew. Jolie said he was a stand-up guy.
Was.
Jolie hadn’t talked to him since he’d returned home, since life and the military had changed him.
Faith took hold of the gearshift again.
They were neighbors. She worked with his sister. She was going to see Drew Miller again, and she didn’t want this situation hanging over her head. She put the truck in Reverse but kept her foot on the brake as she forced herself to do the hard thing. “The way I act around you has nothing to do with your sister.”
His gaze narrowed, but other than that he didn’t move a muscle. He waited for her to continue, which made her wonder if he was afraid of spooking her. “Almost two years ago, I was attacked by a man in a parking lot at a rodeo. A...big man.”
An expression of dawning understanding transformed his features. Softened them to a degree.
“And I’m a big guy.”
“You are.”
He gave a very slow nod, his gaze dropping as he once again folded his arms. When he brought his gaze back up, she was surprised at how open it was. “I’m sorry to hear that happened to you.”
Faith gave a jerky nod, but didn’t answer.
“It explains a few things.”
“I didn’t want you to blame your sister for putting ideas in my head.”
“You know that we’re going to run into each other from time to time. I might...” he casually shrugged his heavy shoulders “...drive off the mountain or something.”
She didn’t crack a smile at the unexpected joke, even though a small part of her wanted to. “I hope that time will make things better,” she said stiffly.
“One can hope.”
She started to ease her foot off the brake, needing very much to get out of there. To escape not only the situation, but the odd feeling that she’d just found someone who understood.
“I’m sorry I make you nervous, Faith.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was little more than a throaty whisper, because she hadn’t expected empathy and didn’t know how to deal with it. “Me, too.”
With that, she stepped on the gas, swung the truck in a wide arc, then started back down the rutted road to the Lightning Creek Ranch and safety.
CHAPTER FOUR
DREW FOLLOWED THROUGH on his promise to Faith and drove to Eagle Valley Community College where he would confess to his sister that he’d rolled his rig off the mountain, thus freeing Faith from her dark secret. He wouldn’t have told Deb at all if Faith hadn’t been involved.
Deb left him cooling his heels in her outer office with her long-suffering associate, Penny, as she finished a phone call and made another. Finally, she welcomed him into her personal space, which was decorated in the same minimalist, yet expensive-looking style as her house. Lots of leather and glass. Single orchids. That kind of stuff. Drew was more of an overstuffed-chair, coffee-table-you-could-put-your-feet-on guy, so he’d never felt comfortable in his sister’s sphere.
“How are you feeling?”
Drew managed to keep a straight face, despite her solicitous tone. “I’m sore.”
“Have you intensified your workouts?”
“No. I rolled the Jeep night before last and got banged up.”
The gold pen Deb had been holding fell out of her hand and rolled across the desk. “Were you drinking?”
Drew scowled at her. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“A reasonable one,” she defended. “People with your affliction tend to self-medicate.”
“Deb...stop with the affliction talk, okay? And I’m not self-medicating.” He was afraid to. He was afraid of disappearing down a rathole if he started depending on substances to help him through the long days and longer nights. He hoped like hell that he wouldn’t be driven back to the nightmare drugs that had made him feel like the walking dead. “I swerved to miss a deer and over-corrected. It was rainy and slick.”
She studied him for a long moment, as if trying to make him squirm like one of her employees. He wondered if Deb could make Faith squirm. She had backbone, but she was new on the job, and probably on probation. She was also the reason he was there, having yet another uncomfortable meeting with his sister. “Are you all right?” she finally asked.
“Yeah. Faith Hartman heard the wreck and came to my assistance.”
Deb’s eyes widened. “She didn’t say a thing.”
“I asked her not to.”
“Why?”
Drew cocked an eyebrow. “Because I didn’t want you peppering her with questions that should be directed at me...like whether I was drinking.” Deb flushed. “I told her I’d tell you in my own time.”
“She did ask to speak with me yesterday,” Debra said with a thoughtful frown.
He got to his feet. “Let’s leave Faith out of this. She’s my neighbor, your employee. Period. She shouldn’t be in the middle of family matters.”
And he didn’t want to add more stress to her life. She’d remained in his thoughts the night before, long after she’d confessed her past, and he’d woke up thinking about her. He told himself it was because his protective instinct was kicking in. He had an idea of what she was going through and he felt for her. That was all.
When Deb remained silent, he assumed she accepted his logic and decided to make good his escape. “See you around.”
“I heard there was a lumber delivery at the cabin.”
Drew stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned back. “How?”
“That’s not important. What on earth are you doing up there?”
None of your business.
Except it was half her business. She and Drew had inherited equal interest of their grandfather’s mountain hideaway years ago, and he now leased her half of the property.