Is he a threat...or her protector?

Barrel racer Faith Hartman hasn’t set foot in a rodeo since she was attacked two years ago. Just when she’s ready to move on, along comes Drew Miller, a dead ringer for her assailant...and her new neighbor. Faith wants to give Drew the benefit of the doubt, but every time he’s near, her fight-or-flight instinct goes into overdrive.

When the solitary veteran asks Faith to give him and his daughter riding lessons, the obvious answer is no. She can’t risk setting back her rodeo dreams—or her recovery. Still, Faith is drawn to Drew’s quiet strength, and the hint of vulnerability that suggests he’s battling his own demons, too...

JEANNIE WATT lives on a small cattle ranch in Montana’s beautiful Madison Valley. When she’s not writing, Jeannie serves as the tractor copilot (aka the gate-opener/cattle-fender-offer). She enjoys horseback riding, reading, sewing and knitting.

Also By Jeannie Watt

The Brodys of Lightning Creek

To Tempt a Cowgirl

To Kiss a Cowgirl

To Court a Cowgirl

Molly’s Mr. Wrong

Wrangling the Rancher

The Montana Way

Once a Champion

Cowgirl in High Heels

All for a Cowboy

Montana Bull Riders

The Bull Rider Meets His Match

The Bull Rider’s Homecoming

A Bull Rider to Depend On

The Bull Rider’s Plan

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Her Mountain Sanctuary

Jeannie Watt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08289-1

HER MOUNTAIN SANCTUARY

© 2018 Jeannie Steinman

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Faith Hartman?”

The unexpected sound of her name brought her head up and she found herself staring into ice-blue eyes. It took her a second to find her voice, because this guy—this tall, dark, trigger-inducing man—couldn’t be pixie-like Debra’s brother. Could he?

She cleared her throat and managed to say “Yes, I’m Faith” in a remarkably normal voice.

“Drew Miller.”

Worst nightmare coming true. She somehow managed to force her lips into a smile as excuses started tumbling over themselves in her brain. Her schedule had changed...she’d decided not to take on clients...her job was taking up more time than she’d anticipated...

Get a grip.

She really hoped she could. More than once she’d left public places because of people who reminded her of her assailant. But grip or not, she wasn’t going to be spending time with this guy. How could she if having him sit across the table from her made her heart race?

And the worst part was that he was her new neighbor.

Dear Reader,

We all have moments when we want to get away—to escape the reality of our lives, regroup and rejuvenate. In this story, both the hero and heroine have experienced life-altering traumas, escaped to heal and are now finding their way back.

Faith Hartman has spent a year recovering from an assault and is now actively working to put her life back on track and reclaim her place in the rodeo world. My hero, Drew, on the other hand, is still working through his pain and looking for strategies to help him build a life for him and his young daughter. When he approaches Faith for riding lessons, he never dreams that he’ll end up traveling the state, acting as her bodyguard as she competes in rodeos...or that he’s going to fall in love with her.

Drew and Faith had a rough journey toward their happily-ever-after, and they beat me up a little on the way. I didn’t mind, though. It was worth it to get these two together.

Happy reading,

Jeannie Watt

I’d like to dedicate this book to those who stood beside me on my writing journey—Mom and Dick, Gary, Jamie and Jake, Mike Allen, Charlie Hauntz. Thank you for all of your encouragement. It helped so much.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

DREW MILLER WOKE as he hit the floor, a scream catching in his throat.

The brilliant orange yet eerily silent flash from the blast faded into the night as his eyes snapped open. Kicking himself free of the sheets, he lay on the cold floor next to the bed, taking deep, gulping breaths. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his eyes adjusted to the moonlit loft. He pushed up to a sitting position and took in the damage. The lamp had taken another hit, and the books he’d had on the nightstand were strewn across the room.

Shit.

He looked at his knuckles—no blood this time—then leaned back against the bed, drawing his knees up and resting his forearms on them, letting his head fall forward. It didn’t take a whole lot of thought to connect the nightmare to the second anniversary of his wife’s death, but he hadn’t dreamed of Lissa. He’d dreamed of the roadside bomb that had taken out his convoy a year ago. As always.

Drew never remembered the dreams themselves. Only the colors and invisible forces holding him down, shoving him back. Killing his friends. He fought back, of course. Violently.

After getting to his feet, taut muscles protesting, he scooped up the bedding, dumped it on the mattress and then started down the ladder that led from the small loft to the living room of his grandfather’s cabin.

He crossed the room to the clothes dryer in the alcove off the kitchen, pulled out pants, socks and a flannel shirt. After getting dressed, he turned on the generator, made his coffee. When the brew had finished percolating, he poured a cup and took it out onto the porch where he sat on the step, letting the early morning sun warm him. Calm him.

Deb, his sister, had set up the meeting for him that morning with the equine therapy lady. He was going to go, with the sole objective of saying he had gone—but not today. Not when he looked like the crazed hermit his sister seemed to think he was. He’d call Deb, change the meeting. She’d be upset, but grudgingly oblige, because there wasn’t much else she could do other than hound him. He had no intention of engaging in any kind of therapy that was not of his own choosing. He’d done months of it before being discharged from the military and moving back to Eagle Valley to be close to his daughter. With the help of the counselors, he’d cleared up a few matters, developed some strategies, but he hadn’t been able to shake the nightmares—unless he was taking the drugs that left him useless during the day.

Deb didn’t know about the nightmares—thank goodness. She only knew that her brother was sullying her reputation as one of Eagle Valley’s social elite by living off the grid in a rustic cabin. Well, he loved this cabin. He and Lissa had spent their honeymoon here. She’d drawn up plans to renovate it, and he was going through with them, so that someday, maybe, his daughter could actually live with him.

Although...maybe renovating the cabin, following Lissa’s diagrams, tracing her handwriting with his finger, was also triggering nightmares.

Drew didn’t know, but he’d damn well bet that hanging around horses wasn’t going to help him one iota. Nevertheless, he was taking the meeting, eventually. It would get Deb off his back—for a while anyway.

* * *

HE WASN’T GOING to show.

Faith Hartman stirred cream into the coffee the waitress refilled on her way by, wondering how long she needed to wait before returning to the college and telling her boss, the registrar of Eagle Valley Community College, that the meeting was a no go. Not looking forward to that. Debra Miller-Hill hadn’t been happy when her brother had canceled the first meeting, and she’d probably be less than thrilled about him not showing up for this one.

Faith dipped her spoon into the cup, then looked up as the door to the café opened and a big man in a dark gray flannel shirt stepped inside.

Faith’s heart thumped as she dropped her gaze.

Damn.

She pulled the spoon out of her coffee, carefully setting it on the napkin before chancing another look at the man who was now casually surveying the café. His gaze passed over her and she felt a rush of relief.

Not the guy she was waiting for. She could see now that he was older than the man she was expecting, and certainly not a walled-off hermit with a thousand-mile gaze, which was exactly how Debra had described her brother.

That didn’t slow her heart down one bit. Faith knew from bitter experience that she wouldn’t feel totally safe until either the man left the café or she did. And here she’d thought she’d made such progress over the past several months.

The guy started moving, and Faith lifted her cup with both hands, concentrating on the warmth of the ceramic against her fingers, the aroma of the coffee—anything to bring her heart rate down before the guy she was supposed to meet arrived. If he did arrive.

“Faith Hartman?”

The unexpected sound of her name brought her head up and she found herself staring into ice-blue eyes. It took her a second to find her voice, because this guy—this tall, dark, trigger-inducing man—couldn’t be Debra’s brother. Could he?

She cleared her throat and managed to say, “Yes, I’m Faith,” in a remarkably normal voice.

“Drew Miller.”

Worst nightmare coming true. She somehow managed to force her lips into a smile as excuses started tumbling over themselves in her brain. Her schedule had changed...she’d decided not to take on clients...her job was taking up more time than she’d anticipated...

Get a grip.

She really hoped she could. More than once she’d left public places because of people who reminded her of her assailant. But grip or not, she wasn’t going to spend time with this guy. How could she if having him sit across the table from her made her heart race? And the worst part was that he lived relatively close to her.

Debra seemed to think that the fact that they were neighbors was a sign from above or something. It would be so handy for both of you...

Faith had agreed to the meeting and now she was in a situation.

“Are you okay?”

The abrupt question brought her back, and Faith did her best to infuse some warmth into her smile and a look of surprise into her eyes as she squeezed her hands together under the table. “I expected someone younger. Like...midtwenties?”

“Why’s that?” he asked as he eased into the booth.

“From the way your sister spoke of you, I guess.”

She certainly hadn’t expected a guy in his mid-to late-thirties who looked as if he was in command of everything around him. But she wasn’t a trained psychologist—just a woman who had helped run an equine therapy program as part of her former job. A program that Debra thought might help her brother.

Now it was his turn to fake a smile. “My sister...yes.” The smile faded. “I’m curious as to how Debra described me.”

Time to pick words carefully. Hard to do when her brain was shouting at her to leave the café. Now. “She said that you were ex-military. That you’d just moved back into the area and that you were interested in horseback riding.” Not the total truth, but tactful.

He snorted through his nose. “Did she tell you I was a basket case?”

“Uh...”

He cocked his head, no longer bothering with the smile. “Or a hermit with post-traumatic stress disorder?”

Faith swallowed. “The second.”

He gave a nod and dropped his gaze to regard his hands. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to put up with if I plan to stay in the area.”

“Do you?” According to Debra, he lived on the mountain a couple of miles from Faith’s house. Now that she knew how she reacted to him, she’d feel better if he didn’t stay.

He raised those icy-blue eyes. “I was raised here. What’s left of my family is here. So yes.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, and Faith took hold of her cup with both hands again, more for something to do than because she was going to drink the rapidly cooling contents. Drew Miller looked up again, those amazing eyes zeroing in on her.

His saving grace, those eyes. The reason she wasn’t already gone. The man who’d slammed her to the ground, put a knee on her back and cut off her ponytail with one slice of a very sharp knife had green eyes. Black hair, green eyes. A striking combination that she’d noticed at the bar an hour or so before he’d assaulted her in the rodeo ground parking lot as she’d walked back to her truck. His attack had been stopped short by a couple of men driving by, so she could only imagine what might have ensued had he not been caught...and sometimes her imagination could be brutal.

She shook off the thoughts as best she could, made a heroic attempt to sound normal as she said, “Do you want coffee or something?” He shook his head and once again the ball was in her court. “Debra said you might be interested in...” She trailed off before saying the words equine therapy. Something to do with him knowing that Debra had described him as a hermit with PTSD.

“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.

“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.

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.

“Do you really care?”

“I’m interested.”

“I’m not building a bunker or anything.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.” He let out a breath that made his shoulders sag. “I’m going ahead with the renovations that Lissa mapped out.”

Deb’s eyebrows came together. “Is that a good idea?”

Drew pretended to consider for a moment before saying, “Yes. I think it is. It’s something Maddie and I can work on together over the summer.”

Deb gave a brittle laugh. “Oh, I’m certain she’ll love that.”

Deb knew next to nothing about Maddie. She was the most hands-off aunt he knew of. Maddie was acknowledged on her birthday and at Christmas, and Drew was certain that was only because it was expected.

“She will. And so will I.”

“Drew...you need to think about this. If Maddie comes to stay with you full-time, is she really going to want to live in a mountain cabin? Even if it is renovated?” Deb cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t it be fairer to her to move to one of those nice neighborhoods they’re building on the west end of town?”

Drew gave his sister a long, hard look, wondering what her objective was. Did she honestly care about what was best for Maddie? Or was she just trying to make him fit the mold so he wouldn’t embarrass her?

“I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, and in the meantime, I’m renovating the cabin.” He let himself out of the office before she could say anything else to add to his already bad mood.

The door clicked shut behind him and after giving Penny what he hoped was a pleasant nod, he headed down the hallway toward the exit. Nobody raised his blood pressure like his sibling. He gave a small snort as he unlocked the truck. She probably thought the same about him.

Drew parked next to his brother-in-law’s shop a few minutes before Maddie’s school bus was due to arrive at three thirty. Pete, who was elbow-deep in a trash pump repair, gave him a grunt of greeting.

Earlier that morning, as soon as Maddie had caught the bus to school and Cara had taken off for work, they’d winched the Jeep up the side of the mountain and towed it to the shop, where it now sat, listing sadly on its axles.

Drew was going to have to explain to his daughter about the accident and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Maddie was a resilient kid, but she’d lost her mother, had nearly lost her father, and she didn’t need to hear that she’d almost lost him again. He wouldn’t exactly lie, but he was going to gloss over a few things. Pretty much, he’d almost hit a deer and had a little accident. Then he’d come up with a way to distract her.

“Doing okay?” Pete asked as he finished ratcheting a bolt into place.

Drew idly rubbed his left shoulder, testing for pain. The bumps and bruises from his deer encounter were nothing compared to the percussion injuries he’d suffered in Afghanistan. Injuries he’d ignored as he’d done what he could to help pull his buddies from the wreckage—it was only afterward that his body had shut down. The doctors had been amazed at what he’d managed to do despite a gaping head wound, broken ribs and a punctured lung. Sheer adrenaline had carried him through—then abandoned him. He’d gone into shock, waking up in the hospital to the news that he’d lost three friends.

He swallowed dryly. “I’m good. Not looking forward to explaining to Mads.”

“Understandable.” Pete put down the wrench and got to his feet, dusting off his hands on his jeans.

Maddie essentially had three parents now. Pete—Lissa’s brother—and his wife Cara had taken Maddie in after Lissa’s death, with the idea that she’d stay with them until Drew’s tour of duty ended. Then came the blast, the hospital stay, followed by five more months of duty. And the nightmares. He’d had to confess those to Pete and Cara when he’d arrived back in Eagle Valley four months ago, and he’d confessed about the one he’d had a few nights ago—which was why Maddie wouldn’t be staying with him as much as she hoped during the summer.

Pete jerked his head toward the line of lawn mowers near the bay door. “Those are all yours.”

“I’ll take a few with me today, pick the rest up tomorrow.”

The school bus rumbled up to the end of the driveway and the door opened with a hydraulic hiss. A few seconds later, Maddie came around the nose of the bus and headed for the shop, her expression brightening when she saw Drew step out of the bay door.

“Dad!”

His heart twisted, as it always did at the sight of his beautiful daughter. “Hey, tiger.” Before he’d left for his last tour of duty, he’d swung her up in the air when she got home from school and she’d thrown her head back and laughed. Now she was twelve, almost thirteen, and swinging in the air was no longer the thing to do. Instead they bumped fists and then she gave him a bear hug.

“Can I stay with you this weekend?” she asked, tilting her head back to look up at him. It was all Drew could do not to push her glasses a little farther up her nose. Lissa had had the same problem. Glasses simply hadn’t stayed in place.

Before he could answer, tell her that she wouldn’t be staying overnight, her eyes went wide. “What happened to the Jeep?”

Pete and Drew exchanged quick glances, then Drew said, “I swerved to hit a deer yesterday.”

“And wrecked the Jeep?”

Maddie sounded horrified, so he made an extra effort to sound casual. “It was rainy. It slid off the road.”

Maddie headed for the vehicle, her backpack bouncing on her back. She inspected the damage with a critical eye, making Drew glad that the Jeep was topless. As it was, she had no way of knowing it’d rolled. “Are you going to be able to fix it, Uncle Pete?”

“It’ll be better than it was when I get done with it.”

“Good.” She turned back to Drew. “Is the deer all right?”

He almost laughed. “Yeah, honey. I swerved, remember?”

“Good. Sorry about the Jeep, but glad about the deer.” She gave her father a sidelong look. “Does this mean I won’t be spending the night this weekend?”

Maddie knew about his nightmares, knew why he spent his nights alone. She was also convinced that if she moved in, then he wouldn’t have them anymore. “Because you’ll have me there,” she’d told him a few months ago, after his discharge.

“I just...think it would be best. But we can have pizza tonight, and I’ll get you first thing in the morning.”

Maddie didn’t argue. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t argue. “Okay, but it really has to be first thing.”

“How does 6:00 a.m. sound?”

“Horrible,” Pete muttered.

“Ignore him,” Maddie said with a grin. “I’ll be waiting on the porch.”

* * *

THIRTY MINUTES TO quitting time. Faith pulled her attention back to the open folder in front of her. A big part of her job involved pulling old files and scanning the information into digital format so that alumni who’d graduated prior to the digital age could have easy access to their records.

Faith doubted that she would have liked the job before the assault. She’d enjoyed interacting with people, but now she preferred being alone, having minimal contact with her fellow employees. Working her way through the archives while listening to music. Essentially hiding from the world. The job made her feel safe, but the hours did seem to drag on.

“Faith?”

Her head jerked up at the sound of her boss’s voice, and her heart did a guilty double beat—which wasn’t fair. It sucked being caught between a rock and a hard place. But if push came to shove, she owed more loyalty to Debra than to her brother...even if, hands down, she preferred the man who reminded her of her attacker. What did that say about her?

That she liked having a job in safe surroundings.

“Yes?” She forced a bright note into her voice while wondering if she was about to be taken down for hiding vital information from her superior.

Debra glanced at the clock. “Would you stop by my office before you go home?”

“Certainly. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you.” Debra didn’t bother with her fake smile, which made Faith’s stomach tighten a little more. After Debra left, she closed the file. She’d worked through her break, as she often did—it wasn’t like she really needed to sit in the small staff room and socialize—so she wasn’t cheating the college by leaving early. She’d put in her hours.

What now? She let her head fall back, tried to remember a time when she hadn’t automatically expected the worst.

Actually, it was very easy to remember that time—it was her entire life up until the assault had shifted her perspective. She was getting damned tired of shifted perspective.

Faith set the closed file on top of her Done pile and pushed her chair away from her desk. Why wait to find out what Debra wanted? If it was bad news, then she might as well get it now. She grabbed her purse, locked the door to her small basement office and headed for the stairs rather than the elevator. When she reached the registrar’s office, she gave a quick rap on the open inner-office door. Debra looked up, then waved her inside.

“Please close the door.”

Faith already had it half-shut.

“My brother told me about his accident—and your part in aiding him. Thank you.”

Relief washed over her. Drew Miller had been as good as his word. “I’m glad you understand. I didn’t feel right keeping the matter quiet, but he wanted to tell you himself.”

“I do understand.” Debra gave her shoulders an odd little roll before meeting Faith’s gaze. “However...in the future...if something of a serious nature occurs, I would very much appreciate a heads-up. Just a hint that I should be aware that all is not well in my brother’s life. You don’t have to spill all the beans—just let me know I need to look into things.”

The warm feeling of relief had started evaporating at the word however, and by the time Debra was done speaking, Faith was once again in defensive mode.

“I can’t get involved in your family matters.” She should have made this position clear from the very beginning, shouldn’t have agreed to meet Debra’s brother, but she’d caved to stay on Debra’s good side—and because she believed in equine therapy. Now she regretted that decision.

“I’m not asking you as a boss. Please understand that.” Faith’s eyebrows rose. “Drew is not the man he used to be and until he is...well, it would help me to know what’s going on. So that I can help him.”

A hard knot was forming in Faith’s stomach. “I doubt I’ll see your brother again.”

“That’s very possible. But...” Debra’s expression became even more serious and there was a faint pleading note in her voice as she said, “You are his neighbor, and if you notice anything unusual, will you please tell me? I’m worried about Drew. I want him to get better.”

Faith sucked in a breath. “I don’t think I’ll see Drew,” she repeated, hoping that Debra would believe her. “However, I will tell you if I notice anything disturbing.”

As in very disturbing. Call-the-sheriff disturbing. Otherwise, she was not getting involved.

“Thank you.” Debra smiled in a grateful kind of way.

“Of course.”

Faith was almost to the door when Debra said, “Faith? Please understand how much I appreciate this. I won’t forget your help.”

Faith gave a quick nod and left the office, wondering what would happen if she did know about something and kept her mouth shut. Deb might not take overt action, but she could make Faith miserable. That said, Faith knew with a certainty she wasn’t going to spy on Drew. Her perspective of the man had shifted since the accident. Drew was nothing like her attacker. He was a guy who’d been through hell and was fighting his way back. Even though she’d automatically locked her truck door during their confrontation the night before, she’d started to feel a connection with the man. He understood. She knew that instinctively. And he was hurting, just as she was, which made her wish she hadn’t needed to lock the door to protect herself. That she could allow herself to trust him. That maybe they could share insights.

Nice fantasy, Hartman. Like she was ready to open up to a virtual stranger.

But you did. Last night.

Faith shushed her small voice, unlocked her truck and got inside, tossing her tote onto the passenger seat. She’d continue to handle things in the safest way possible—alone.

As soon as she got home, Faith set up the barrels in the arena and saddled Tommy, her black-and-white paint barrel horse. She needed to blow off some steam after the unsettling day. She had a job where she could earn a decent paycheck with no unexpected triggers, because no one except for Debra and the occasional administrative associate ever ventured into her realm. And because her job seemed so perfect, maybe she was imagining threats where there were none.

No maybe about it. She was overreacting. Manufacturing trouble. It wasn’t like Debra could fire her because she didn’t spy on her brother. That was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

If she could prove it.

Tommy was in the mood to run and Faith let him do his thing, losing herself in the moment as she tried to make every run perfect. She’d only run the barrels once or twice a week when she’d been in serious competition, spending most of her training time working on flexing, bending and speed. But she was no longer in serious competition, so she could essentially do whatever she wanted, and tonight, she wanted to run.

When she was done, both she and the gelding were sweating. Their times were improving, and as Faith dismounted, she felt a familiar stirring of resentment. She’d been on track to make the National Finals Rodeo when the attack had taken her out of competition. It was supposed to have been her year. And then her world had been turned inside out by a sicko.

Faith returned to her too-quiet house, Sully close by her side, reminded herself that she liked the quiet and then turned on some music. Maybe it was her encounter with Debra, or maybe it was simply the summer stretching ahead of her without a lot to fill it that had her feeling antsy—at loose ends.

Last summer, she’d been focused on getting her feet back under her, even though it felt like a year should have been a long enough time to get it back together. It hadn’t been.

She’d made two attempts to compete in small rodeos after the anniversary of her attack had passed, having convinced herself everything would somehow be better after the one-year mark. On her first attempt, she hadn’t even made it out of the driveway. On the second, she’d driven to the rodeo, but once there, the sights and sounds—the smells—had brought on a full-fledged panic attack. She’d tried to force things too soon.

Would she try again this year?

She wanted that part of her life back. Deep down, she was still as competitive as hell, and resented not being able to do what she once did so well.

Solution?

She needed to suck it up. Sign up for some rodeos even if she didn’t go...and, if she was serious about returning to competition, she needed to face the unpleasantness of demanding her custom barrel racing saddle back from her ex-boyfriend. The saddle she rode in now was perfectly adequate, but it wasn’t the saddle she’d bought with her winnings. The saddle she’d waited a year to be made and which represented her as a professional. The saddle that she bet Hallie Johnson was probably riding in right now. It hadn’t taken long for Faith’s ex to hook up with the hottest girl on the circuit.

She reached for the phone, then put it back down.

Did she really want to ruin her evening by contacting Jared?

No.

Which was why she didn’t have her saddle back. No night ever seemed worth ruining. A year ago, she hadn’t needed the saddle, so she’d never called. This year...she wasn’t letting herself off the hook.

Faith picked up the phone, found Jared’s name in her contacts and pushed the number. It rang and her heartbeat ratcheted up ever so slightly. Even small confrontations were harder for her than they’d once been. The call went to voice mail, and Faith wondered if it was because he didn’t recognize the number. Or because he did. Maybe Jared didn’t feel like discussing saddles with his ex.

She hesitated, then left a message. “Hey, Jared. It’s Faith. I’m calling to set up a time to get my saddle. Call me back.”

She hung up, glad on the one hand that she’d gotten the ball rolling, nervous now about the return call—which came within minutes.

“Faith! How are you?”

“I’m...better.” Her voice sounded totally normal as she spoke to the guy who’d let her down when she needed him most.

“Still working at the riding stable?”

“No. I got a job at a college. Benefits and everything.”

“Excellent.” He spoke a little too jovially. “You’re calling about the saddle.”

“Yeah. I am.”

Before she could ask him about setting up a time and place to meet, he said, “You know, I’ve been meaning to call you about that saddle. I’d kind of like to buy it from you.”

“Starting a new rodeo career?”

It took him a second to catch on, but when he did, he laughed. “No. I’m not barrel racing. But since you won’t be using it—”

“Who said I won’t be using it?”

There was a healthy pause, then Jared said, “You’re going to start competing again?”

“I might. And even if I don’t, it’s still my saddle and I want it back. For sentimental reasons if nothing else.”

“On the other hand, you could have some cold hard cash, and that trumps sentiment every time, right?”

“Who has my saddle?”

“Uh...”

“Who, Jared?”

“Does it matter? If you don’t want to sell, I’ll get it to you.”

“Ship it.”

“Ship it? That gets into some serious bucks, babe.”

“You gave my saddle away. Get it back to me or I’ll see you in small-claims court.”

Her heart was hammering, but she also felt empowered. Like her old self.

“Faith—”

“Send it to Eagle Valley Community College. The registrar’s office. I’ll give you the street address when you’re ready.”

“All right.” There was a sullen note to his voice—almost as if he were dreading the task of retrieving her saddle from whomever he’d given it to. Tough. “Give me the address.”

Faith rattled off the address, made him read it back to her, then asked, “When can I expect to receive it?”

“Soon.”

“Give me a ballpark.”

“Give me a break. We both know you’re not going to use it.”

Faith just stopped the screw you from dropping from her lips. “You have two weeks, or I’m going to file the court papers.” Even if it meant traveling to Flathead County, where he now lived.

“Fine.” He hung up without another word, leaving Faith holding her phone, amazed at how good it had felt to stand up for herself.

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