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.”