Page 6 of The Way Back Home
“You’re gonna get spoiled, big guy,” she murmured, running her fingers lightly over his velvety nose. Butshe gave him another apple, just as he had known she would.
“He can do with a little spoiling,” Mona said. “I don’t think he saw a lot of kindness before he came here. But that’s what Hopewell is all about, isn’t it? A place to heal.”
Teagan suspected Mona wasn’t just talking about the patients who came for therapy. The older woman had a caring, motherly vibe that offered subtle promises of compassion and acceptance.
That was the scariest part of all. Teagan couldn’t afford to let her guard down. To let anyone get close.
So she said nothing.
“Well,” Mona said after several minutes of weighty silence, “I’ve got some paperwork I need to finish up tonight. You just keep doing what you’re doing.”
As Mona walked back toward the office, Teagan let herself into the paddock. Onyx responded to her closeness by scuffing his hooves quietly against the dirt and lowering his head. His trust was a welcome warmth in her chest.
The sun bled across the sky in streaks of gold and fire, casting long shadows across the pasture. In that moment, Teagan felt the closest thing to peace she’d felt in a long time.
She tugged her ball cap lower, as if to block out the unwelcome hope curling sharp and bright in her chest. Then she grabbed fistfuls of Onyx’s long mane and swung herself onto his back, hardening herself to reality.
Places like this don’t last. People like me don’t get to stay.
CHAPTER THREE
NOAH
Noah stared out of the office window, absently watching the new stablehand lead the huge stallion around one of the several fenced-in courses. The kid had only been around for a couple of weeks, but he seemed to know what he was doing.
Mona had mentioned that she’d taken on a new hire to care for the horses but hadn’t offered up any additional information. The only time he’d even glimpsed the kid was during moments like this—at the end of the day and from far away. The rest of the time, the handler remained scarce.
Noah figured there was a story there. If he’d learned anything about Mona over the past few months, it was that she was the protective type, like a mama bear.
He looked again at the kid’s small stature, which looked even smaller against the massive beast. From this distance and in the fading light, it was hard tomake out the details beneath the baseball-style cap tucked down low; the oversize flannel shirt; baggy, straight-legged Wranglers; and standard-issue shitkickers. He was too scrawny to be out of his teens, but he moved with a fluidity rarely seen in one so young.
“How old is that kid anyway?” he asked, sensing Mona coming into the office behind him.
Mona joined him at the window and followed his gaze. Moments later, the kid mounted the horse with a graceful leapwhile it was in motion, just like in some old Western.
“Old enough,” the woman replied cryptically. “I take it you two haven’t met?”
Noah shook his head. “No. I’ve tried to introduce myself a few times, but he always seems to disappear before I can get close enough.”
“T’s the shy, quiet type,” Mona said. “Not too keen on meeting new folk. Best damn worker I’ve had in a long time, though.”
“Pretty good with the horses, too, it looks like,” Noah observed as yet another horse was led toward the stables.
His family had always had horses, so he was familiar enough with them to know they weren’t always the friendliest or most accommodating creatures.
“Yep.”
Noah continued to watch the show as dusk settled more firmly. It was less than a week away from Christmas, though the weather was unseasonably warm, with a chill more suited to early autumn than winter.
Returning to her desk, Mona busied herself with filing papers and tidying up. She traditionally closed the ranch for several weeks around the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. Her sons and their families were coming for an extended visit, and she was anxious to start on her baking.
Mona was like his mother in that respect. Everyone in his family converged on his parents’ home for Christmas too, and knowing his mother, she’d already been baking for days.
Which reminded him—he’d be heading northeast soon as well. He wasn’t looking forward to the trip. He’d be staying in one of the cabins on the family property, but he’d still be expected to interact and participate in family dinners and assorted holiday whatevers.
He wondered vaguely if the new kid would be sticking around. It wasn’t like the horses took a holiday. Someone needed to see to their care and feeding.
“When are you leaving?” Mona asked, closing the last drawer of the filing cabinet with finality.
