Page 48 of The Way Back Home
Noah had gone to the main house and didn’t object when Teagan begged off to go to the stables instead. She felt a twinge of guilt about that. She’d come here to help him, not hide among the horses and leave him to deal with his family, but he assured her it was fine. Thathewas fine and that she’d already helped a great deal just by being there.
Not that she’d believed him. When she’d called bullshit, he’d looked at her with those gorgeous eyes, flashed one of those half smiles she’d secretly come to crave, and told her that if things started getting hairy, he’d use her as an excuse for escape.
“Never seen him take to anyone so quick.”
Startled, Teagan jumped back into a defensive stance, holding the heavy wooden brush like a weapon. The calm vibes vanished instantly, and she mentally kicked herself for getting so caught up in her thoughts that she’d allowed someone to approach without her knowing.
That life lesson had been a hard one, learned at an early age.
“Whoa, easy there,” Martin Ziegler said, putting his hands up. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”
Teagan peeked under Chester’s head and saw Noah’s father leaning casually against the stall post. His smile was warm and friendly, but his eyes were sharp and assessing.
“No, it’s fine,” she said quietly. “You just startled me, is all. I didn’t hear you coming.”
He nodded. “My Molly says I have a way of sneaking up on people.”
“I guess that’s where Alex gets it from.”
Mr. Ziegler laughed. “No wonder my son likes you. You’ve got spirit. And a gift with horses, I hear.”
Teagan looked down at her shoes, unsure of how to respond to that. “Thanks.”
“Noah says you work with the horses out on Mona’s ranch. That right?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, taking the brush to Chester’s mane to give her hands something to do so Noah’s dad wouldn’t see them shaking.
She’d seen him once before, a very long time ago, in a cemetery. He’d wrapped her in his coat then and held her hand until the policemen came. There were more lines and wrinkles now in his kind features, but he still carried the same quiet aura of safety as he had then.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to recognize her. Then again, twenty-some-odd years did make a difference.
Chester whinnied softly and nuzzled her, anxious for her to get back to the brushing.
“Sir!” He snorted. “I am nosir. Don’t insult me like that.”
“Sorry, Mr. Ziegler,” she stammered.
Noah’s dad pulled an apple out of his pocket and heldit up for Chester, who accepted the snack gratefully. Then he pulled out another and took a bite himself.
“Will you be going back to the ranch with Noah at the end of the holidays?”
Her brush strokes slowed.
“No. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I have some things I need to take care of,” she told him evasively. Her voice was even, calm. Resigned. As was she.
“Can’t it wait until after the new year?”
“I’ve put it off for too long as it is.”
One more day, one more hour, and she might lose her courage. Worse, if someone recognized her, she might be painting a target on Noah and his family.
“Anything we can help with?” he asked casually. “Molly and I, we know it’s kind of crazy right now with the grandkids here and all, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
Something about the way he said it made Teagan lift her head up sharply. His eyes—a golden amber, like Noah’s—seemed to look right into her soul, as if he could see everything she’d hidden there.
