Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TEAGAN
Teagan ran the brush down Chester’s left flank while he munched contentedly on fresh alfalfa.
The motions were rote, at once soothing and comforting.
She felt at peace here, with only the horses and Bear to keep her company.
Animals didn’t care if you were pretty or smart.
They didn’t care if you made mistakes or had a less than honorable past. They didn’t judge you based on anything more than your heart and your kindness.
Unlike people, for whom judgment and cruelty were skilled art forms.
Not everyone, of course. She had met some amazing people along her journey. Most recently, Mona, Noah, and Noah’s family—with the possible exception of Alex.
If nothing else, Noah had given her the best Christmas she’d ever had.
She’d woken up amid a cocoon of cozy blankets in front of a fire.
Opened her eyes to gaze upon the seven-foot pine he’d cut for her the night before.
Gazed out the window to see the half a foot of fresh snow glistening like white diamonds in the bright morning sunlight.
And then there was the quiet breakfast they’d shared, just the two of them.
She accepted it for what it was—the calm before the storm that tomorrow would bring—and wanted to savor every minute of it.
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.
That he was 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 no sir. Don’t insult me like that.”
“Sorry, Mr. Ziegler,” she stammered.
Noah’s dad pulled an apple out of his pocket and held it 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.
In that instant, she had a crazy urge to tell him everything—who she was, what she was facing, how scared she was. He’d look at her with that kind face, maybe pat her shoulder, tell her everything would be all right. And it would be.
Then a more realistic scenario forced its way into her mind. One where those kind eyes looked at her with a mixture of pity and shock. Like his son, he would do what he could out of a strong sense of right and wrong, but the disappointment that came from learning the shameful truth would be there.
No, there would be no sharing or baring of souls today. If life had taught her anything, it was that she couldn’t—and shouldn’t—count on others to clean up her messes.
“Thanks,” she managed, summoning a small smile. “I appreciate that. But I’m good.”
“Hmm.” He frowned slightly, as though working through a difficult problem, and ate the rest of his apple in silence.
Teagan continued to brush Chester until he was gleaming, and then she moved on to Aspen.
Eventually, Noah’s dad picked up a shovel and went into the white mare’s stall. He paused, rubbing his hand across his jaw when he saw there was nothing to do. “You cleaned the stalls?”
“Yes,” she answered.
It was the first thing she had done after Noah had gone to the house. Shoveling shit and forking hay hadn’t been easy with her injuries, but she’d worked through harder tasks with worse, and she wanted to do something in return for their kindness. It was Christmas, after all.
“You fed them as well?”
“Yes.”
Martin Ziegler mumbled to himself for a moment. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Mr. Ziegler,” she said.
“Merry Christmas, Teagan.” He began to walk away, then paused and turned halfway back to face her. “Noah’s a good man. Always has been,” he said.
“Yes,” Teagan agreed.
“Glad we agree on that,” he said, nodding as if something had just been resolved.
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the stables, whistling, leaving Teagan with the feeling that she had just missed something important.