Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gratitude.
It wasn’t a foreign concept.
Jacob knew how to be gracious. He knew how to show the people around him how much he appreciated them. The problem wasn’t in understanding the idea, the problem came in actually following through.
For as long as he could remember, he’d been the man who helped others.
He’d been the one on the receiving end of gratitude.
No, it wasn’t an excuse, but he couldn’t help but acknowledge how strange it was to be stuck on the side of the line drawn in the sand where he had to accept help that was offered.
If he were honest, it wasn’t the act of saying thank you that bothered him. The way his skin itched whenever he had to accept help of any kind was what got in the way. He’d been so focused on feeling worthless and incapable that showing his thanks slipped his mind.
While he stared at yet another home-cooked meal that had been placed before him, he was quickly coming to a deeper realization.
He was a terrible person. He’d said some terrible things a few days ago when Hallie had only been trying to help.
He’d blurted the one thing he’d told himself he wouldn’t say.
He didn’t blame Hallie.
At least he knew that much.
He could never blame her for the situation he was in. If there had been anyone else in that field when he showed up, he would have done the same thing for them. The anger he had was easily directed at the unknown status of his future.
“Is something wrong with it?”
Jacob’s head snapped up and his eyes connected with Hallie’s. There was the most adorable frown tugging at her lips and the way she hovered like she’d steal the plate back to fix it almost made him smile. “No, nothing’s wrong,” he insisted.
Her frown deepened. “But you’re not eating.”
He shifted in his seat. It was still incredibly difficult to get comfortable but the way she was studying him had him fidgeting even more. “Will you be eating lunch with me?”
Did she think he didn’t want to share meals with her? That was something else that had changed. The first couple of times, she’d made herself scarce while he ate and he thought she was busy with something else. But now he knew better.
Hallie placed a hand on her hip, her expression impassive. “I’m busy.”
“Liar,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?” she scoffed.
He attempted to lift a shoulder, but he probably looked like he was twitching instead.
“What do you have to do? You’re my glorified babysitter, right?
And this place is as spotless as it was when you moved in.
What could you possibly have that needs doing?
” Jacob expected her to explode or get irritated with him.
They’d been dancing around each other, trying to find their new normal and he wasn’t sure what to expect.
Finally, she sighed and moved across the room toward the casserole she’d prepared. Then she filled a plate and returned to sit across from him. He watched her carefully, but she didn’t meet his eyes.
Since their argument, he’d started to pay more attention to her.
There really wasn’t much more he could do but watch as she busied herself with various things around the house.
He’d been right. The cabin was spotless, and yet she managed to find things to clean, to tidy.
It wasn’t just cooking and laundry. She even helped with caring for his horse and taking him out to the small pasture he had on the premises.
Anything to keep her distance.
Anything to avoid conversation.
He’d done that.
He’d put the wedge between them, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
That had her eyes lifting to meet his. The surprise in her gaze gutted him. Yep, she hadn’t expected him to thank her. And that said a heck of a lot about the way he’d been treating their arrangement.
They ate in silence. Every time he tried to come up with something to say, he’d swallow down the words. Anything he might have brought up would sound trite.
After lunch, she’d suggested he take a nap. The thought sounded so good, he didn’t fight her on it. Heck, he might be a terrible patient, but he’d been put in his place well enough.
When he got up from his nap, the house was quiet. Hallie’s sweet perfume lingered in the air, indicating she was still close. She’d probably gone outside to feed his horse.
Hallie was a saint. She was doing so much more for him than anyone else might. Kai had made the suggestion that he take his horse over to Sagebrush so someone could take care of him. He’d nearly agreed but Hallie insisted she’d be fine.
And she was right.
His friend was more than capable of doing everything he needed. And she was doing it with that infuriatingly beautiful smile on her face.
Jacob moved to the only window that oversaw that part of the property and peered out to see if he could get a glimpse of the woman who was quickly getting under his skin.
She wasn’t at the barn as he’d expected.
But she was with his horse. Zeus grazed in the small pasture, his sleek black coat shimmering like it had just been brushed.
But he wasn’t what drew Jacob’s attention.
It was the woman who was with him.
Hallie had her camera in hand—a camera he’d nearly forgotten she’d had with her when he’d found her in that pasture with the bull. Come to think of it, he’d never seen her with a camera before and now he’d caught her with it twice.
How many years had they been friends? He’d never heard her talk about photography before. He’d never seen evidence that she enjoyed taking pictures. In fact, he’d thought he’d known everything there was to know about this girl. And yet he’d been proven wrong.
A breeze ruffled her hair, tugging the strands away from her face but also moving Zeus’s mane and tail.
The sun was setting, casting the whole property in orange and golden hues.
He could already imagine the majestic pictures Hallie might have captured in these moments and his desire to ask her about them grew.
But then a thought stopped him.
Hallie had kept this interest from him. Whether she did it on purpose or not didn’t matter. The years of friendship they shared should have unearthed this secret passion by now. Chances were high she didn’t want anyone to know.
Why?
Why didn’t Hallie want to share something like that with him?
The question nagged at him as he continued to watch her move around Zeus. The camera looked almost old fashioned. He doubted it had digital capabilities. Where had she gotten it? So many questions about this strange new side of her that she’d kept secret.
By the time she returned inside, the camera was out of sight. He didn’t know where she’d stashed it but based on the startled surprise written all over her face when she entered the cabin, she hadn’t expected him to be up and about.
Her hand flew to her chest and she sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re up.”
Jacob gave her a wry smile. “Can’t sleep my life away.”
“No,” she agreed, “but rest allows your body to heal.”
“I’m not stupid, Hallie.” He grimaced at his choice of words.
“Sorry. What I mean to say is that I’m not expecting to get better faster just because I take vitamin D supplements or get extra sleep.
And honestly, I’ve already accepted that I might not be able to get back in that arena.
I’m better off trying to figure out something else to do with my life. ”
Shock rippled through her expression and she took a step toward him, shaking her head vehemently. “Jacob, no. You can’t think like that—”
He held up a hand. “It’s fine. I’m… fine.”
Lies.
Lies to her.
Lies to himself.
He looked away from her so she wouldn’t be able to read the truth in his gaze. “What’s for dinner? Anything I can help with?”
The silence that grew between them only made him more agitated.
He didn’t like discussing his future. That was a hard limit as far as he was concerned.
While there was no way for him to know for sure how everything would turn out, he’d never been the optimistic type.
He’d chased down dreams that were attainable.
He’d gone into this career knowing the risks, but he hadn’t expected to be ripped out of it like this.
“Jacob—” she tried again.
He glanced at her this time, forcing a smile he knew didn’t reach his eyes.
“Please, Hallie. Let’s just… not. Okay? Dinner?
Maybe I can stand at the stove and stir the pasta or something?
” He didn’t add that it was the most mundane thing he could possibly do to help and probably the only thing he was good at.
Any disparaging thoughts he might have had would only push Hallie to continue the conversation and he refused to let this go a second further.
Apparently, she saw the pleading in his eyes because she didn’t fight him on it. She simply nodded and moved into the kitchen. “I wasn’t going to make pasta tonight, but if you need something to keep yourself busy, then you can help prepare the salad.”
Once again, their evening was spent in a strange, uncomfortable silence. Avoidance of topics he refused to discuss and the temptation to ask her something he didn’t feel he deserved to know. He nearly asked her about the camera three separate times but was able to refrain.
After dinner, they moved to the living room where they settled on the couch to watch television. He had the remote in hand and as he flipped through the channels, he didn’t even allow himself to linger on the one he knew would be broadcasting the bigger rodeo events.
If Hallie noticed, she didn’t show it. She had a book in hand, but he couldn’t see the title. Her legs were curled up beneath her as she read and he found an action film he hadn’t been able to watch yet.
The tension between them only seemed to thicken. It grew, festered, and took on a life of its own. Whenever he looked over at her, she seemed to be immune to what he was feeling. But he knew better.
It got to the point that he couldn’t take it any longer. He twisted awkwardly toward her. “Hallie?”
“Hmm?” She kept her eyes on her book and didn’t lift her eyes.
“Will you look at me?”
Her focus flicked toward him.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“The way I’ve been acting.”
She returned her focus to her book. “You’ve apologized already.”
“No.” He reached over to her and forced her book into her lap.
“I’m sorry. For everything. For my mood.
For the way I’ve been acting. For not showing you just how much I appreciate what you’re doing…
even after…” He let the sentence hang in the air.
Neither one of them had brought up that conversation—the one responsible for their strained friendship.
Recognition shone in her eyes and her cheeks flushed.
“Anyway,” he murmured, “I wanted to make sure you knew. How sorry I am. And how much I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. What you’re doing for me. That you’re still here despite it all.”
She blinked rapidly and he thought for sure she’d start crying. That wasn’t what he’d wanted. Shoot! This was supposed to bridge the gap he’d put between them. But he was only making it worse. His assumption was proven when she got to her feet and headed into the kitchen.
Jacob attempted to follow her, but his muscles and his bones protested. Then he heard it. The tell-tell sound of his phone vibrating. He’d left it at the table. Before he could tell Hallie not to, she grabbed it.
Her eyes darted to his. “Someone named Ryker messaged you.”
Grimacing, he got to his feet and held out his hand. When she placed it in his grasp, he muttered his thanks.
“Who’s Ryker?” She asked.
He glanced down at the message that was clear on the screen. The words that she most definitely saw.
Ryker: You can’t keep avoiding me. I heard what happened. Call me now Jacob.
He cleared his throat as he gripped the phone tight in his hand. “Nobody.” Then he reached for his crutch and hobbled to his room. “Goodnight, Hallie.” All thoughts of bridging that gap with her was forgotten with his brother’s message.
Ryker knew. And now Jacob was going to have to deal with a different kind of fallout.