Chapter Six
Aiden woke slowly, stretching out on the soft mattress.
He waited for the familiar jolt of pain, the deep, burning ache in his hip that usually followed a day of overexertion.
He braced himself, expecting the “hell to pay” he’d joked about to Colleen last night.
Instead, he felt the same dull and constant ache that came with any ordinary day.
A stiff reminder, but nothing like the sharp, immobilizing pain he’d expected from experience.
He rolled to his side, testing the movement. So far so good. Progress.
Following the slow, deliberate movements he’d practiced in physical therapy, he showered, dressed, and made his way to breakfast without incident, eaten more than he had any business eating, and then he spent the remainder of the morning doing as little as possible.
Tossing a good size twig for Brady to retrieve.
Lingering over a second and third cup of coffee, and then for the heck of it, grabbed a screwdriver to fix a loose hinge on the back door making it just a tad difficult to shut.
Now the thing swung open and latched shut with perfect precision.
By the time lunch came and went, the morning’s stiffness had worked itself down to something he could mostly ignore.
Now he stood at the sink—despite Alice’s protests—drying platters and pots that the woman refused to put in the dishwasher.
He found himself thinking about last night, about Colleen’s explanation of equine therapy.
The way she had spoken about the horses’ ability to force balance, to make “muscles that went quiet” work again, had resonated with him.
He was tired of having to fight every movement, of having to consciously remind himself how to walk.
Outside the kitchen window, Colleen was setting up the paddock.
He’d noticed her come out of the barn shortly after he’d begun drying the dishes.
She moved with the particular efficiency of someone who had done this a million times.
There was no doubt, no hesitation, just precision and execution.
She moved with purpose, adjusting hurdles and setting up cones.
Boots, the sweet-faced horse from the barn tour, stood nearby, patiently observing.
“She’s setting up,” Alice continued, as if reading his thoughts. “I told her to take her time, but Colleen’s always been a go-getter.”
Aiden watched Colleen smooth down a patch of dirt with a shovel, then take a step back to eye her work.
He realized how much he’d enjoyed their conversation on the porch.
Just outside the gate she’d set up some sort of mounting system.
At least that’s what he guessed. The other choice was a chute for bull riding, but in his present condition that was extremely unlikely.
“You know, she learned from the best.” Pride shone in Alice’s eyes. Something he noticed in this part of the country. A strong sense of community…and pride in that community.
The Bronx had been like that back in his parents and grandparents day, not so much any more. “She’s good, isn’t she?” Not that he needed Alice to answer, he already knew.
“She’s better than good.” Alice handed him another platter. “The Farradays don’t take just anyone on. Connor is selective about his horses and Hannah is selective about who she trains. Between the two of them, their reputation is known all across the continent and then some.”
“Kade mentioned something about the Farradays.” At the time he wasn’t in the mood to pay a whole lot of attention, but words like best of the best came to mind.
His gaze followed Colleen’s every move. Studied how she crouched beside the base of the pole checking something at ground level and wondered what she was thinking.
That, at least, was safer territory than admiring her curves.
Next, she stood upright, Brady at the fence line watching her with the same intensity that Aiden was.
She crouched again, stood and straightened.
Apparently satisfied, she walked the perimeter of the paddock looking at the ground, looking at the fence line and looking at Boots.
The animal had moved to the paddock gate and with her ears forward and her head high, watching Colleen intently.
“Colleen trained under some of the best practitioners in the state before she ever set foot at Farraday’s,” Alice continued. “We’re all very excited to have her back. Until now, anyone injured had to drive to Butler Springs for physical therapy.”
Aiden turned his attention back to the window and the woman who had captured his interest, probably more than she should have.
Colleen gave Boots a gentle pat on the neck before leading the horse to a different part of the paddock.
There seemed to be many sides to Colleen Gleeson, and he very much wanted to get to know more of them.
The woman wasn’t just a physical therapist. She was a specialist in a field that sounded both foreign and strangely necessary for someone like him.
There was a sense of duty both to patients and family; after all, she’d come home, hadn’t she.
He loved his family, but after all his years in the service, New York City, in so many ways, seemed very far away.
Leaving Boots waiting in the paddock, she came through the gate, pausing to examine the structure that sat to one side.
From where he stood, he could make out a large square and what seemed like steps on either side of an empty space.
Had to be something that would make mounting a horse easier for someone, like himself, with limitations.
Another moment of careful observation and she spun around and started back toward the house.
Pulled back in a high ponytail, her hair swayed rhythmically with each step.
Half way across the yard, she lifted her gaze to the house, spotted them at the window, and gave a quick wave accompanied by a bright smile.
Something akin to hope fluttered deep in his chest. Until now, he’d given up ever coming close to being the man he was. Now, he desperately wanted to be even better, and it had very little to do with his gait and everything to do with the woman who held his world in her well trained hands.
Colleen had checked and double checked that everything was ready to go the way the Farraday’s therapy program worked. She had a long way to go before she could compare her operation to Connor and Hannah’s, but it was a good start.
“Ready to handle your first patient?” Clint had come up beside her.
“Ready as ever.” She slowed her pace. “I’m so thankful to Ms. Alice for the use of Boots and the ranch.”
“You should talk to her about that. That woman has a heart—and will—as big as Texas.”
Any fool could see how much this man loved his wife.
The gleam in his eyes at the mere mention of Alice was more than telling.
“For now, my parents are helping me convert the garage to a PT set up, but I need an operation like this to do equine therapy and that’s a bit out of my realm of options, and despite your wife’s offering, I can’t take advantage of her. ”
Clint tipped his head and smiled. “My wife doesn’t pay lip service. You may not know Alice as well as you think you do.”
Just then one of the hands called to him from one of the storage buildings.
“On my way,” Clint called back before turning to Colleen. “I’ll see you later.”
She gave him a smile and nod and a few feet ahead, stepped onto the porch and walked into the kitchen. “Ready for your first session?”
Heaving a deep sigh, Aiden set a dish towel on the counter and nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“That’s the attitude.” Though she would have preferred something a little more enthusiastic, she’d take whatever positives she could get. After all, none of this was easy for a man like Aiden.
At the paddock, Aiden eyed the mounting stand.
“It will be easier to get on a horse with this.”
All he did was nod, but his eyes narrowed and his gaze lasered in on the block, studying every inch. “Who made this for you?”
“Clint and some of the hands. Connor Farraday was nice enough to email the specs to Alice and Clint. When I moved back to town it was ready for you.”
“If you think this will work, we’d better get the show on the road.”
It wasn’t easy walking up the steps, but it was way better than trying to heave up on a stirrup and then swing his leg—and all his weight—over the saddle.
Getting him up wasn’t graceful. She hadn’t expected it to be and she didn’t make anything of it, simply positioned herself where she was useful, kept her voice even and her eyes where they needed to be, and let him work through it in his own sequence.
When he finally settled into the saddle, she read him in the first three seconds.
Braced. Waiting for pain. Slowly, she started the session, walking Boots around the perimeter of the paddock with Aiden on her back.
At first, trying to overcompensate for his injury, Aiden’s posture was rigid, his muscles tight.
“Relax,” she coaxed softly. “Let Boots do the work. Allow your body to respond to the motion.”
He barely nodded, but slowly as they circled the paddock, the tension bled from his shoulders.
Boots continued to take one slow step then another.
His body needed to receive the information it had been waiting for.
Not dramatic—nothing about this first session would be dramatic, that wasn’t the point.
And then she saw it. The subtle shift as Aiden’s pelvis began to respond to the mare’s movement without being asked.
The infinitesimal release in his lower back as something that had been locked tight for months was asked to move in a pattern it recognized from before any of this happened.
After the third circuit she brought them to a stop. “That’s enough for today.”
He looked at her.
“I mean it. First session is always shorter than the patient thinks it should be.”
A beat. “I was fine.”
“You were. Which is exactly why we stop now.” She held Boots steady while he dismounted, watched the way he landed, catalogued it without comment. “Same time tomorrow.”
“Fine,” he finally agreed with that expression that told her he wanted to argue and had already decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
In the distance she heard tires on gravel, coming around the side of the house.
Sarah Sue’s vehicle. Colleen stilled. Beside her, Boots lifted her head, ears swinging toward the sound.
And from across the paddock, Brady—who had been stretched out in his usual spot by the fence—rose to his feet in a single fluid motion and stood looking toward the driveway with his tail perfectly still and his nose reading the air.
Sarah Sue appeared first, coming around the corner of the house at a slow, measured pace. Behind her, on a lead, a German Shepherd moved with mechanical compliance and little curiosity.
“Romeo.” Aiden muttered. “He’s beautiful.”
Dark faced, thick through the chest, Romeo was the kind of animal that turned heads.
“Oh my,” Colleen said. “Poor baby.”
“Yeah.” Aiden sighed. “He’s hurting. He’s not doing what off duty dogs do. Not alert, not reactive, not aggressive, tail hanging perfectly still. Romeo is somewhere else entirely. Present in body and absent in every way that mattered.”
Her head bobbed. “Agreed.”
“Too bad we can’t get him on the back end of a horse,” Aiden teased, but his smile wasn’t convincing.
Brady took three measured steps toward the approaching dog and stopped. Sat. Watched. Kade’s former K9 had picked up on everything Colleen and Aiden had. She wished that she could put the dog on a horse and heal all his wounds, but the ones you can’t see are the hardest to deal with.
Her gaze shot to Aiden. Did he have wounds she couldn’t see?