Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NOAH
Noah’s mind was swimming as he slipped out the back door of his parents’ house, rage a slow, simmering burn in his gut. The images he’d seen would haunt him for a long time. Christ, she’d been so young.
Where were the people who should have been looking out for her? Neighbors. Teachers. Someone must have suspected what was going on.
He pushed back the anger and helpless frustration as he neared the stables. He couldn’t let Teagan know they discovered her secrets. Thankfully, he’d had years of practice burying things like outrage, guilt, and grief.
“Son,” his father called. “Hold up a minute.”
Noah’s steps slowed. Thus far, he’d avoided direct one-on-one contact with his parents, but it was bound to happen.
“Dad.”
His father approached until they stood a few feet apart. Noah braced himself for the lecture he was sure was coming. About how he’d stayed away too long. About the perils of not dealing with his problems.
“I’m glad you’re here,” was what his father said. “Means a lot.”
Noah blinked and cleared his throat. Martin Ziegler was a man of few words, but he meant the ones he said.
“Thanks, Dad.”
His father inclined his head toward the stables. “That girl’s got a gift.”
“The horses love her,” Noah said, feeling an odd rush of pride in Teagan.
“They’re not the only ones, from where I’m standing.”
Then his father turned away and walked back to the house.
Noah shook his head and resumed his trek toward the stables. Surely, the old man wasn’t talking about him.
He paused as he neared the opening and heard a melodic hum coming from within. Teagan was singing to the horses, a low, sweet piece, meant to calm and soothe.
Apparently, it worked. A peek around the open doors showed the animals were as enchanted by the sound as he was.
Noah watched as she brushed and stroked, patted and nuzzled. Her expression was as close to happy as he’d seen her. Her features were relaxed, her body free of the tension and wariness it usually held.
She was working on Minx. Noah swore the grumpy beast was smitten with her, the way he edged closer, subtly nudging for more of her attention.
Noah refused to acknowledge any parallels between the horse’s behavior around Teagan and his own, even if he was reluctantly willing to admit that something about Teagan soothed him too.
When she was around, he didn’t think about his own problems as much.
His focus, blatantly or otherwise, was on her.
Like this powerful urge to protect her and provide a safe space to recover and heal.
To give her a memorable Christmas experience.
To discover ways to put that relaxed, content expression on her face himself.
Maybe that was the gift his father was talking about. Her ability to draw people—and animals—out of their own hells, if only for a little while.
The truth was, he liked having her around. The thought of taking her into Saughannock tomorrow and letting her walk away made his chest ache.
Noah quietly backed away from the door, then set forward again. This time, he didn’t attempt to quiet his footsteps. He even whistled, broadcasting his approach.
As expected, the low hum of Teagan’s voice went silent by the time he reached the opening.
“He likes you,” Noah said.
Teagan’s smile was small but genuine. “I like him too.”
Noah did not feel a pang of jealousy at the obvious affection in her voice.
“How’s your shoulder holding up? Your ankle? Your back?”
She turned her attention back to the horse. “I’m fine.”
He snorted at that and moved forward, taking the brush out of her hand. “Enough. You’re going to exacerbate your injuries.”
“Is that your professional opinion?”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
It was her turn to scoff. “I’m not one to sit around and do nothing.”
“Who said anything about doing nothing?”
She waved a hand in the general direction of the house. “I’m not one for socializing either.”
That made two of them. He loved his family, but he wasn’t up for spending the day with sugared-up kids and well-intentioned but meddling siblings either. Besides, his mission was to keep Teagan occupied and away from Kinsey and anyone else who might drop in for the holidays and recognize her.
“What about snowmobiling?” he asked. “Think you could handle that?”
Her eyes lit up, then dimmed almost immediately. “What about exacerbating my injuries?”
He shrugged. “You’ll just have to ride with me.”
He turned and walked away, smiling to himself when she grabbed her coat and followed a moment later.
“How many are going?”
“Just us,” he replied, and he tried not to think about how good that sounded.
She followed him to the old barn that had been converted into a garage. Instead of livestock, it now held tractors, trailers, dirt bikes, and several sleek, high-performance snowmobiles.
Teagan took it in, her eyes roaming over the equipment. “What’s all this for?”
“Taking care of the property mostly.”
“How much land does your family own?”
“A fair amount,” he answered vaguely. “Zieglers have been living on this mountain for generations, buying up property as it becomes available.”
Once he maneuvered one of the two-seaters onto the fresh powder, he guided her toward the front seat, but she resisted.
“Shouldn’t I sit in the back?”
“Not with your injuries. It’s safer for you up front, where I can keep you from jostling around too much.”
She hummed softly.
“Or, if you prefer, we could go back to the house and decorate cookies with my nieces and nephews,” he said.
She let him help her into place.
He mounted the rear seat, reaching around her to grab the handles. Her posture was stiff, her hands awkwardly in her lap.
That wasn’t going to work.
“Lean back on me,” he coaxed, stretching his much longer legs along her thighs to keep her in place. “It’ll be easier on your back that way.”
After only a brief hesitation, she obeyed, and he began to question the sanity of his plan. Having her so close, feeling her weight pressing lightly against him, and scenting the fragrance of his shampoo on her hair conjured images that fractured his focus.
He called upon his inner discipline and eased away from the barn, taking it slow along trails he could navigate with his eyes closed. He and his siblings had spent so many hours on this mountain; he knew every inch like the back of his hand. Little by little, she began to relax.
“Must have been nice, growing up here.” The wistfulness in her voice was audible over the purr of the engine.
“It was,” he agreed.
Plenty of woods to hunt in. Creeks to fish in. He wanted to show Teagan all of it.
“Who knew running a farmers market was so lucrative?”
“You’d be surprised. People come from all over for the experience. Hundreds of vendors, mostly local. Farmers, of course, but also butchers, bakers—”
“Candlestick makers?” she said teasingly.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Lots of niche small businesses. Candles, soap, candy, roasted nuts, art, Army surplus. You name it, you can find it there.”
“Did you work there when you were growing up?”
“Oh, yes,” he said with a laugh. “Family tradition. In fact, some of us still do. The place is only open on the weekends though, so everyone has their regular day jobs too.”
They came to a clearing, and Noah opened the throttle, putting a temporary halt to the Q & A. Teagan’s delighted whoop filled his chest with sunshine, so he turned around and did it several more times.
It was a perfect winter day. The sun was shining brightly. The air was clean and crisp. Heavy, wet snow glistened and clung to the draping limbs on the acres of deep green pines.
He didn’t want it to end. But she had to be getting cold, and even as careful as he was, he worried about overdoing it.
“Ready to head back?” he asked reluctantly.
“Not yet,” was her immediate reply. “Can’t we stay out a little longer? Please?”
In that moment, she could have asked for anything, and he wouldn’t have been able to deny her.
So, instead, he said, “Want to see my super-secret hideout?”
Teagan twisted her head, her blue eyes bright with curiosity, her cheeks rosy from the sun and the wind and the cold. She was beautiful. “Absolutely.”
He navigated off the trail and into the woods, stopping several hundred yards in. Stately pines towered around them. When he cut the engine, the silence was absolute.
He dismounted, his legs protesting the movement after sitting for so long, then helped Teagan down as well.
“It’s like another world,” she whispered, turning in a slow circle.
“Here,” he said, disappearing into a clump of evergreens so tightly packed that their branches intertwined.
Teagan appeared a heartbeat later. Her eyes widened as she took in the small, hollowed-out hideaway he’d created years earlier.
“This is amazing!”
He grinned, pleased by her response. “I thought so.”
She reached out and touched the branches. “How many people know about this?”
“No one,” he said. “Not even Alex.”
“You mean, you’ve never brought anyone here before?”
He shook his head. “You’re the first.”
She stared at him for a moment—really stared—before blinking rapidly and glancing away. “Well, I think it’s wonderful,” she said quietly. Almost reverently. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”
“I figured if anyone could appreciate it, it would be you.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into one of his many side pockets and extracted a slim Thermos.
Twisting off the top, the scent of rich chocolate permeated the small space.
He handed the cylinder to her, then reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small bag of cookies, shaking it in her direction.
“What’s a secret hideout without snacks? ”
She laughed. Honest-to-God laughed. He’d never heard a more beautiful sound.
How was he ever going to let her walk away?