“Well.” Miller hesitated, as if he, too, wanted to say something but couldn’t quite commit. “I appreciate how you handled my niece.”
“Just doing my job.” No, that wasn’t right. “I care about Ava a lot. I wasn’t talking to a client, but someone I love.”
The air around us shifted at my use of theL-word. “She adores you as well.” Miller watched my horse lay down in a sunny spot nearby. “So you’re leaving the farm?”
“I am.” The decision felt rash and rushed and like another source of pain. “The Department of Veterans Affairs wants to set up equine-assisted therapy centers all over the state. They offered me the job to oversee that rollout, and I’ve decided to accept.”
“You’ll be perfect.” Miller’s voice was achingly detached. “I guess tonight’s your dinner with your dad?”
“Yes. I’m still going.” I tried to match his polite tone but failed. “I’m interested to see what he wants to talk about.”
“I hope it’s everything you need.” He stared at the spot where Ava had poured out her heart. “I guess…I guess I’m glad that’s over.” His gaze met mine again. Confident. Defiant.
“Yes.” I was pretty sure my heart was evaporating with the morning mist. “I’m glad it’s over too.”
Chapter Forty-Five
“Wait!”
Ernie called out that one single word at exactly five o’clock. The last client had driven away, the horses were tended for the night, and I had a road trip to begin.
“Are you headed to Oklahoma?” he asked.
“I am.”
“To see your dad.”
“Yes.” I hadn’t been aware Ernie had tuned into my activities so closely, and this was an interesting revelation. “You have something to say, Ernie?”
“I do.” His crinkly eyes stared right through my sunglasses, daring me to interrupt. “This morning could’ve ended badly.”
“It could have. But it didn’t. Are you fishing for more compliments?”
Ernie planted his hands on his hips, a sure indication he didn’t have time for my jokes this evening. “Sometimes when a person’s upset and overwhelmed, they run away. That’s what Ava did.”
“Agreed.”
“It’s also what you’re doing.”
“Now that’s where I disagree. I can’t stay here and work on Miller’s ranch with him popping in and out. He’s going to move on with someone else, and I don’t really want to be around to see it. The government job is a great opportunity. Think of how many people I could help.”
Ernie’s voice went uncharacteristically soft. “Maybe it’s time you help yourself.”
“By remaining here and being miserable?”
“You know we’ve still got work to do with our program.”
“I’m sorry, Ernie. I meant to tell you in a better way.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, and for the hundredth time, wished I could rewrite the last few days. “I’m not doing anything right this week.”
“You know what’s at the core of equine-assisted therapy?” It was a rhetorical question and Ernie didn’t require my participation. “It’s about connection—not control. So, Hattie Sutton, let me ask you: Which one have you been practicing?”
“You can’t blame me for trying to control the areas of my life that aren’t working.”
“And Buck—are you establishing a connection? Or controlling that relationship?”
“I’m merely trying to help him get back on his feet.”
Ernie contemplated the dirt beneath his boots for the space of five heartbeats before returning the intensity of his attention back to me. “I was a combat medic in Vietnam.”
