“Enough of the sad face today,” he said. “You’re killing the barn’s happy vibe.”
I laughed. Ernie was about as demonstrably happy as a pet rock. “Walk me to the barn and tell me more about these horses of ours.”
But, as my specialist provided new insights into each animal, my mind kept straying to my exchange with Miller. His niece Ava was a walking wound.
And I was sure I could help.
If only Miller would let me.
Chapter Nine
Ilooked in the mirror Sunday night and studied the face staring back at me. This year had been hard, and a few new faint lines proved it. Would eighteen-year-old Hattie be proud of where adult me was—or appalled? I thought I’d be married by now, with my own practice in Nashville, and maybe thoughts of a family on the horizon.
Yet, here I was, living in a run-down rent house in a tiny town in Arkansas, working for a man who wanted me gone, and holding on to a useless engagement ring whose stone had even less clarity than I did.
Tonight was Sylvie’s welcome home party in my honor, and I did not feel like celebrating. What exactly was I coming home to? Had I left the best days behind me in Tennessee? Sure, my family was here, and I adored every minute spent with them. But Sugar Creek was where Ned had not only broken my heart, but forced a complete rewrite of my life’s trajectory. It was the town where I’d hoped to start over, only to discover that the six months I’d been promised would probably end there. Miller had already stamped an end date on my job and my time on his farm. The man seemed to have no confidence in my work at all, let alone enough to encourage me to renew my government grant.
Instead of rebuilding my life, it felt like I had just swept up the remnants of the old one in Tennessee and pushed the dusty remains with me to Arkansas. Was I simply just passing through?
At least I’d been able to finally move into the cottage. Making it livable had taken all my family’s help, but last night I’d spent my first night. Wide awake. The walls were now a clean creamy white, every bit of Formica had been swapped out for butcher block, and the wood floors had been sanded and restained. The cottage still needed some TLC, but nothing that I couldn’t handle.
I startled at the knock at my front door, wondering who would be stopping by this evening. I was expected at Rosie’s bookshop in fifteen minutes for Sylvie’s party, and my grandmother did not tolerate lateness. Five minutes late, and she gave you the silent treatment. Ten minutes late, and she withheld cake. And Ineededcake.
“Coming!” I yelled as I zipped up the back of my floral sundress and grabbed my pink cardigan.
The knocking continued, growing incessantly louder.
I flung open the door, ready to lambast the rude visitor, only to find Miller on the other side.
He held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and dangled his car keys in the other. “Took you long enough.”
It was still a shock to the system to see Miller not as a teenager but as a thirty-two-year-old man. This moment was no exception. He wore a soft blue Oxford over shorts that showed off legs that hadn’t missed many sessions at the gym. He’d traded his boots for loafers, and it all added up to a devastating picture. I didn’t date overly handsome men, and I couldn’t recall the last time one had come knocking on my door. “Miller. I…” Good Lord, I could hardly think. “Can I help you with something? I’m headed to Rosie’s bookshop for a party.”
“Sylvie’s brought it to my attention that I failed to adequately welcome you back home to Sugar Creek.”
“She said that?” I had the most meddling grandmother in all of creation.
“Sometimes I get work on the brain and forget the niceties.” He passed me the flowers with very little ceremony. “You look beautiful, by the way.” But then he leaned in and drew me in for a hug. “Welcome home.”
Why did my skin turn electric and my muscles liquify at his innocent touch? My heartbeat tripped in tempo, and I found I couldn’t move. Miller’s hug should’ve felt familiar, like embracing family. Instead, dormant sensations zinged and popped, as if Miller had transferred lightning to my system.
Pulling back, my eyes met his, and we hovered there in that quiet space. This was my brother’s best friend, the guy I’d known all my life and never had one single lustful thought about. Well, okay, maybe a few. But not in years.
But now?
Surely these feelings were just a work-stress manifestation. Yep, that’s all they were.
“I haven’t seen you in a couple days,” Miller said, breaking the spell and taking another step in retreat. “I kept meaning to make it over to the barn to check on your progress.”
I spent almost every minute of my career studying the micromovements of horse and humans, yet I could not see one sign that Miller was the least bit affected by that hug.
Of course not.
Because he was simply being gentlemanly and kind.
I blamed this on Ned. He’d robbed me of all common sense and made me see romantic affection where clearly none existed.
“Er…” My face flamed with the heat of a thousand birthday candles. “It’s been a productive week. One horse isn’t going to work out, so we’re searching for the right replacement. Talked to a few veterans who expressed interest in the program, but we have a solid list of clients, so it’s fine if they join us or not. Mostly fine. I mean, I’d like to help as many people as we can, but not get it too crowded, you know? Nobody likes a crowd. Horses don’t. People don’t. Makes progress much harder.” I was officially rambling. Why was I rambling? “So…the flowers are lovely.”
