“Wow.” I smiled. “The gifts just keep coming.”
His laugh was a small puff of air. “I’m generous like that.”
“Well, then apology accepted.”
With a sharpwhack, Miller helped a mosquito rethink its location on his arm. “Do you have anythingyouwant to say?”
I batted my lashes innocently. “Can’t think of anything.”
“I’m not apologizing for what I said, Hattie—just how I said it.”
I let this declaration circle around my brain a few times beforelanding. “I see.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t gimme that therapist talk where you try to get me to say more with those generic, leading phrases.”
“I hear what you’re saying, and what I’m hearing is…” I laughed at his appalled face. “I’m kidding.” How to broach the subject of what Ernie had shared this morning? “I know the welfare of the veterans means everything to you, and it’s personal.” I watched Miller relax again into the back of the swing. “I’d love to hear more about Garrett if you ever want to share.”
The swing creaked as it rocked back and forth, then back and forth again before Miller finally spoke. “We’ve had a few scares with him. Garrett fights so hard to have a better life, to change things in his head. But it’s a daily battle for him.”
“And you feel responsible for him.”
“He served with my brother-in-law. I helped Garrett move and resettle here.”
A familiar stab slid into my heart. It was a feeling I would never get used to—these secondary wounds from working with veterans.
“Those guys saw things that can torture a soul for life,” Miller said. “Garrett deserves the best care and the farm’s every attention.”
“And I’m sure that’s what he gets.” Though I still thought the horses might be an avenue of healing.
“I know ultimately the farm can only offer our resources, and the vets have to decide what to do with them.”
That sounded so businesslike and detached. “But…?”
“But it would kill me to lose even one of them.”
“Does it take you back to when Jonathan died?” I was fishing again and being none-too-subtle about casting the line.
The swaying came to a halt. “Lots of things got messed up there.”
“Like what?”
Miller stood, and the abrupt motion rocked the boat so much I had to grab the armrest to stay upright. “I’m glad you like the swing,” he said. “I need to get back to the war zone I left at my house.”
“Things not going well at home tonight?”
“Land mines aren’t just for battlefields apparently.”
Ouch. Sounded like the Best Uncle in the World was having trouble. “We girls are complicated.”
“Indeed you are.” Miller’s eyes went warm again, and I felt his stare energize my every nerve. “Don’t stay out here too late.”
“Miller?” I called to his retreating form.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
The breeze ruffled his chestnut hair, and he looked like a model forHot Farmers of Americamagazine. “At least we have one happy female on the farm.”
