That seemed to reach them a little deeper, but still they said nothing. They didn’t exchange glances or look at her—they all had a certain military blankness about their expressions. Becca wondered if it was a choice to respond that way or simply habit.
“Maybe you guys are perfectly healed emotionally.” She didn’t believe that, because if they were healed, they wouldn’t be concerned about having a therapist on the grounds, but she’d give them their space on that right now. “But there will be men and women who come here who will need someone to talk to. Someone who can help them work through their conflicting feelings. You should all know that. Even if you don’t need it, you should know some people will.”
Alex glanced at the two stoic men he’d brought to their ranch. Becca still couldn’t tell what those looks meant, but clearly they were communicating.
“All right. I think if we all agree, it’s fair that Becca handles the therapeutic horsemanship without our interference. We’ll set it up as she had planned, allowing her to hire who she wants. If you do hire a woman, you’ll also be in charge of securing housing for her.”
Becca softened a little. She’d voiced her opinion, and Alex and the men had listened. Maybe she didn’t need to be so sensitive, so knee-jerk in asserting her independence. They weren’t her mother. “Of course.”
“I’ll look at the schedule and determine a good point to reconvene after we’ve got some guys here and see if it’s working.”
The warm glow of compromise faded. “What do you mean ‘if it’s working’?”
“If we’re carrying a therapist on staff and paying her, but she’s not doing anything because no one wants to talk to her, then we’ll have to dissolve that part.”
Becca bit back a nasty retort. She breathed. She counted to ten. She focused on the fact that she knew the soldiers would need this. They still had a lot of work to go before they got there, so she needed to hold her tongue and her ideas would prove themselves.
If they didn’t, she’d fight all three men. Nerves and timidity be damned.