Page 18 of Cowboy SEAL Homecoming

Chapter 5

Alex was quickly learning the downfalls of working with someone you didn’t know.

She didn’t at all seem to appreciate he was letting her lead as she stormed back to the living room where Ms. Finley was waiting.

The potential therapist had settled herself into a chair and looked serene and at ease. That was the thing about psychologists and the like—they always looked so damn calm and pleased and it did nothing but make Alex edgy.

Luckily, he knew how to hide that, just like those people had to be hiding their own shit.

Alex passed around the coffees with his own serene smile in place while Becca asked the woman about her experience.

Oddly enough, Becca seemed at ease. He figured she’d be as skittish as she’d been with him and the guys yesterday. It was why he’d wanted to be a part of the interview. To help, to smooth over any issues. He was used to being in a place of authority. Becca clearly wasn’t, but she appeared to be totally in control and comfortable.

The therapist asked some questions of her own about the position. She and Becca discussed therapeutic horsemanship mentoring, developing programs, horse care, but nothing they discussed put Alex at ease.

What he didn’t know about Ms. Finley was why a young woman would want to move from Denver to the middle of nowhere Montana and try to help a handful of soldiers who meant nothing to her.

“You’ve given me a lot to consider,” Becca said with a smile. Something about that soft, easygoing smile made him think of this morning and smooth, long legs and—nope, he wasn’t going there.

“I have a question,” he blurted with no finesse whatsoever.

Becca scowled at him but he ignored her.

“Absolutely,” Monica replied with a nod. “Fire away.”

“Why is military PTSD and recovery of interest to you?”

“My father was in the army during Desert Storm. He struggled when he returned, mentally and physically, and I was inspired to look into fields that might allow me to be of some help. Aside from that, my husband was a helicopter pilot in the army, and he was killed in Afghanistan. If you’re looking for understanding, Mr. Maguire, I have it.”

Shit. “Ms. Finley—”

She lifted a hand to cut him off. “I know how men like you think, to an extent. There’s a distrust of mental health professionals and a distrust of anyone who hasn’t been through what you’ve been through. That’s understandable, but I have a unique perspective. I have observed a variety of responses to the stresses of war as a daughter, as a wife, and as a professional. I’m very, very invested in your idea and I hope you’ll seriously consider hiring me.”

“We’ll do more than consider it, Monica. I think you’d be perfect for the position,” Becca said, her tone brooking no argument.

Except Alex had some argument. They needed time to discuss this, but Becca sent him a killing glare.

“Thank you, Becca,” Ms. Finley said warmly. “I do feel like it’s pertinent to let you know I have a son. If you hire me, we would need to make the move before the school year starts. If you wouldn’t be paying me until the men are brought on, I may need to make some alternate arrangements. And it’d be incredibly important to me that Colin be allowed to spend time here and not feel unwelcome or underfoot.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t see why that’d be a problem. Do you, Alex?”

Alex tried not to think too hard on it. A kid who’d lost his dad to war. He’d known those dads, who’d left behind entire families. “No,” he said, surprised to find his voice sounding a little too scratchy. “We’d have no problems with that.”

“Good.”

“And we’ll work something out about getting you guys up here before the school year starts,” Becca added. “I think you’ll be such an asset.”

Becca and Monica stood, so Alex followed suit. While he agreed with Becca that Monica would be an excellent choice for an on-site therapist, the idea of all of it left him…itchy.

Becca and Monica shook hands, and then Monica turned to him. She offered a genial smile that put him on edge, which probably wasn’t fair. He just…

He just…

Damn if he had an ending for that thought. He shook Monica’s hand and tried to force a smile of his own.

She placed her hand over their clasped ones and looked him directly in the eye. “Thank you for your service,” she said emphatically.

It took every ounce of willpower not to jerk his hand away, and something about her expression gave him the more-than-uncomfortable feeling she knew that.

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