Page 89 of The Way Back Home
“I don’t know,” Noah said honestly. “Head back to Hopewell, I guess. Try to figure things out.”
“Or … you could stick around for a while. You’ve got time before Mona reopens the ranch. And who knows? Maybe some of those answers you’re looking for are in your own backyard.”
“Sanctuary, you mean.”
Alex shrugged. “I spend a lot of time there. They’re good guys.”
“I met a few when I stopped at Happy Trails.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. I’m headed over that way tomorrow. Why don’t you come with me? No pressure. Just check the place out.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Alex stood and stretched.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I’ve got some things to do.”
“What things?”
Alex flashed a smile over his shoulder. “Stick around and maybe you’ll find out.”
The door closed behind him, leaving Noah alone with his thoughts once again. He stared into the fire until his vision blurred. He would go to Sanctuary. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after, but soon. And when he did, he’d start building something new—something worth offering.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
THREE MONTHS LATER
NOAH
Noah sat in his office at Happy Trails, finishing up case notes with a sense of satisfaction that still surprised him some days. The mountains outside his window were waking up, winter’s icy grip finally loosening under the push of spring. Buds painted the ridge in pinks and whites, the air rich with wet earth and new growth.
It had been a good day. Cora, the little girl with the brain injury, had grinned for the first time in weeks and hugged her mount. Maeve, shy and hesitant, had made progress with her balance, sitting straighter in the saddle. Dave, the fellow Army vet who’d lost a leg, was learning to ride again with a mix of grit and humor that reminded Noah why he loved this work.
Happy Trails had turned out to be exactly what he needed. Brian and his wife Tori were good people, and their son, Danny, an inspiration. Scarred but unstoppable,Danny had pushed through years of therapy to earn his adaptive riding instructor certification. Watching him teach others reminded Noah what resilience looked like.
Sanctuary was even better. Alex had been right about that, though Noah wasn’t about to tell him that. The place was cathartic. The men who ran it had a way of pulling people in without judgment. Their vast network of resources and counselors were as steady as the mountain on which they stood. Weekly sessions had helped quiet the noise in his head and find a new kind of balance. More than that, he counted them as friends now.
He was making progress. Getting stronger, mentally and physically. His nosy, loving, and supportive family had had his six all the way. His mom said his eyes looked clearer. His brothers teased him more and worried less. Life was getting back on track.
There was only one thing missing.
Teagan.
Not a day went by that he didn’t think of her.
Sometimes, it was sudden—a laugh drifting across the paddock that made him turn, expecting to see her. Sometimes, it was subtler, in the ponytail of a patient’s dark hair or in the scent of hay, mingled with a light, feminine fragrance that reminded him of her. He’d remember her voice, husky and soft, telling him once that horses only gave their trust if you earned it, and once you did, it was forever.
He hadn’t heard from her since she’d left, though he had received occasional vague updates through DannyDonovan, one of the guys at Sanctuary, who had some convoluted connection to her Irish kin. According to Danny, Teagan had been embraced by her family in Ireland and was doing well.
But what the hell did that mean? Had her ribs healed? Did she still wake from nightmares, and if so, was someone there to hold her? Did she miss him even half as much as he missed her?
Was she happy there?
He didn’t bother asking Danny. The only person who could answer those questions was three thousand miles away.
“Good work today,” Tori said from the doorway, breaking into his thoughts.
