Page 35 of Trusting a Cowgirl

Absolutely not. There was always a time and a place for stuff like that. And that little devil on her shoulder was still chanting that she needed to do whatever it took to maintain stability in Riley’s life.

She could continue to work with him and not develop stronger feelings for him. That would be easy, right? All she would have to do is make sure he never got close to her again. Oh, and she couldn’t let him touch her. There would be no more dancing, and every conversation had to be about progressing toward one of his goals.

Geez, none of that sounded fun at all.

13

Riley

Another week passed,and every single day he made sure to be on time. He’d lost precious time with Grace last week on Monday. He wouldn’t risk losing any more.

Riley had no intention of backing down. He’d always considered himself one who had amazing instincts. It didn’t matter if it was out in the field or if it was back on US soil; he was good with reading what certain feelings meant.

And the way he felt about Grace hadn’t left him. With each passing day, his feelings for her grew. From the way she spoke to him to the way she handled a horse. He didn’t bother going back to the country club for their dances. Grace had made it clear she wasn’t interested in that sort of stuff, and being there might only make things worse. He couldn’t afford to take another couple of drinks and end up doing something stupid again.

Instead, he continued doing everything she said—well, that he could actually accomplish.

Grace didn’t make him use any horse other than Dolly. He must have passed that part of their therapy sessions with flying colors. He’d been able to rein in his anger and irritation. He even opened up about his home life a little more.

Today they had another “fun” session. They were back in the arena, and Grace had gotten the balls for the horses to play with. They sat a few feet away from one another on the railing of the fence that separated the dirt floor from the stands.

As usual, Grace was the quiet one. He didn’t even catch her looking at him as much as she used to. There was a strong possibility that he’d lost his chance with her.

That didn’t matter. He’d come up with a plan for if she stuck to her guns and didn’t allow anything romantic to occur between them. He’d already discussed his options for housing with Shane.

The man was a saint. He had offered Riley a job if he completed his therapy sessions with flying colors.

But Grace didn’t need to know any of that.

He glanced at her, finding her focused on the horses, and he let out a sigh. “What are we going to discuss today?”

She didn’t turn toward him, nor did she smile. It was one of those mornings when he knew something bad was brewing. Perhaps that was why she’d suggested the arena. Her hands gripped the bar on either side of her legs. If it weren’t for the occasional blink and the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, he might have assumed she was a statue.

“Grace?”

She jumped and glanced in his direction. “What?”

“What are we going to discuss today?”

Her brows furrowed and she returned her attention to the horses. “How about you tell me about your most recent tour of duty.”

He scowled. “I thought I didn’t have to discuss details like that—only about the symptoms of my PTSD.”

“Fine, don’t talk about it. Apparently, you already know all of it now.”

Riley stilled. Her tone of voice wasn’t in her character. She was mad about something else. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “Who’s the therapist, Riley?”

He bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying that neither one of them were. That would go over about as well as anything he’d said last week or the weekend before. “I’m just suggesting that you’re in a pretty bad mood.”

“Yeah. I am. My truck broke down again. There’s nothing I can do about it either. I don’t have the money to get a new one, but fixing it is costing more than I can afford—” She sent an apologetic look in his direction. “I’m not supposed to be venting to you about any of this. These sessions are supposed to be about you.”

He sliced his hand through the air and forced a chuckle. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” She gave him a pointed look and he chuckled again. “You know what I mean. You can vent to me about anything.”

Once again she gave him that look. “Then why don’t you vent to me? I know there are months of issues just begging to crawl from the recesses of your mind.”

“I’ll share if you share. It’s only fair.”

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