alone, having minimal contact with her fellow employees. Working her way through the archives while listening to music. Essentially hiding from the world. The job made her feel safe, but the hours did seem to drag on.
“Faith?”
Her head jerked up at the sound of her boss’s voice, and her heart did a guilty double beat—which wasn’t fair. It sucked being caught between a rock and a hard place. But if push came to shove, she owed more loyalty to Debra than to her brother...even if, hands down, she preferred the man who reminded her of her attacker. What did that say about her?
That she liked having a job in safe surroundings.
“Yes?” She forced a bright note into her voice while wondering if she was about to be taken down for hiding vital information from her superior.
Debra glanced at the clock. “Would you stop by my office before you go home?”
“Certainly. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.” Debra didn’t bother with her fake smile, which made Faith’s stomach tighten a little more. After Debra left, she closed the file. She’d worked through her break, as she often did—it wasn’t like she really needed to sit in the small staff room and socialize—so she wasn’t cheating the college by leaving early. She’d put in her hours.
What now? She let her head fall back, tried to remember a time when she hadn’t automatically expected the worst.
Actually, it was very easy to remember that time—it was her entire life up until the assault had shifted her perspective. She was getting damned tired of shifted perspective.
Faith set the closed file on top of her Done pile and pushed her chair away from her desk. Why wait to find out what Debra wanted? If it was bad news, then she might as well get it now. She grabbed her purse, locked the door to her small basement office and headed for the stairs rather than the elevator. When she reached the registrar’s office, she gave a quick rap on the open inner-office door. Debra looked up, then waved her inside.
“Please close the door.”
Faith already had it half-shut.
“My brother told me about his accident—and your part in aiding him. Thank you.”
Relief washed over her. Drew Miller had been as good as his word. “I’m glad you understand. I didn’t feel right keeping the matter quiet, but he wanted to tell you himself.”
“I do understand.” Debra gave her shoulders an odd little roll before meeting Faith’s gaze. “However...in the future...if something of a serious nature occurs, I would very much appreciate a heads-up. Just a hint that I should be aware that all is not well in my brother’s life. You don’t have to spill all the beans—just let me know I need to look into things.”
The warm feeling of relief had started evaporating at the word however, and by the time Debra was done speaking, Faith was once again in defensive mode.
“I can’t get involved in your family matters.” She should have made this position clear from the very beginning, shouldn’t have agreed to meet Debra’s brother, but she’d caved to stay on Debra’s good side—and because she believed in equine therapy. Now she regretted that decision.
“I’m not asking you as a boss. Please understand that.” Faith’s eyebrows rose. “Drew is not the man he used to be and until he is...well, it would help me to know what’s going on. So that I can help him.”
A hard knot was forming in Faith’s stomach. “I doubt I’ll see your brother again.”
“That’s very possible. But...” Debra’s expression became even more serious and there was a faint pleading note in her voice as she said, “You are his neighbor, and if you notice anything unusual, will you please tell me? I’m worried about Drew. I want him to get better.”
Faith sucked in a breath. “I don’t think I’ll see Drew,” she repeated, hoping that Debra would believe her. “However, I will tell you if I notice anything disturbing.”
As in very disturbing. Call-the-sheriff disturbing. Otherwise, she was not getting involved.
“Thank you.” Debra smiled in a grateful kind of way.
“Of course.”
Faith was almost to the door when Debra said, “Faith? Please understand how much I appreciate this. I won’t forget your help.”
Faith gave a quick nod and left the office, wondering what would happen if she did know about something and kept her mouth shut. Deb might not take overt action, but she could make Faith miserable. That said, Faith knew with a certainty she wasn’t going to spy on Drew. Her perspective of the man had shifted since the accident. Drew was nothing like her attacker. He was a guy who’d been through hell and was fighting his way back. Even though she’d automatically locked her truck door during their confrontation the night before, she’d started to feel a connection with the man. He understood. She knew that instinctively. And he was hurting, just as she was, which made her wish she hadn’t needed to lock the door to protect herself. That she could allow herself to trust him. That maybe they could share insights.
Nice fantasy, Hartman. Like she was ready to open up to a virtual stranger.
But you did. Last night.
Faith shushed her small voice, unlocked her truck and got inside, tossing her tote onto the passenger seat. She’d continue to handle things in the safest way possible—alone.
As soon as she got home, Faith set up the barrels in the arena and saddled Tommy, her black-and-white paint barrel horse. She needed to blow off some steam after the unsettling day. She had a job where she could earn a decent paycheck with no unexpected triggers, because no one except for Debra and the occasional administrative associate ever ventured into her realm. And because her job seemed so perfect, maybe she was imagining threats where there were none.
No maybe about it. She was overreacting. Manufacturing trouble. It wasn’t like Debra could fire her because she didn’t spy on her brother. That was a lawsuit waiting to happen.
If she could prove it.
Tommy was in the mood to run and Faith let him do his thing, losing herself in the moment as she tried to make every run perfect. She’d only run the barrels once or twice a week when she’d been in serious competition, spending most of her training time working on flexing, bending and speed. But she was no longer in serious competition, so she could essentially do whatever she wanted, and tonight, she wanted to run.
When she was done, both she and the gelding were sweating. Their times were improving, and as Faith dismounted, she felt a familiar stirring of resentment. She’d been on track to make the National Finals Rodeo when the attack had taken her out of competition. It was supposed to have been her year. And then her world had been turned inside out by a sicko.
Faith returned to her too-quiet house, Sully close by her side, reminded herself that she liked the quiet and then turned on some music. Maybe it was her encounter with Debra, or maybe it was simply the summer stretching ahead of her without a lot to fill it that had her feeling antsy—at loose ends.
Last summer, she’d been focused on getting her feet back under her, even though it felt like a year should have been a long enough
