Page 22 of Billionaire Unbroken - Asher
Spending time with the horses was also a little like therapy to me.
Doing the routine things my horses needed calmed me in a way nothing else really did.
She sighed. “I’m sure they’re beautiful.”
“Do you ride?” I asked curiously.
She smiled at me. “Not well. I grew up in Texas but I never had my own horse. I had friends who did, so I learned to ride. I just didn’t do it that often. I love horses, but they’re expensive.”
“What brought you here to Montana?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about that subject in detail. How about I just say that I needed to start over in a beautiful, peaceful place. I moved here right before I took this job with you.”
I nodded. I understood, and I respected the fact that she didn’t want to talk about that subject because it obviously had to do with her own recovery from PTSD.
I instinctively knew that Sierra wasn’t going to talk about her trauma unless she completely trusted the person who was listening.
Trust was something that didn’t come easy after the kind of trauma that brought on PTSD.
She’d talk when she trusted, and damned if that didn’t make me want to gain her trust.
“Do you want to come to the barn later to see my horses?” I asked huskily, not completely sure why I was asking.
The only explanation I could think of was that Sierra probably worked too much, which couldn’t be good for her if she’d come to Montana to find peace.
She was here working five days a week. I had no idea what kind of projects she had on the weekends, but I was assuming they weren’t leisure projects if they kept her awake late at night.
Had she actually done anything enjoyable or relaxing since she’d come to Montana?
I might work a lot but I still found time to ride, which was relaxing for me.
Her face lit up. “I’d love that, if you don’t mind me goofing off for a few minutes.”
“If you want to ride, I have a pretty little paint mare that could use some exercise.”
I usually preferred to ride my own quarter horse gelding because he was bigger and I’d had him for years.
My barn manager rode the paint, but she didn’t get exercised every day like my gelding.
She shook her head. “I can’t ride when I’m supposed to be working.”
She could and she should. “Your boss won’t mind,” I said drily.
“I mind,” she said firmly.
“Then we’ll ride when you’re done with whatever you need to do,” I suggested.
I generally didn’t ride until she’d left for the day anyway.
She nibbled at her bottom lip. “I want to, but I really shouldn’t. I have another project I need to work on at home, and my cat won’t be happy if I’m not home on time to feed her.”
Just her cat?
Muscles that I didn’t know were tight suddenly relaxed.
Apparently, there was no one waiting at home for her but her feline companion.
“I didn’t know that cats could tell time,” I said, amused.
