Page 3 of Sweet Devotion

“Still planning to hang your own shingle?”

She nodded. “That’s the plan.”

“Horses?”

With a shrug, she tipped her head momentarily to one side. “Definitely my own therapy practice, but the equine part, that may have to wait.” There were certainly plenty of ranches with horses in her neck of Texas, but nothing like the set up Connor Farraday had. Of course, that didn’t mean that maybe some day…

“Have you talked to Alice Sweet? They’ve been doing a lot of improvements over there. If all goes as well as I expect with her special patient, maybe their ranch could work out permanently.”

“Maybe.” She had thought the same thing. After all, it was upon the recommendation of Alice Sweet, and in reverence of the Farraday patriarch Sean’s friendship with her late husband Charlie Sweet that she’d gotten this chance to train with the best.

At the front of the main house where Colleen had been staying, Hannah eyed the bed of her truck. “You’re all packed?”

“Yeah. I figure it’s like changing Band-Aids, easier in the end to just rip off the old one.”

“Ouch.” Hannah cringed but still managed to smile. “So we’re an old Band-Aid, huh?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant, as excited as I am to go home, leaving here isn’t going to be easy.”

“Just so you know, you’re welcome any time. As a friend or a therapist. Whatever you want.”

“Thanks.” Colleen leaned forward and gave her new friend a tight hug. “I’ll remember that.”

“You’d better keep in touch!”

“You bet.” She stepped back, climbed into the truck, blew out a big sigh, and started the engine.

Hannah took a step back. Connor came out the front door and stood beside his niece.

She’d already said her goodbyes to Connor and his family after lunch, no point in starting that all over. She lifted her hand, waved at the two smiling Farradays, and pulled away. The windows went down. The radio went up. The gravel of Farraday’s long drive crunched under her tires, then gave way to the standard West Texas blacktop.

The truck climbed a low rise and the land opened up the way it did out here—wide and unhurried, the sky taking up more room than anything else, the late sun burning everything copper and amber all the way to the horizon. Now her thoughts turned to her mom and dad, her sister in Millers Creek, the Saturday afternoon corn hole games in the park, the delicious scents from the candle shop owned by her friend Jillian Sweet, Iris the gossip queen, and everything about Honeysuckle that made her smile.

Resisting the urge to grab her phone and spend a good chunk of the drive chatting away with her sister, she rolled down the window a little further, let the warm air come in, and with a smile as wide as the Rio Grande, drove toward home.

Chapter Two

The Sweet family home was impressive. Aiden especially liked the kitchen. Spacious, clean, sunny, and the best coffee north of Colombia.

Alice stood at the sink, scrubbing at a pan that looked awfully clean to him already. “Did you sleep all right?”

“More than all right.” He meant it. The bed alone had been an event after weeks of institutional mattresses. He was about to say something else when he heard it. A low, distant sound. Hollow. Like water moving somewhere it shouldn’t be. He set the mug down and listened. Finished with the dishes, Alice turned to refill his cup, and like sitting in the doctor’s office and suddenly all your symptoms disappear, for now, the sound was gone again.

This morning he’d said goodbye to Kade and Josh. The two men’s leave was only long enough to deposit Aiden at the ranch, catch a few Zs, then head back to the base. Standing on the porch, waving goodbye had seemed utterly surreal. The expansive yard, the gravel drive that seemed to go on forever, the blue skies without a single dab of white clouds. The entire scene was strangely odd for a guy from the Bronx who grew up cooling off from the summer heat with friends under the waterfall of an open fire hydrant.

For the next short while, conversation lingered. Talk of pastures, cows, horses, a big fundraiser Mrs. Sweet was all excited about, and God’s design when the family matriarch turned on the tap to rinse her hands.

There it was again. He turned his head toward the wall beside the sink. Aiden set his cup down slowly. Listening intently. It wasn’t a toilet at all. “Mrs. Sweet.”

“I’ve told you, call me Alice.” She spun around to face him, a dish towel in hand and paused. “You’re frowning. Are you in pain? Should I call Kade back?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, but do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Turn on the faucet.”

One brow lifted, but she humored him. Setting down the towel, she did as requested.