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Monica startled. “I… What?”

“If you don’t think we notice you popping up every time he’s with us alone, well…”

“Colin wouldn’t be anywhere near any of you if I didn’t trust you,” she said, ashamed there was a bit of defensive snap in her tone. Irritated with herself that he was right and she hadn’t quite realized it. She didn’t love Colin being alone with someone who wasn’ther.

It wasn’t Gabe or Alex or Jack she didn’t trust. It was life. It was Montana. Cows and horses and whatever lurked in the mountains. It was all thisspacethat could eat up a little boy and spit him out, and men who might not fully understand how vulnerable a little boy—herlittle boy—could be when they felt so physically invulnerable themselves.

No matter that she knew giving Colin the space to explore and grow was necessary for both his happiness and his well-being, Monica hadn’t quite gotten a handle on her own insecurities and fears. Or rote reactions.

But she was working on it. Life was a work in progress. Et cetera. Et cetera. If she said it enough, she’d believe it. The power of positive thinking.

She blew out a breath. “That being said, it isn’t easy letting my only child out of my sight in a new place. It isn’t easy trusting when…” She’d heard such terrible things in her job. The abuses and accidents and neglect that had shaped some of her patients over the years. The cruelties of war that seemed so close when she watched someone relive them. Then there was the fact she’d learned how precious life could be when she’d lost Dex.

“It’s not so new, this place,” Gabe replied, not unkindly and yet not kindly at all. He had somehow mastered a neutral way of talking that grated on her nerves because that was howshetalked.

She frowned at him in spite of her inner admonitions to remain stoic. “Is that for you to say?”

“No. Not at all,” he returned, but there was something like achallengein the way he backed down. Somehow that challenge always seemed to exist in their interactions.

There was a contentiousness with Gabe she didn’t have with the other two men, and definitely not Becca. Oh, Jack had vocally objected to her presence, and it had taken him some time to agree to therapy. Alex had been as opposed to it as anyone, but they never acted as though they existed to challengeher. It was a distrust of the process, a worry that needing help equaled weakness.

With Gabe, she couldn’t figure it out, and she was certain her body’s reaction to him was rooted somewhere in that. He didn’t feel like a patient.

She wished she could make him feel like one. After all, he was the lone holdout in the injured SEAL trio here.

So, maybe instead of focusing on the way her body sometimes reacted to Gabe Cortez or that she couldn’t figure him out or the way her heart got a little mushy whenever she saw how he and Colin interacted, she should focus on earning his trust.

He’d been through an awful incident and seemed to fall somewhere between Alex’s minor injuries and Jack’s more substantial injuries on the physical side of things. But she could not get a read on his mental state, and that was what she was here for.

Revival Ranch was supposed to help wounded veterans heal. Men like her father, who’d come home from war someone else. Someone had helped him eventually, and she wanted to have that kind of effect on people and their families. She wanted to be that agent that helped them heal. It was why she’d uprooted her son and herself and embarked on this unknown journey—to help.

“Do you find being in the presence of children more comfortable than being in the presence of adults?”

Gabe laughed, that hard edge of bitterness at odds with the cheerful, charming exterior he so often put forth. She’d sensed that bitterness in him from the beginning, and it came out more and more these days.

It was something like a sign. He needed someone to talk to. He didn’t trust her, and therapy wouldn’t work without that trust. She’d have to work harder on being his friend, instead of letting her own reactions keep him at a distance.

“Don’t shrink me, shrink,” he said, grabbing another beer out of the fridge before closing the door a little too hard.

“I think that’s my job, SEAL.”Not friendly, Monica.

“Former SEAL,” he said, holding up the beer in mock salute. “I’m a cowboy these days.”

“And I’m more than just a shrink.”

“Noted.” He took a long pull from the bottle, looking out the doorway of the kitchen. “For the record, I think you’re a damn fine mother.” He never looked at her as he spoke the words, and then he strode out of the kitchen.

Monica stood in the kitchen, alone and far too shaken. It shouldn’t matter what Gabe thought. He was a coworker at best, a rather surly person she had to put up with at worst.

It wasn’t often that she got any sort of pats on the back these days, though. Her parents were still miffed at her for moving. Dex’s family had never been particularly involved in her or Colin’s life. She’d never had a lot of friends because she’d been so dedicated to her education and then her career.

Becca was an amazing friend to have here, but Monica felt sooldsometimes in comparison. She’d been married and widowed, raised a ten-year-old almost alone, and while Becca certainly hadn’t lived an easy life, she was still youthful. Sweet and strong and driven, but youthful nonetheless.

Gabe’s opinion might not matter in the grand scheme of things, but damn if she could deny it felt good to be praised, to be called agoodmother. Even if she didn’t believe it coming from him…

Someone saw she was trying, and he’d gotten over his animosity toward her profession to verbalize it. It was hard not to be a little shaken about that.

But she never let herself be shaken for long. She’d turn it into action. Gabe Cortez needed a friend, and then he needed a therapist. She’d set out to offer him both. One first, then the other.