Page 14 of Captivated (Salvation #3)

Chapter Thirteen

Nate opened his eyes. Wow. I didn’t even feel myself go.

Zeeb had dropped him off at the cabin, and Nate had mumbled something about seeing him later. He’d made himself a cup of coffee, sat on the couch, and that was the last thing he remembered. The coffee was stone cold, and more than two hours had passed.

I must’ve needed that sleep.

The memory of riding Sorrel around the paddock sent warmth rushing through him.

I did that. And now he felt more alert, he wanted to do it again.

Then he became aware his thigh muscles ached like a bastard.

How come no one told me about that part?

Nate stood and went into the kitchen to warm up his coffee. Sunlight poured through the small open window above his bed, and through it he could hear the creek babbling over rocks, birds singing in the trees that surrounded the cabin…

The sound of a horse approaching.

His cup in his hand, he went to the door, opened it, and stepped out onto the porch. Across the creek, a tall man with a bald head, a mustache, and a beard was dismounting from a chestnut horse. He wore jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, open at the collar.

Nate fought the instinct to retreat into the sanctuary of the cabin: curiosity proved greater than wariness. He watched as the man tied the horse to a hitching post, then stood facing Nate, separated from him by the tumbling waters of the creek, into which had been laid steppingstones.

The man raised his hand in greeting. “Morning.” He smiled. “Well, it’s almost afternoon, but so what?” He made no effort to come over, as though there was an invisible line he knew not to cross.

Despite his clothing, he didn’t look like a ranch hand, and Nate’s gut tensed. He said nothing but sipped his coffee.

Waiting to see if this guy would push.

“I’m Sol,” the man added after a beat. “I work with the ranch.”

Nate arched his eyebrows. “You’re too clean to be a cowboy.”

Sol chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And I did say with the ranch, not at it.”

The distinction only made Nate’s stomach clench even more.

“What do you do here?”

Sol shrugged. “I manage the ranch’s websites. I also work with the guys who come to stay at Deliverance.” He smiled. “Which is where I met your dad. Derek’s a good man.”

Nate couldn’t help returning his smile. “Oh. I can’t say I recognize your name, but that’s because Dad doesn’t talk about what he does here.”

“But you do know about Deliverance?”

He nodded, flushing. “Not the specifics. I know it’s for guys into BDSM, and that my dad loves staying here. But there’s a sort of unwritten rule at home: I don’t ask questions about it, and Dad doesn’t share.”

But he had the notion that if Dad had a problem with someone, he’d have mentioned it.

It didn’t mean he had to trust Sol more than he had to.

Curiosity got the better of him. “What brings you to the cabin?”

“I saw Paul, and he told me you’d had your first time on a horse this morning. Figured I’d come say hi, no pressure.”

Still no push. That was good. Nate set the mug down on the rail beside him, keeping his posture loose. Casual. He knew how to look calm even when his skin felt as though it didn’t fit.

“This is probably where I should add I also work here as a counselor. Strictly for those who want a little help, or just need someone to talk to.” Dark eyes locked on his. “But this isn’t a professional call, okay? I’m just breaking the ice.”

Sure you are.

Then Nate berated himself for his suspicious mind. If they’re offering equine therapy, it stands to reason there’d be a therapist somewhere around here.

Sol hadn’t moved from his spot, and silence stretched out between them, awkward and heavy.

“So do I get to come over?”

It half-crossed Nate’s mind to call Zeeb and ask him about Sol. That was when it hit him.

He valued Zeeb’s opinion. No, more than that—he trusted it.

Nate gave a single nod. “I’ve just made coffee if you want a cup.”

Sol grinned. “I never refuse an offer of coffee.” He stepped carefully onto the stones and crossed the creek in three long strides. When he reached the cabin, he stopped at the bottom step and glanced at the meadow. “Great view. I bet you get elk through here sometimes.”

Nate wasn’t fooled by the randomness of the comment. He’s giving me my space.

“I haven’t spotted any yet, but I’ve only been here a couple of nights.”

Sol chuckled. “You’d know it if they had. They’re huge and loud as hell. And they couldn’t sneak past to save their lives. They’d make lousy ninjas.”

Nate gave a faint huff through his nose. Not a laugh, but close. The quiet stretched between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy.

He went into the cabin and returned with another cup. Sol took it, and when he didn’t make a move, Nate gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat.”

Sol smiled. “Thank you. I had a feeling if I sat on the step I’d end up with splinters where I definitely don’t want them.”

Nate joined him, proud of himself for remaining calm, for not running a mile.

Experience had taught him to be wary of therapists and counselors.

“How long have you been at Salvation?” Small talk was better than steering onto more dangerous topics.

Such as Nate, and what he was doing at the ranch.

“Two years.” Sol smiled. “I came here to build a couple of websites for a friend. But when I arrived, I found someone I didn’t expect, from my high school days. We hadn’t seen each other since then, and yeah, we had history.”

“What happened?”

Sol’s eyes sparkled. “We fell in love.”

The light in Sol’s face was wonderful to see. “Was he a guest?”

“No, he’s one of the ranch hands, in charge of the bunkhouse. His name’s Butch, and I’ll introduce you when you meet the other hands.”

Not if—when . Sol’s quiet confidence was inspiring.

His timing, however, was suspect.

“So this really isn’t a house call?”

Sol said nothing for a moment, studying Nate, and the familiar fear washed over him.

Then Sol smiled. “I usually check in with all the guests sometime their first week. I join the guys for breakfast. Zeeb thought you might prefer me dropping by here, instead of making it official.”

Then Zeeb knows Sol is here. Nate relaxed a little.

He shifted slightly in his chair. “That’s… yeah. Better. Thank you.”

“No problem. Like I said, this isn’t a session or anything. Just saying hi.” Sol sipped his coffee and smiled. “Hey, this stuff isn’t bad. You should taste the coffee Paul makes.” He grimaced. “On second thought, don’t.”

Another silence fell, broken only by the noise of water trickling over stones, a calming sound that had started to work its way into Nate’s bones the past few mornings.

“So how was the riding?” Sol asked, his voice easy.

“I didn’t do much,” Nate confessed. “Zeeb led me around the paddock.”

“Did you stay on the horse?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I managed that.”

“Then that sounds like a successful first ride. Which horse were you riding?”

“Sorrel.”

Sol beamed. “I remember driving across state to pick him up. Beautiful horse. It was a memorable trip too.” His eyes gleamed. “Like something out of a romance novel. ‘There was only one bed.’ That kinda thing.” Another sip of coffee. “He’s a good one to start with. Doesn’t spook easy.”

“Neither do I.” The words came out sharper than Nate meant, a reflex. He hated that. His fingers tightened on the mug before he caught himself.

Sol didn’t react except to nod. “I believe that. Doesn’t mean it’s not good to ease in.”

Nate’s shoulders sank a fraction. Maybe Sol does get it. Or was good at pretending to. Either way, he appreciated the lack of reaction.

They sat in silence, drinking coffee, the sound of the creek a welcome soundtrack. Nate liked that Sol didn’t want to fill the silence with inane chatter.

In fact, he was starting to like Sol more as the minutes ticked by.

“You’re not like the others,” Nate said finally, his eyes fixed on the creek.

“How’s that? And who are the others ?”

He stiffened. “Just people. They talk too much. Or ask stuff they don’t actually want the answers to.”

Sol’s chair creaked. Nate glanced around to find Sol studying him again. “Does that happen a lot?”

Nate didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer.

“Well,” Sol said after a moment, “I don’t plan to ask anything you don’t want to tell me. But if you do want to talk—about anything, doesn’t even have to be why you’re here—I’m around.”

“Yeah.” Nate nodded once, avoiding Sol’s gaze. “Okay.”

“I like this spot.” Sol set his cup down on the porch, stood, and brushed off his jeans. “Mind if I come by again sometime? No pressure to chat.”

“Sure. If I’m not with the horses, or out on a trail, this is where I’ll be.”

“Hell, I’d stop by just for the coffee. Paul drinks stuff that tastes like hay.”

Nate couldn’t rein in his laughter, and the quick burst shocked him.

I’ve laughed more in the last three days than…

That was it. He couldn’t remember. But he liked it.

Judging by Sol’s pleased expression, he liked Nate’s laughter too.

“All right then.” Sol regarded him with a warm glance.

“See you around, Nate.” He stepped off the porch, made his way with care across the creek, then over to the horse with the glowing chestnut coat who’d stood patiently the whole time.

Sol untied him before using the mounting block to sit astride him.

He gave Nate one final wave, then trotted out of sight.

Nate sat there long after the sound of hooves had faded, watching the creek. The mug warmed his palms.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, talking to Sol.

Eventually.

Nate envied Sol’s confidence on a horse, looking as though he’d ridden all his life.

I want to feel that way.

On impulse, he removed his phone from his pocket and typed.

Can I have another go at riding this afternoon? His thighs were already aching, a little more exercise wouldn’t hurt.

Zeeb’s reply was instantaneous, almost as if he’d been waiting for Nate’s message.

Sure. Anytime you’re ready. Maybe when you feel up to it, we’ll follow a trail.

A moment later, another message popped up.

A nice easy one. With a lake at the end of it. We can take your gear with us.

Nate had to smile. “You’re getting to know me, aren’t you?”

The realization comforted him, but then another thought struck him.

I don’t mind getting to know Zeeb.

In fact, he liked the prospect.