Page 17 of Captivated (Salvation #3)

Chapter Sixteen

Morning light touches the world gently here.

It slid in slow across the tops of the trees, painted the meadow in vibrant colors, poured like honey over the creek, and caught the mist rising off the water in quiet, golden ribbons.

Nate stood barefoot on the porch of the cabin, his cup of coffee warming his hands, and breathed.

Not cautiously, not shallow and braced like he used to.

Just… breathed.

A week at Salvation, and already something in him had begun to uncurl.

He had to admit, the cabin had been the perfect choice, away from the ranch, nestled beneath trees, the creek humming low and constant like a lullaby.

What Nate loved most was the quiet of the place.

It wasn’t dead quiet, but a stillness that felt alive, full of chirping birds and the occasional splash of a fish or the rustle of… something in the brush.

He’d woken from another nightmare at some point during the night, the same flashes as always, his breathing erratic, his heart galloping. He’d sat up, breathed through it, and waited.

The dark didn’t swallow him. It let him pass.

Standing on the porch, witnessing the world waking up around him, Nate realized something vital.

I want more than survival.

More than managing. More than the slow, cautious life he’d carved out in his dad’s house, as safe as it was. That life had always been a perimeter, not a place.

He knew that on the ranch, Paul was probably already up, tending to the horses. Zeeb would be doing whatever it was he did first thing in the morning. Nate smiled to himself.

Zeeb is like sunlight with a crooked grin.

He was easy to be around, never asking more than Nate could give. He had freedom. He was calm. His days were settled. Zeeb had run from home when he was eighteen, but now? He walked through life, strode through it, in control of his emotions, his past behind him.

Nate wanted to stride, too.

He took another sip of coffee and let his gaze roam the landscape.

The light was fuller now, dappling the creek and making the leaves flicker in green-gold.

His sketchbook lay open on the railing beside him, yesterday’s study of Sorrel in soft charcoal.

Nate had never tackled animals before in his art, but that sweet horse needed to be captured on paper.

And as first attempts went, he was pleased with it.

He’d come here for equine therapy, sure, but it had been more than that. Being around the horses quieted him in a way that nothing else had. They didn’t demand or prod or dissect. They just were, and they let him be, too.

But this wasn’t about the horses. Not anymore.

He exhaled slowly, a sound like surrender and resolve all at once. “I’m tired,” he murmured to the trees, to the water, to himself. “Tired of hiding in my own head.”

Tired of flinching when someone laughed too loudly.

Tired of sidestepping every social moment, every invitation that might be more than small talk.

Tired of defining himself by damage.

What it all boiled down to was Nate was tired of being tired.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds around him, the warmth of the sunlight as it crept across the porch, the smell of grass and meadow flowers.

Something has to change.

And he was the only one who could effect that change.

He opened his eyes and set the coffee cup down on the railing.

“Today,” he said aloud, forcing as much strength into the word. He couldn’t change things all at once. He wasn’t that naive.

But I can make a start. I can take a step forward, even if it’s a little step.

Zeeb had mentioned the cookout the following day, for the sister of the guy who owned Salvation, and had extended Nate an invitation. He could say no. He could stay in the cabin, draw, listen to the creek, eat alone like he always did. But the thought of it felt… small. Shrinking.

He didn’t want to shrink anymore.

Nate stuck his chin out. I’m going to the cookout.

But he wasn’t going to show up then make his excuses twenty minutes later.

Nate was going to be there. To talk. Ask people’s names.

Listen to their stories. Let himself laugh, maybe.

Let himself be known, even just a little.

The thought made his chest tighten, but not in fear.

In anticipation.

I can do this.

He could shop for groceries and clothes, couldn’t he? He made regular trips to see Dr. Lacey. He went out to take photos for his paintings. He could function.

Well, now he wanted more than mere functioning.

One more week at Salvation. Seven days to stretch beyond himself. To talk to the owner of the ranch, finally. To learn the names of the other hands. To watch more than the horses, to go on a few trails.

I can do this.

Nate turned and walked inside. Zeeb would be along soon with his breakfast, maybe with ideas of how Nate could spend his day.

Nate had his own ideas. No more circling his life as if it was something too hot to touch.

Today, he would begin the work of choosing it.

Zeeb came around the corner of the cabin to find Nate waiting for him on the porch. He sat on a chair, facing the creek, his hands clasped in his lap. He turned his head in Zeeb’s direction and instead of shrinking back into himself the way he’d done so far, he offered a soft, real smile.

One that reached his eyes.

Zeeb stilled.

Something’s different about him. It took him a moment to decide what the change was, and the closest he came to it was that Nate looked like someone who had remembered how to live in his own skin.

Man, that smile. Something had shifted. Thawed, even, like the first warmth after a long frost.

Zeeb stepped onto the porch and set the bag down. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up. I’m earlier than usual.”

“I didn’t want to miss this.” Nate gestured at the creek. “It’s beautiful out here.” Then he resumed his observation, his shoulders relaxed.

Zeeb let the silence hang for a beat. There was no need to fill it when the birds were doing just fine.

Nate’s voice broke the quiet. “I’m done.”

Zeeb gazed at him, his heartbeat quickening. “Wanna explain that remark?”

He expelled a long breath. “I’m tired of surviving.”

Relief flooded Zeeb. About damn time. Something warm spread through his chest, something like pride. Not the loud kind. The kind that settled deep. The kind that didn’t need talking about because the moment said it all.

“You look different.” Zeeb kept his tone light. He took another step. “Less ghost, more human.”

Nate bit his lip. “‘Ghost’, huh?” He didn’t bristle, however.

Zeeb shrugged. “Just sayin’ what I see.”

He smiled. “You’re right, though. Today feels… different.” He glanced at the bag. “Has Matt sent the same humongous breakfast I’ve had every day this past week?”

Zeeb cackled. “You know it. No one can ever say they went hungry at Salvation.”

“Then why don’t you share it with me?”

Holy fuck.

Nate flushed. “Unless you’ve already had yours.”

“Nope, not had a bite yet.” Zeeb stared at him, noting the color in Nate’s cheeks, the shine in his eyes.

Good Lord, what happened to you?

Whatever it was, Zeeb thanked God for it.

Nate stood. “Then I’ll share it between two plates and we can eat out here.” He grabbed the bag and went indoors.

Zeeb took his hat off and scraped his fingers through his hair. Okay, Nate hadn’t done a one-eighty, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.

Now don’t fuck it up.

Nate emerged from the cabin, awkwardly carrying two plates and two forks. Zeeb took his, and they sat on the chairs. Zeeb pointed toward the creek. “I love to come riding past here first thing in the morning.”

Nate frowned. “Then why haven’t I seen you this week?”

He chuckled. “I was givin’ you some space, that’s why.”

“You don’t need to do that. Not from now on, at any rate.” Nate forked eggs into his mouth, and Zeeb’s belly grumbled at the delicious aroma of bacon and home fries. He tucked into his breakfast with zeal, and something about eating in the open air made it even better than normal.

Except he knew it had nothing to do with the air or the view.

It was pure Nate.

It didn’t take long until both of them had demolished every scrap of food, and Nate went indoors to pour two cups of coffee. When he returned, he handed Zeeb a cup, then stood by the railing, staring out.

You’re doin’ fine, Zeeb wanted to tell him, but whatever was going on in Nate’s mind was more important than Zeeb’s clumsy attempts at praise. He caught sight of Nate’s sketchbook, and he had to smile.

“That’s what you did yesterday?”

Nate turned his head. “Yeah. I’m happy with it. I don’t see myself taking up animal portraits full time, but it was good to try my hand at something different.”

And there was Zeeb’s opening.

He cleared his throat. “You know, if you’re feeling brave, there’s a trail we could check out. It’d mean taking a horse box and driving to the Spanish Creek Trailhead.”

“What’s there?”

“The start of the trail to Mirror Lake. It isn’t that long, but it climbs a lot, especially in the last few miles. And you might wanna take your artist gear with you.”

Nate stilled. “Is it as beautiful as the lake I’ve already seen?”

Zeeb grinned. “No—it’s even more awesome.” He paused, watching Nate’s expression. “Well? Wanna give it a go?”

Say yes. Go on, say yes.

Nate didn’t answer right away, his gaze focused on the view. At last he turned, and there was that goddamn beautiful smile again. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Zeeb thought his heart would burst with pride. Go Nate.

“We’ll take it easy. Pack water, lunch, maybe some apples for Sorrel. I’m assumin’ you’re gonna ride him.”

Nate nodded. “You think I can cope with the trail? I’ve only been riding for a few days.”

Zeeb chuckled. “Yeah, you’ll do just fine.” He stood. “I’d best go to the ranch and sort out the horses. You pack up your equipment, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Nate handed him the empty bag. And there it was again, the brush of fingers as Zeeb took it from him.

“Thanks, Zeeb.”

He arched his eyebrows. “For what?”

Nate bit his lip. “For not giving up on me. For knowing when to push and when to just… sit quiet.”

Zeeb smiled. “You’re the one followin’ this path, Nate. I’m just here to make sure you don’t get lost.”

Nate’s eyes shone. “Then how about we follow it together?”

Just like that, the day opened up in front of him, bright with the prospect of a new adventure.

And time spent with Nate.

Zeeb couldn’t wait to see what lay around the next bend.