Talk about a lot of gaps, she thought, wondering how many were because Aaron really didn’t know and how many were because he didn’t want to tell her.
“Did he buy the ranch or was it in his family?” she asked.
“He bought it and fixed it up.”
“Specially for the corporate retreats?”
“Specifically for the kids. The corporate stuff happens to pay the bills.” The sofa shifted as Aaron stood. “Like I said, don’t hurt him.”
“As if I could. I’m not here to get the guy. I’m here to get better.”
Aaron said something and left, but she wasn’t paying attention. Until that second, she hadn’t been willing to admit the truth to herself. But there it was, at last. Her admission of something she’d been avoiding since she’d first found out she’d lost nearly all her sight. She wanted to get better. To heal. She didn’t know if that meant having the surgery or adjusting to what she had, but at least there was a goal.
It had been a long time since she wanted something. It felt good to have a purpose and maybe, just maybe, get it right.
“YOU’VE DONE THIS a thousand times,” Rita said calmly, as Izzy wrestled with getting the pad in the right spot.
“Jackson’s going to hate me pretty soon,” Izzy muttered, smoothing the pad in place. “Does this look right?”“Don’t ask me,” Rita told her. “You’re the one saddling the horse.”
“You can be very frustrating,” Izzy told her, as she made a couple of adjustments. “Okay—that should be good.” She bent over to grab the saddle.
“I would appreciate a little cooperation,” she told the horse. “Just don’t step on me.”
“Jackson is too much a gentleman for that,” Rita said.
“I hope you’re right.”
She raised the saddle to what she hoped was the correct height and lowered it onto his back. When it was in place, she made sure the right stirrup was still hooked out of the way, then walked around him and checked the saddle placement by touch.
“This seems good,” she said quietly, patting Jackson as she went. She secured the saddle in place, grabbed it with both hands to make sure it was tight, then fumbled for the stirrup. “Now for the real test.”
She swung herself up into place. Except for the fact that she felt too far off the ground and dangerously vulnerable in a blurry world, it was good.
“I did it,” she said, oddly proud of herself.
“Yes, you did. Next time you’ll do it faster.”
“Why do I have visions of you holding a stopwatch?”
“I have no idea. I’m not the stopwatch type.”
Izzy removed the saddle and pad, putting both away before returning to Jackson’s side and offering him a piece of apple. “You were very good for me and I appreciate that.”
“Next we’ll get you exercising the horses,” Rita told her.
Izzy wasn’t too sure about that, but she would deal with that fight when it was time. For now she was getting through each day, making progress, albeit slowly. She was learning how to function. Sometimes she was pleased with her progress, other times she still wanted to scream at the heavens, complaining this shouldn’t have happened to her.
At least the nightmares hadn’t returned. Not since that night Nick had shown up and comforted her.
“Tell me about Nick,” she said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Has he been married?”
“Not that I know of. He keeps to himself, which is a shame. Every good man needs a wife.”
Izzy grinned. “So speaks someone who has been married a long time.”
“Why should I be the only one? Besides, my husband would be happy to tell you that I’m the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“I’m sure he would.”
“Nick is…complicated. I don’t know very much about his past and I’m not sure how much he’d tell you if you asked. He has secrets. I know he spent at least a year traveling the world, learning survival training. He’s studied with monks to learn to control his body—his breathing and heart rate. He is a surprising combination of dangerous and spiritual. Why do you ask? Interested?”
“What? No.” Afraid she was blushing, something she never did, Izzy turned away. “He runs this place. I’ve never met anyone who does what he does.”
“Uh-huh. You need a better story. No one’s going to believe that one.”
“I’m not interested. Not romantically or anything.”
“Are you saying you’d tell Nick no if he crawled in your bed?”