But as a silence stretched between them, Walker could almost see the kid’s defenses rebuilding, brick by careful brick.
“I’m looking for a box of Christmas decorations,” he said finally. “Jo’s missing some garland, glass icicles, and a star. Thought it might’ve ended up in the storage room.”
“Haven’t seen anything like that.” Jonah gave Sunny a final pat and stepped back. “But I could help you look, if you want.”
“Appreciate it.”
Walker considered for a moment, then nodded. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
They walked together to the storage room at the far end of the barn, Walker leading the way. The small space was packed with supplies, tools, and boxes of donations—clothes, books, household items that local charities had sent over for the residents.
“Should be a Christmas box,” Walker said, scanning the shelves. “Red and green, probably has ‘Xmas’ written on it in Jo’s handwriting. Neat as a pin.”
Jonah moved deeper into the room, methodically checking stacks of containers. “She seems very... organized.”
“That’s one word for it. Woman color-codes her sock drawer.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across Jonah’s face before disappearing. “My mom was like that. Had a system for everything.”
Was. Past tense. Walker filed that away, another small piece of the puzzle that was Jonah Reed.
“Here,” Jonah said, pointing to a box wedged behind some spare lumber. “This it?”
Walker reached past him and pulled out the container, recognizing Johanna’s handwriting immediately. “That’s the one. Wonder how it ended up back here?” He tucked the box under his arm. “Thanks for the help.”
He nodded, already retreating toward the door. “No problem, sir.”
Shit. He was slipping away again, and Walker scrambled to come up with something more to say.
“We’re decorating the tree. Ugly as sin, but it’s tradition. You’re welcome to join us.”
The invitation seemed to catch the young man off guard. He hesitated, one hand on the doorframe. “I... have a few more things to check with the horses.”
“After, then. We’ll save you some of Jo’s hot chocolate.” Walker kept his tone casual, careful not to push too hard. “Best stuff you’ll ever taste. Secret recipe or something.”
Uncertainty flickered in Jonah’s eyes. “Maybe. If I finish up in time.”
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t an outright no either. Progress.
“Offer stands,” Walker said. “No pressure.”
Jonah nodded again, that perfect military acknowledgment, and slipped out the door. Walker watched him go, wondering what it would take to get the kid to drop his guard.
Johanna would know. She always did.
twelve
Walker was right. Maybe she should be more concerned about Jonah.
Despite the invitation to come inside and have cocoa, he’d stayed in the barn all night.
And she planned to ask him why during their session this morning.
She’d been too gentle with him, but she saw now he needed a push.
Johanna turned the key in the lock of her office door, already rehearsing the conversation she would have with Jonah. She needed to be firm but compassionate. After all, this wasn’t his first therapy session, but it was the first time she planned to really push past his polite deflections.
As she stepped over the threshold, her boots crunched on something. She looked down. Glass. Tiny shards caught the weak morning light streaming through the window. Her gaze followed the light to the window itself—cracked open three inches, the wood splintered around the latch.
