Interesting that his first show of engagement in weeks was when she mentioned the break-in. She made a note, but wasn’t entirely sure what it meant yet. “Walker mentioned you’ve been spending a lot of time with Sunshine.”
Again, a slight crack opened in the perfectly polite facade, and she caught a glimpse of the real Jonah Reed underneath. There was a lot of heart in him, a lot of warmth in the flicker of a smile when he talked about the horse. She’d seen it during their sessions whenever Sunshine came up in conversation, and she wanted to see more of it.
“She’s coming along well,” he said with a touch of genuine emotion. “Getting more comfortable with the other horses.”
“And with you.”
A ghost of a smile appeared, then vanished. “She’s easy to be around.”
“Easier than people?”
His gaze flicked to hers, then away. “Animals are simpler.”
“In what way?”
“They don’t expect anything from you except what you show them in the moment.”
She nodded, letting silence stretch between them. The wind rattled the window, and outside, snow began to fall in lazy flakes. Jonah’s gaze drifted to the paddock where Sunshine grazed, seemingly unbothered by the cold.
She let the silence stretch, but he didn’t seem inclined to fill it.
“Walker mentioned he invited you to help decorate the tree yesterday,” she said finally.
His fingers tensed against his knees. “I had work to finish.”
“The same work that keeps you from joining us for dinner most nights?”
A small flinch. “I don’t want to impose.”
“It’s not imposing when you’re invited, Jonah.”
He didn’t answer, his gaze now fixed firmly on Sunshine outside. The mare had wandered closer to the fence, and her golden coat was a bright spot against the gray day.
“Sunny’s appropriately named, isn’t she?” Johanna remarked.
Another quick smile, but he still didn’t respond.
Okay, different tactic. Time to take the direct approach.
“Why do you spend all your time with the horses instead of with us? Do you have problems with Walker? With Boone?”
“No, ma’am. They’ve been... kind.”
“With me, then?”
Alarm flared in his eyes. “No, of course not. You’ve been great.”
“Then what is it?” She leaned forward slightly, not enough to crowd him but enough to indicate she wasn’t backing down. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re doing everything possible to avoid forming connections here.”
The silence stretched until she thought he might not answer at all. When he did, his voice was so quiet she had to lean forward to catch it.
“There’s no point getting attached to a place I won’t stay.”
There it was. The first real information he’d volunteered in eight sessions.
“You don’t think you’ll stay,” she repeated, careful to keep any judgment from her tone. “Why is that?”
“This isn’t...” He gestured vaguely at the window, at the ranch beyond. “This isn’t for me.”
