He stilled the way he would with a spooked horse, but every muscle in him was on alert.
He was just about to offer to walk her to the house when she started toward the door.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Willow round the corner of the barn. She seemed to read the situation in a heartbeat.
“Felicity,” she called out, her gaze darting to Gabe, and he gave her a solemn look in return.
“She’s here to see her sister,” he spoke up.
Willow closed the distance in a few long strides. She reached out to rest a hand on Felicity’s arm. The woman didn’t move. Yep, she was completely frozen.
“Hey,” Willow said softly. “Come on. Honor’s inside.”
She startled slightly, then looked at Willow like she’d just been thrown a lifeline. Willow gently guided her toward the porch, sending a look back over her shoulder at Gabe.
He watched them mount the steps and enter the house, the breeze stirring Felicity’s silky pale brown hair and tugging at the loose strands of Willow’s long, dark braid. Willow opened the door and ushered Felicity inside.
Gabe didn’t move because his mind was following her and wondering if he could have done anything different to help. Maybe he could have walked her through the steps used to ground a person—five things you can see, four you can feel, three you can hear, two you can smell and one you can taste.
The crunch of boots on gravel carried to him, and he half turned to see Carson approaching. He wore a light oilskin coat over his Black Heart T-shirt, and he had a long cardboard tube tucked beneath one arm.
“Hey. You free?”
Gabe scrubbed a knuckle under his nose. “You didn’t give me any tasks other than eating breakfast.”
He huffed a laugh, then twitched his head for Gabe to follow and took off toward the side entrance that led to the security office. As soon as they entered, the sounds of the house trickled down the hall. Women talking. The clank of someone in the kitchen. A baby’s cry.
Carson turned his head, listening. The cry cut off abruptly as if someone put a bottle in the baby’s mouth.
He’d never been in Carson’s office before. The rustic wood walls smelled of pine and a long leather sofa looked like the perfect place for an afternoon nap.
Carson moved to his big desk chair like a man with six thoughts running at once, half of them logistical, half personal.
“You settling in all right?” Carson asked once he sank to the chair.
Gabe hesitated to sit. In his world, you didn’t sit in front of an officer, and Carson was the closest thing he had to that these days.
He looked to the man, and Carson gave him a slow nod of assent. He lowered himself to the seat and considered the question. “Haven’t been here more than a few hours. But I slept fine and checked on the horses. Saw that friend you mentioned.” His lips quirked at the memory of Navy running on short, stiff legs into his arms.
A smile ghosted over Carson’s face, then vanished. “How do you feel?”
“I’m steady.” His voice came out with enough confidence to back that up.
“You sure?”
Gabe gave him the rundown of his last few months since leaving the Black Heart, how he worked at the garage, how he moved through the motions of living. He rubbed a fingertip along the edge of the desk. “But the only place I feel alive is here,” he concluded.
Silence pulsed between them.
“If you need to re-admit for a check, you do it. Doesn’t mean you’re backsliding. It means you’re smart enough to stay standing.”
He met Carson’s solid gaze. “I’m good. Not perfect, but functional.”
The women’s voices carried to them, and Gabe picked out Felicity’s.
He wanted to be useful around here. He wanted to prove that he was as steady as he claimed.
“I’m fine. Put me in, coach.”
