by Janet Dailey
Kira had reviewed her file before the session. According to her divorced mother, the girl had become withdrawn after some inappropriate texting with her married drama teacher had gotten the man fired. Faith had done well with the horses; but so far, she’d had little interaction with the other students.
“Hello, Faith,” Kira said. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks.” Faith perched on the edge of the chair. “I know I have to be here. But there’s no rule that says I have to talk to you. So don’t ask me anything—especially not about my personal life. That’s none of your business.”
“Fine, if that’s your choice.” What Kira could see was enough. The girl was making an effort to sound worldly and detached, but her lower lip was quivering. Her fingers twisted the birthstone ring on her middle finger.
“I didn’t want to come here,” she said. “My mother made me. She thinks I’m depressed. Do I look depressed to you?”
“What does depressed look like?”
“Oh, you know . . . like, you can’t get out of bed in the morning, or fix yourself up. I can do all that stuff.”
“Well, you seem to be a natural with the horses.” That much was true.
“I love the horses. They’re a lot nicer than people. They don’t lie to you or rip you to pieces behind your back. And they don’t turn on you and blame you for stuff that wasn’t your fault. I mean—like Mr. Halvorson, he was the one who came on to me. I thought it was cool at first, having an older man pay attention to me. But then it got ugly, and people started talking. When the principal called him in, the jerk claimed it was all my fault. He said I’d been stalking him.”
She pulled a tissue from the box on Kira’s desk and wadded it in her fist. “The kids liked him. A lot of them believed his story. They blamed me for getting him fired.” A tear trickled down her cheek, leaving a trail of mascara. “I’m never going back to that school—not ever.”
“Where was your father during all this, Faith?” Kira asked.
The girl shrugged. “Somewhere back East, I guess. He left my mom and me when I was six. Since then, he hasn’t even sent me a birthday card. Mom sells real estate, but she barely makes ends meet. The money to send me here came from my grandpa. Too bad he didn’t just give us tickets to Hawaii. It would’ve been more fun.”
It was time to change the subject. “How are you getting along with your roommates?” Kira asked.
Faith smoothed back a lock of hair. “How do you think? Heather’s an obnoxious, lying bully, and Lanie follows her around like a little pup. I can’t stand them. Isn’t there some way I can have a room to myself?”
“Sorry, there’s no space,” Kira said. “And even if there were, it’s against policy for students to room alone. You might try getting to know those girls better.”
“Sure.” Faith rose with a sigh. “Well, at least my horse understands me.”
* * *
After Faith had left, Kira sat and gazed out the window, lost in thought. The girl had some serious trust issues, starting with an absent, uncaring father. It might well have been the hunger for a man’s attention that had left her vulnerable to the lure of an older male predator. If the relationship hadn’t been discovered, an incident might have become a tragedy.
What if something like that happened to Paige?
When her father had left, Faith hadn’t been much older than Paige was now. So far, Paige seemed satisfied that her father was in the army and couldn’t come home. But that illusion wouldn’t last much longer. Either way, whether she learned Jake’s true identity or not, she would grow up believing her father hadn’t cared enough to be around for her. She could become as needy and vulnerable as poor Faith.
Unless Jake manned up and stayed.
Agitated, Kira rose and began a nervous tidying of her office, straightening the items on her desk, dusting her computer, tossing a bouquet of wilted wildflowers into the wastebasket. She’d disagreed with Dusty’s decision to bring Jake here. But what if her grandfather had been the wise one? What if he’d been right?
She’d seen how Paige had taken to Jake, even without knowing who he was; and she’d seen how unhappy the little girl was now that her new friend was off-limits. She’d also seen the contentment that had settled over Jake when he’d allowed himself to be with her. Paige needed her father. Jake needed his child.
In her training as an equine therapist, Kira had worked with a number of traumatized combat vets, some of them far worse off than Jake. If PTSD wasn’t entirely curable, the symptoms could at least be managed. Kira felt confident that she could help Jake, making it easier for him to stay. But he had to be willing. So far she’d seen no sign of that. For him, the only solution to his pain was to move on, leaving Paige to grow up without him.
If nothing changed, once Jake worked off what he owed Dusty and got the bike licensed and running, he’d be loading his pack and heading for the horizon.
What would it take to keep him here, where he was needed?
* * *
Jake forced himself to work on the shed contents for the rest of the afternoon. But he did allow himself a few minutes to dust off the Indian and wheel it out front where he could admire it. It was a beautiful machine, long and powerful like a big cat, with a solid body and curving red fenders. The fact that it had belonged to a legendary Hollywood star only added to its glamour.
As a mechanical engineer, he knew his way around an engine. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure what wasn’t working. With luck it would be something simple, like the fuel pump or the starter. The next step would be to go online and look for vintage parts.
Once he’d located what he needed, he’d have to find a way to pay for it. But his veterans’ benefit payment should be in his bank account before long, and he had a check for a week’s wages, minus the first repayment to Dusty. Maybe Consuelo could deposit it on her next trip to town. Then he could use his debit card to order online. If the money wasn’t enough, he could always wait another week or two. Once he had the critical part in hand, the repair shouldn’t be too hard—unless there was some unforeseen problem. With any luck, his only remaining worry would be testing the engine without scaring Dusty’s horses.
“So this is what you were so excited about.” Kira had come outside. She stood a few feet away, her cool gray eyes appraising the bike. “It’s really something. I can picture Steve McQueen roaring down the roads on it, breaking all the speed limits.”
“I still can’t believe Dusty let me have it,” Jake said. “Did you know it was here?”
“I had no idea. It must’ve been left here before I was even born.” She brushed back a lock of her hair, a graceful gesture. “Consuelo wanted me to tell you that dinner’s almost ready.”
“Thanks. Tell her I’ll grab a sandwich later.” Jake lugged a heavy carton of old vinyl record albums to the “ask Dusty” pile. “I’m on a roll here. I’d like to get to a good stopping place before dark.”
“I’ll let her know.” Kira lingered, hesitating. “I have a request of my own. By the end of next week, the students should be riding their horses. After that, we’ll be taking some trail rides. I’ll need you along to help out.”
“Me? On a horse?”
“Yes.” She looked vaguely annoyed. “Unless you’d rather bring up the rear on foot, with a shovel.”
“I don’t know about that.” He was needling her, enjoying it. “Leading the critters around is one thing, but I didn’t sign up for getting on one.”
She made a little huffing sound. “You told me what happened to your father, Jake. But these horses are sweet old darlings. You know that. You’ve been working with them.”
“Sweet old darlings or not, they’re still horses. But you’re the boss. So tell me what you’ve got in mind.”
“You’ll need a head start on learning to ride so you can help the students. It’s a nice evening, plenty of moonlight. I was thinking, after dinner, while the group is watching Seabiscuit with D
usty, you and I could saddle up for an easy ride down the canyon.”
Jake took a moment. He wasn’t crazy about climbing onto a contrary half-ton animal, capable of breaking every bone in his body; but a moonlight ride with Kira sounded like the perfect ending to the day. Besides, he reminded himself, he needed a favor in return.
“How about a deal?” he said. “I’ll agree to cowboy up and ride, if you’ll let me borrow your computer to find parts for the bike.”
“Sure. Anytime I’m not using the office. Just let me know ahead.” She gave him a roguish look. “And I’ll see you after dinner, cowboy.”
He watched her walk back to the house, admiring her lithe, confident stride. In the years since she’d been Wendy’s maid of honor, he’d never considered Kira his type. She still wasn’t a good bet for anything serious. He liked his women soft and yielding, focused on him and on their relationship—women like the one he’d married.
Kira was too driven, too independent. But, damn it, she was growing on him. She challenged him in intriguing ways, and there was something downright sensual in the lean strength of her body and the flickers of emotion that softened her face.
Kira.
Jake was looking forward to the ride.
CHAPTER TEN
Jake had been working steadily for the past hour. Now he paused to stretch, raked back his hair and massaged a twinging muscle in his shoulder. In the sky above Tucson, the sunset had deepened to violet and indigo.
Kira had come outside and was crossing the yard toward him. As she walked closer, Jake saw that she was holding a sandwich on a paper plate and a can of juice.
“Consuelo mentioned you hadn’t been inside,” she said. “A man’s got to eat.”
“Thanks.” He stripped off his leather gloves, took the plate and sat down on a handy wooden crate. He was hungry, and the sandwich—sliced prosciutto, with carefully layered tomato, romaine, pickles and Swiss cheese on rye—was delicious. “This is decadent,” he muttered between bites. “My compliments to Consuelo.”
“Consuelo was busy. I’m no domestic goddess, but now and then, I make an effort.” She gave him a smile. “Anyway, thanks for the backhanded compliment. Ready to mount up and ride?”
Jake stifled a groan. He was tired, sweaty and sore. The last thing he felt like was getting up on a horse for the first time. But he’d given his word. And he liked the way Kira looked with her shirt collar falling open and the twilight reflecting in her silvery eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said.
He finished the sandwich, emptied the can and crossed the yard with her to the stable. After switching on the overhead light, Kira led Sadie, her blue roan mare, out of her stall. For Jake, she chose one of the extra horses, a drowsy-looking chestnut gelding.
“What’s his name?” Jake asked, eyeing the unimpressive animal.
“It’s Dynamite. But don’t let the name worry you. He was a great cow pony in his day. Now he’s the oldest trail horse on the ranch. He’s every inch a gentleman.”
“You wouldn’t be pranking me, would you?”
“Believe me, I need your help too much for that. Let’s get started.”
They collected their gear from the tack room and she showed him how to place the pad and the saddle on the horse’s back, buckle the straps, tighten the cinch and adjust the stirrups to his height. There was a lot to learn and remember. Getting the bridle on, with the bit in place, wasn’t easy; but, as Kira had said, the old chestnut gelding was a gentleman, accustomed to fumbling students. He endured Jake’s awkward efforts with barely a twitch of his gray-flecked ears.
“Mounting is easy if you do it right,” Kira said, demonstrating on her mare. “Left foot in the stirrup, push up and swing your right leg over, just like in the movies. Try it.”
Jake battled nerves as he put a boot in the stirrup. The boyhood memory of seeing his father thrown and trampled in the rodeo arena came back to him as if it had happened yesterday. As he swung his weight into the saddle, he half-expected Dynamite to live up to his name and explode into bucking fury. But the placid old gelding merely shifted, exhaled and waited for the command to move.
“Give him a little nudge with your heels, like this.” Kira demonstrated. “We’ll take it easy, once around the yard, before we head down the trail. That’s it . . . soft and light, just so he knows it’s time to go. Don’t worry about the reins at first. Just hold on. If Sadie and I go ahead, he’ll follow us.”
Swaying with each step, Dynamite ambled through the barn door and into the yard. By now, it was dark. The rising moon spilled light across the landscape. Kira rode a few yards ahead of him. Jake kept his eyes on her slim, erect back. She sat her horse like a queen, her pale shirt a beacon ahead of him in the darkness.
Jake envied her self-confidence. He hadn’t been keen on riding, but he took pride in doing things well. Now that he’d been forced into the challenge, he wasn’t about to settle for clinging to a geriatric horse that probably felt sorry for him. Whatever it took, he vowed, by the time he left this place, he would be a competent horseman.
“How are you doing?” Kira called over her shoulder.
“I think I’m getting the hang of it. But how do you steer this old boy?”
“Easy. You just move the reins in the direction you want him to go. That puts pressure on the bit, and he’ll turn to get more comfortable. Just a touch is enough. You don’t want to hurt his mouth.”
“And if I want him to stop?”
“You pull on the reins and say ‘whoa!’ Just a gentle tug—there’s no need to pull hard. Dynamite knows what to do.”
Jake tried a couple of moves. The old horse responded to his touch. “Hey, it’s kind of like driving a stick shift,” he said, making a lame joke.
Kira’s laugh was musical. “It’s even easier than that,” she said. “Come on, let’s try the trail now. Just give him his head. He knows the way.”
They passed under the ranch’s high gate and headed down the trail, riding single file. The path wound among jutting clumps of rock, lacy mesquite and paloverde trees, and stands of blooming cactus, all silvered by the moonlight. The old horse’s gait was sure and steady, the slight rocking motion strangely soothing. Jake found himself shifting his balance in time, matching the horse’s rhythm.
They reached the flat rock where he and Kira had sat and talked on his first day here. The lights of Tucson glowed in the distance. He was expecting Kira to stop and turn back. Instead she swung her mare to the right and vanished downhill, into the shadows of the canyon.
The new trail was steep. Jake had to lean back to keep from sagging forward over the saddle horn, but he soon adjusted to the slanting posture. Sure-footed as ever, Dynamite plodded along the switchbacks. The air felt cooler here. Leaves fluttered in the canyon breeze. From somewhere below came the splash of water and the trill of frog calls.
Farther down, where the trail leveled out, Kira signaled a halt. “We’ll tie the horses and walk from here,” she said. “It isn’t very far.”
Following her example, Jake swung out of the saddle, dropped to the ground and looped the reins around a sapling. His legs felt rubbery from straddling the horse. He was going to be sore in the morning.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“It’s a surprise. One of my favorite places. Come on.”
He followed her along a path that was too rocky and narrow for the horses. The moonlight, shining through the trees, made lacy patterns on the ground. The splash and gurgle of water was close now, but still out of sight.
“We aren’t going skinny-dipping, are we?” he teased, thinking to lighten the moment.
“You could try it,” she said. “But the water’s cold. You’d freeze.”
“So what’s so special about the place?”
“Nothing. It’s just beautiful—and peaceful. So please don’t spoil it by asking questions.”
Jake followed her in silence. They emerged moments later through a thicket of willows into a cleari
ng, where a trickling waterfall cascaded over the rocks into a shallow pool. The golden disk of the moon cast a shimmering reflection in the dark mirror of the water.
“See? Didn’t I tell you?” Kira whispered.
“You were right,” he said. “No more questions.”
A cool night breeze blew down the canyon. Kira shivered in her light cotton shirt. Acting on impulse, Jake stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “You’re cold,” he said.
“I’m fine,” she responded, but she didn’t pull away, even when his arms tightened around her.
“Thank you for sharing this place with me.” Jake could feel her heart pounding against him. She smelled of the lavender soap stocked in the guest cabins. But on her skin, the aroma became sensual, even arousing.
“I like to come here when I’m feeling stressed,” she said. “It reminds me that the world isn’t such a fearful place after all. Sometimes I bring Paige along. She loves it, too.”
He resisted the impulse to turn her in his arms and kiss her right then. Instead he asked, “What do you find so fearful about the world, Kira? What are you afraid of?”
She was silent, thinking. After a moment, she spoke. “Losing the people I love, or hurting them. Not being there to keep bad things from happening.”
“You can’t keep bad things from happening. Maybe some, but not all of them.”
“I know. That’s what scares me. It scares me all the time.”
He did kiss her then, lifting her chin with his thumb and pulling her gently around so he could find her lips. A brush, a nibble, he took his time, tasting her, slowly deepening the contact. A quiver passed through her body as he flicked the tip of his tongue into her mouth—pausing just there, knowing that to push too far, in this isolated place, could give her the wrong idea. Better to leave her curious, maybe even wanting more.
For the space of a breath, he held her, then freed her to back away. The kiss had been gentle, almost chaste, but they were both breathing hard.
“Don’t say that didn’t happen,” he said. “Believe me, it did.”