But Nathan seemed content to stay beside his dog. Then, after a few more go-rounds, Tabitha saw Stormy slow, drop her head and start the chewing motion that signaled her willingness to now “talk” to Tabitha.
Tabitha stopped in the middle of the pen and Stormy turned to her. Perfect. Just what she wanted. Tabitha waited where she was, talking to Stormy, and then, to her surprise, the horse walked directly to her. Tabitha reached out and laid her hand on Stormy’s neck. She felt a tiny tremor, a little rejection, but Stormy stayed where she was. Clearly someone had done some work with her already.
“Good girl,” Tabitha cooed, slipping her hand over her neck, then down her back. “Good girl.”
She turned to show Nathan, and her heart jumped.
Morgan was walking down the trail toward the pen.
And he didn’t look pleased.
* * *
“Tabitha, what are you doing?” Morgan kept his voice low when he saw that Tabitha was looking at him.
“Working with Stormy.” She held her chin up, holding his gaze, but she sounded defensive.
He was about to ask her if she knew what she was doing, but with that crazy horse standing quietly beside her as Tabitha turned back to her, stroking her, the question was useless.
Clearly she did.
After Cord and Ernest had dropped Stormy off, the horse had kicked at the fence, bared her teeth at Morgan when he tried to come close and, in general, acted like a horse who was asking for a one-way ticket to the auction market.
It was because Nathan saw this horse as a tangible connection to his mother that Morgan knew he would never get rid of the animal.
“Well, I’m impressed,” he said.
His words seemed to surprise her. He suspected she assumed he would say something entirely different. And he might have but for the evidence in front of him.
“This is only a small step,” she said. “But an important one.”
“Do you think she’s trainable?” Morgan asked, glancing down at Nathan. But his son’s eyes were fixed on Tabitha and Stormy and didn’t even look at him.
His rejection, as it always did, cut him deeply.
“I believe she is,” Tabitha said. “She’s a beautiful animal with a lot of potential.”
Nathan jumped up and, to Morgan’s surprise, grabbed his hand, getting his attention. “I want Miss Tabitha to train Stormy so I can ride my mom’s horse.”
He looked down at Nathan and curled his fingers around his hand, thankful for this tiny connection. As he held Nathan’s pleading gaze, he knew he couldn’t say no. Initially he’d had his concerns about Tabitha training Stormy because it would mean her spending more time with Nathan.
Well, that was a moot point now that she was taking care of him.
“Do you think you can get her close to rideable before you leave?” he asked, flicking his gaze to her.
Tabitha looked back at Stormy, whom she was still petting, then back at him and gave him a curt nod. “I can make her rideable for an adult. But before a kid can mount her, we’re looking at time and miles by an adult.”
“I can take care of that,” he said. He’d spent enough time on the back of a horse to know what was required.
“Then I can do this.” She petted the horse, looking around at his yard. “There is one problem, though. This corral doesn’t look very strong and I’m wondering about pasture.”
He was well aware of both problems. “This was strictly temporary,” he said. “Until I could find someone to train her.”
“Well, now you have. But I was wondering if you would be willing to move her to my place. I can work with her better there in my round pen, and I have a decent fenced-in pasture.”
“But I won’t be able to see her if you take Stormy to your place,” Nathan cried out.
“I could take Nathan with me in the afternoons I’m working with him,” Tabitha suggested.
“Yay! That would be so cool,” Nathan said, still clinging to Morgan’s hand. “Can we do that? I really want to go to Miss Tabitha’s place.”
“You’ve never been there,” Morgan said with a gentle smile.
“But I think it would be cool. And Miss Tabitha is fun to be with.”
Morgan knew he didn’t have a lot of choice. Nathan’s life had already been tossed around enough and he seemed to have formed an attachment to Tabitha.
Which was exactly what he was afraid would happen.
He looked over at Tabitha, surprised to see a tender smile on her face as she looked from him to Nathan. Then Brandy jumped up, barking at who knew what as she ran toward the house, and Nathan ran to follow her.
Tabitha petted the horse one more time then walked to where Morgan stood. “I understand your concerns,” she said. “I know you’re scared he’ll connect with me and I’ll leave him in the lurch when I leave. I get that. But I promise you I’ll be careful with him. I won’t hurt him.”
Morgan held her earnest gaze, and in spite of what had happened and what she had done, he felt a softening of the barrier he had placed around his heart.
Her green eyes, the way the sun shone on her copper hair, making it glint like a precious coin, brought back memories of happier times. For a moment they were younger, breathless, blissfully happy simply being together.
“I’d like to believe you.” He meant to speak the words in anger. Push her away. But to his disappointment they came out like a request.
“You can,” she said, a shadow of pain flitting across her features. “I know you have every reason not to trust me, but on this you can believe me. I’ll be careful with your son.”
He held her gaze a split second longer than he should. Allowed himself a moment of remembrance, and then he pulled back and nodded. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Thanks.” She released a shaky breath that made him wonder if she was as unsettled around him as he was around her. “So now we need to make arrangements to move Stormy to my place,” she said.
“I’ll give Ernest a call. See if he can do it sometime this week.”
Tabitha looked back at Stormy, who still stood, watching, as if gauging what she was up against. Then Tabitha climbed over the fence. Morgan had to clench his fists to stop himself from helping her over. Given his current state of mind, he was afraid he would hold on to her too long.
But she was up and over and walking ahead of him before he could give in to the temptation. “So why aren’t you working now?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder as he easily caught up to her.
“Dr. Waters told me he would take care of the calls for the afternoon.”
She rolled her eyes in response. “He is such a fussy little man. Why would he do that? He often has to turn down calls.”
“It makes me nervous that I’m on the job barely a week and he’s already cutting back my hours.”
“I think he needs to know he can trust you with his clients,” Tabitha said. “He’s often bragged how he built up this practice one customer at a time. Often berated me and Jenny and Cass for not taking good enough care of them.”
“I suppose,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely convinced that was true.
“Or he could see you as a threat.” Tabitha smiled as she said the words, but Morgan wondered if that wasn’t closer to the truth. But he wasn’t sure what he could do about that. Some of the clients he worked with had made veiled comments about Dr. Waters and his abilities, but he had ignored it, considering it the usual gossip that happened in a community.
“Well, I’ll just have to keep plugging,” he said. “I’m sure he’ll come around. I may be a Walsh, but I still need the job.”
She shot him a quick look. “I’m guessing you overheard my comment and I’m sorry. Just feeling...bitter, I guess.”
“I understand. I know some of
the Walshes haven’t always treated you that well.”
“Given what my dad did, you can hardly blame them.”
Morgan was about to tell her that wasn’t what he was referring to but just then Nathan came running toward him, Brandy at his heels. His blue jeans were torn at the knees and the laces of one of his running shoes had come loose. But he was smiling for the first time in a while.
“Hey, son, your shoelace came undone,” Morgan said.
Nathan looked down and stopped. Morgan walked over, knelt and tied it up for him. “There. All fixed.”
Nathan frowned as he looked over at Morgan’s feet then Tabitha’s. “How come you both wear cowboy boots and I have to wear sneakers?”
“You don’t have to wear sneakers,” Morgan said, settling back on his one leg.
“But I don’t have any cowboy boots.”
“Well, we’ll have to buy you some,” Morgan said.
“Can we go now?”
“Right now?”
Nathan nodded, his eyes bright with anticipation. “I’m done with my work and you’re done with your work and Miss Tabitha is here and we can go together to town.”
“I don’t think Miss Tabitha will want to come,” Morgan protested.
“But I want her to. She can help me pick out boots.”
Tabitha lifted one shoulder in a questioning shrug. Morgan had managed to find a tiny place of peace with Nathan. A moment of happiness. It seemed like his son wanted Tabitha along.
Well, if that was what it took to keep a smile on his son’s face, so be it.
“Okay. If Miss Tabitha doesn’t mind...” He looked her way, surprised to see her nodding.
“I’ll follow you in my truck.”
“No. You ride with us,” Nathan insisted.
The uncertainty on Tabitha’s face mirrored his own. But taking two vehicles to town would be wasteful. “Just come with us,” he said. “It’ll make things easier.”
For another second she hesitated, and then, seeming to see the wisdom in that, she nodded. “I’ll just get my backpack and we can go.” She walked into the house and returned a few moments later.
“Still no purse?” he asked as she slung the knapsack over her shoulder and walked toward his truck. He was fairly sure it was the same one she used to carry to school every day in high school.
“I like the freedom of packing whatever I need for the day on my back.”
“You figuring on running away?” He hadn’t meant to tease her. He blamed it on spending so much time with Tabitha. It was as if he was slipping back into his old habits.
“No. I’ve always liked to know that whatever I need I have with me. Survival technique from my days with my dad, I guess.” She tossed the words out so casually but it reminded him of snippets of things she had told him about growing up. How often they moved. How quickly she had to be ready to leave.
She looked away and quickly got into the truck before he asked more questions or opened the door for her. Like he used to do.
Instead he opened the back door of the truck cab for his son and he clambered into his booster seat.
“I’m so excited to get some boots,” he said as he tugged on the strap and buckled himself in. “I want ones like Miss Tabitha. Or maybe some red ones.” He grinned, and Morgan felt a delightful warmth sift through him. Nathan seemed a lot more relaxed than he had yesterday.
Then Nathan looked at him, his smile still in place. “I’m happy Miss Tabitha is coming with us.”
Morgan nodded, his good mood cooling a little.
“Me too,” he said with a forced grin.
But then, as he walked around the truck and got in, he glanced over at Tabitha, who was looking down. Her hair had slid over her face, as she rifled through her backpack and pulled out her phone and studied the screen, as if avoiding looking at him.
He thought of what she’d said earlier. About her father.
“You know, I apologize for not saying anything sooner, but I was sorry to hear about your dad’s passing.”
Her hands stopped flicking over the screen and she looked over at him. “Thanks.”
“I know it was a few years ago, but it still must be difficult at times.”
“It can be. But sometimes I wish my dad looked out for me and Leanne the way your parents did for you. Especially your mother.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
She turned away but Morgan sensed there was more to her comment than she let on.
But he knew he would get nothing from her now, even though the faint bitterness in her voice made him wonder what she referred to.
Chapter Six
“I like these.” Nathan grabbed a pair of blue boots with a gray shaft and held them up to Tabitha for her inspection.
“You should ask your father,” Tabitha said, pointing her chin to Morgan.
“I don’t know if they have those in your size,” Morgan said, hating to take the smile off his son’s face.
“Can you see if they do?” Nathan handed him the boot, and for a fleeting moment Morgan caught a glimpse of yearning in his face. But it disappeared so quickly, he thought he might have imagined it.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
Lorn Talbot’s voice broke into the moment and Morgan spun around, still holding the boot Nathan had given him. The middle-aged man wore metal-rimmed glasses, his hair brushed neatly back, his shirt cinched with a narrow tie. When he smiled he showed the crooked teeth that gave him a faint lisp.
“If you could find a pair of these boots in my son’s size, that would be great,” Morgan said, holding out the boot.
Lorn looked momentarily taken aback. Then his polite smile reappeared. “Oh yes, I had heard that you came back with a son.”
As if Morgan had picked Nathan up from the side of the road. Or at a souvenir shop.
“Let’s first see what size he is.” Lorn moved past Morgan and snagged a large metal plate he remembered Mr. Talbot using on him whenever he was due for new boots or shoes.
He got Nathan to stand on it, measured his foot then sat back, his arm resting on one knee. “You’re in luck, boyo. I think we might have a pair left like that in your size.”
Tabitha stood to one side, and as Lorn got to his feet, he glanced her way. “Ah, Miss Rennie. Did you come to pay your dad’s bill?”
Lorn turned to Morgan, still grinning. “Floyd, Tabitha’s father, ordered three pairs of boots before he did his own boot-scooting-boogie out of town. Guess his boots really were made for walking, except he didn’t pay for them.”
Morgan stifled a groan at Lorn’s bad jokes. Then he saw Tabitha’s features harden.
“I’m sorry my father did that to you,” Tabitha said, her voice stiff, her hands clenched at her sides.
“All part of running a business, hon,” Lorn said with a grin, clearly showing that there were no hard feelings. “Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug.” Then he sauntered off to get Nathan’s boots.
Tabitha gave a tight grin but it wasn’t hard to see her discomfort.
Morgan wasn’t sure what to say but it bothered him to see her so upset and clearly embarrassed.
“What your dad did is no reflection on you,” he said, giving in to an impulse and laying a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t take all his mistakes on.”
Tabitha took a breath and he felt her relax under his hand. “It’s hard not to feel the humiliation of it.”
“I can understand that,” he said, not moving his hand. “But you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Thanks,” she said, her voice quiet as her eyes locked on his. “That means a lot.”
Their gaze held for a few heartbeats longer.
&nbs
p; Morgan tightened his grip on her shoulder, and as he lost himself in her eyes, he felt an inexpressible compulsion to kiss her.
Whoa. He was approaching dangerous territory.
Then Lorn returned and thankfully the moment was broken.
“Look at my boots.” Nathan held one foot out for their inspection.
“They look great,” Tabitha said, stepping away from Morgan. “How do they feel?”
Nathan strutted back and forth in the store, and when he returned, he dropped on the chair, tapping his toes together, looking proud of himself. “I’m so excited to wear these when I go riding.”
“It will be a lot of fun when that happens,” Tabitha said, affirming his comment.
“Thanks for your business,” Lorn said as Morgan tucked his wallet back in his pocket. Then he turned to Tabitha. “And I’m sorry for what I said about your father. Was trying to make a joke and it fell kind of flat.”
“Of course, Mr. Talbot. I understand,” Tabitha said, giving him a kind smile.
They walked out of the store, Nathan looking down at his boots.
“That was very gracious of you,” Morgan said as he held the door open for her. “It bothered me, what he said about your father.”
Tabitha shrugged. “He apologized. I have to accept that.”
“That’s quite something to say,” he said.
The flush on her cheeks surprised him. She didn’t strike him as the blushing sort.
Nathan stopped in front of another store, looking at the mannequin in the window. “That lady has funny lips,” he announced.
Tabitha stopped to look and chuckled with him. “Maybe she’s pouting because she doesn’t like the clothes she’s wearing.”
“Do you think that little boy likes his pants?” Nathan asked, pointing to the other mannequin standing beside the female one. “He’s smiling.”
“I think he does and I think they look nice.”
Nathan looked down at his pants, and Morgan, once again, felt a flush of shame at the raggedness of them. But what could he do? Nathan had insisted on wearing them and not the ones he bought for him. “Mine have holes in the knees,” he said.
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