They rode in silence for several minutes, then Erin turned the cruiser into the driveway. In the adjacent pasture, the Appaloosa raised his head and watched them. “Hey, there’s Bandito,” she said.
Stephanie waved to the horse and blew him a kiss through the open window. “He’s so pretty. I showed him at the county fair when I was in 4-H. I won first place in western pleasure class. We rode in the trail class, too, but he’s never been good at backing. I could show you my ribbons if you want.”
“I’d love to see them. In fact, I’d love to see Bandito, too.”
The little girl’s face brightened. “Really?”
“Sure.” Erin stopped the cruiser.
“So, you really do like horses? The other day I thought you were just, you know, trying to be nice.”
“I like horses a lot. And I am really nice.” At Stephanie’s smile, she added, “Once you get to know me.”
“Do you really think I could ride him sometime, Erin? I mean, with my legs the way they are? You talked about it the other day, and I’ve sort of been wondering.”
Caution demanded Erin tread carefully when it came to this child. She didn’t want to give her false hopes. The little girl had had too many disappointments in recent years to build her up for another letdown. Nick seemed to be dead set against her taking on any activity that could be even remotely dangerous. On the other hand, Erin knew for a fact Stephanie could at least sit atop her horse; Erin had seen severely handicapped children ride horses with the help of adult spotters in the weeks she’d volunteered at the Quest Foundation. She’d personally spotted one such teenage boy afflicted with syringomyelia. Stephanie wasn’t severely handicapped. Surely Nick wouldn’t deny her that small joy in the name of safety. He had, after all, softened his stance on the basketball. Why would he object to her sitting atop Bandito?
“Do you want to give it a shot?” Erin asked, praying she hadn’t just committed herself to something that would once again put her and Nick at odds.
Stephanie’s grin was all the answer she needed.
* * *
“Oh, honey, I don’t know.” Mrs. Thornsberry worried her pearl necklace with nervous fingers.
“Oh, please, please, please!” said Stephanie, using her arms to rock her wheelchair back and forth on the kitchen floor. “Bandito is so lonely, Mrs. T., and Erin said she’d spot me.”
“Spot you?” the older woman asked. “What’s that?”
“Uh…walk alongside the horse to make sure she doesn’t fall off,” Erin clarified from her place at the kitchen door.
“Oh.” Mrs. Thornsberry shot Erin a stern look. “You’ve done this before?”
“I volunteered at the Quest Foundation in Chicago for a couple of months. They’ve got a renowned equestrian program.”
Recognition flared in the older woman’s eyes. “I know of it. Very reputable organization.”
Erin nodded. “Volunteers go through an intensive training program.”
Mrs. Thornsberry still didn’t look convinced.
“On my first day,” Erin continued, “I watched a fourteen-year-old paraplegic ride for the first time. I’ll never forget the look on his face when they lifted him onto that horse. It was one of the most moving experiences of my life.”
“C’mon, Erin, come see my ribbons,” Stephanie interjected. “I have a trophy, too.”
Mrs. Thornsberry dried her hands on a dish towel and looked down at Stephanie. “Honey, why don’t you go get your boots while Erin and I have a little talk.”
Erin took a deep breath, certain that “talk” was synonymous with lecture. She’d overstepped again. Not the first time since she’d set foot in Logan Falls.
“You’re not going to talk Erin out of spotting me, are you, Mrs. T?” Steph asked.
“Scoot.” Mrs. Thornsberry pushed the wheelchair toward the door. “Dig your riding boots out of your closet, and I’ll help you put them on. If your feet are swelled, you can wear your sneakers.”
“Really? Okay!”
When the little girl was out of earshot, the older woman turned to Erin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her so excited.”
“I hope I haven’t gotten her hopes up for no reason,” Erin said. “I don’t want her to be disappointed.”
“You mean if Nick doesn’t approve?”
She met the older woman’s gaze steadily. “He seems dead set against any activity that could be perceived as dangerous.”
“Nick’s a good man, Erin. He can be uncompromising, particularly when it comes to Stephanie. But he’s devoted. I’ve never seen a more committed, loving father than Nick. His entire life centers around that girl.”
“That’s never come into question—”
“Of course it hasn’t.”
“But he’s also a little…” Erin let her voice trail off, not sure how to put into words what she felt in her heart without sounding harsh, or appearing judgmental. She didn’t have children; didn’t know the first thing about raising them, either. Still, she’d had some experiences in her life that made her unable to ignore what she knew to be true.
“Overprotective?” Mrs. Thornsberry’s gaze turned knowing.
Erin nodded. “There are a lot of things Stephanie can still do that Nick refuses to consider. I think that’s where some of her frustration comes in.”
“You mean her skipping school?”
“I think she’s crying out for something she’s not getting.”
“Nick is a good father,” Mrs. Thornsberry said fiercely. Busying her hands by adjusting her apron, she turned to the counter. “Rita’s death was hard on this family. Stephanie nearly died that first night. Good heavens, Nick spent so much time at the hospital with her that first terrible week, he practically didn’t have time to grieve. But Rita’s death changed him. And not all the changes I’ve seen in him were good.”
“What changes?”
“He’s always been a very private man. He’s not vocal about his feelings—well, unless he’s angry. He isn’t good at reaching out. After Rita’s death, he just…shut down.”
“You mean emotionally?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. He was crazy about Rita. But she drove him nuts.” As if immersed in memories, Mrs. Thornsberry smiled. “Rita was a free spirit. A dare-devil, if you will. She never listened to anyone. Never followed the rules. She liked loud music. Liked to drive fast with the top down on her convertible. She was into skydiving—at night, of all times. Scuba diving—dove with sharks down in Florida a few years back. Good heavens, she even went bungee jumping once. She’d do anything that was fast or dangerous or both. Drove Nick crazy.”
Erin had an idea where the conversation was heading, and her heart did a long, slow roll under her ribs. “What happened?”
“Rita was out with Stephanie one night. Rita and Nick had quarreled earlier. He never told me that, but I heard them. As usual, Rita was driving too fast. She lost control of her car at the Logan Creek bridge. The car flipped and went down the embankment. The top was down on the convertible, so it offered no protection. I’d been working for them for a couple of years at the time. I’d just put in a casserole for dinner when the deputy called Nick.” Mrs. Thornsberry removed her bifocals and made a show of cleaning the lens with her apron. “Lord have mercy, what that man must have gone through.” The older woman shook her head. “He hasn’t been the same since.”
Erin remembered Nick’s account of the accident, and realized he’d left out most of the details. For the first time, his overprotective nature toward his daughter made perfect sense. “That’s the accident that put Stephanie in the wheelchair?”
Mrs. Thornsberry nodded. “He’d warned Rita about driving too fast, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“That must have been terrible for him.”
“This family has seen more than its share of tragedy. I suspect Nick is so protective around Steph because he’s afraid of losing her, the way he lost Rita. I keep telling myself he’ll come aroun
d and stop being so…so vigilant. But it’s been three years. He hasn’t moved on. Not with Stephanie.” The older woman looked at Erin. “Not with his own life.”
Erin knew immediately they were no longer talking about Stephanie, or Nick’s overprotective nature, but the fact that she and Nick had been caught in the throes of a passionate kiss the night of Stephanie’s birthday party. The memory made her cheeks flame.
“There hasn’t been anyone for him since the accident,” Mrs. Thornsberry said. “That’s a long time for a man to be alone.”
“We’re not involved,” Erin said quickly.
“He’s been…preoccupied since you came along. Nick isn’t frivolous when it comes to women.”
Translated, Mrs. Thornsberry was telling her that Nick didn’t kiss just any woman out in his driveway. Erin didn’t know what to say, didn’t want this woman getting the wrong idea about her and Nick. There wasn’t anything between them. Just that blasted, earth-shattering, mind-numbing kiss.
The older woman smiled wisely. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“Like he wants to throttle me.” Erin forced a laugh, determined to keep the conversation from going in a direction that would put into words a problem that had become increasingly difficult to deal with.
“You’ve shaken him up, Erin. You’re strong willed and don’t let him bully you. Until you came into his life, I didn’t realize how badly he needed that.”
Despite her efforts to keep the conversation light, Erin’s heart beat hard and fast in her chest. “I’m not the right woman for the job,” she whispered a little desperately.
“That, my dear, remains to be seen.”
“I can’t get my boots on!” Stephanie rolled her wheelchair into the kitchen, her face filled with disappointment, her sneakers on her lap. “My feet are swelled,” she announced.
“Your dad will have to rub them for you tonight.” Mrs. Thornsberry clucked her tongue. “For now, you can wear your sneakers.” Kneeling in front of the little girl, she shot Erin a look over her shoulder. “Put that other sneaker on for her, will you, Erin? Bandito is waiting.”
* * *
“Up and at ’em!” Erin lifted the little girl up onto an ever-patient Bandito’s back.
“I can’t get my leg over,” said Stephanie.
“Yes, you can.” Erin ducked under Bandito’s neck and tugged the child’s leg into place. “Sheesh, how much do you weigh?” she teased. “A ton?”
“No!”
“Feels like it.”
“Hey, I’m on!”
The joy in Stephanie’s voice struck a chord in Erin. The change in the little girl was dramatic. Her cornflower-blue eyes were alight with happiness, her lips pulled into a grin. Erin had never seen her so excited, and felt her own excitement build in her chest like a rainbow in the wake of a spring storm.
Stepping back, she studied girl and horse carefully. “You’re going to have to hold on to the horn,” Erin said. “Don’t let go no matter what.”
Biting her lip in concentration, Stephanie wrapped both hands around the leather horn. “’Kay.”
Five minutes later, Erin led Bandito down the aisle toward the barn door, with Stephanie astride. The little girl’s right foot dangled uselessly, but she gripped the horn with white-knuckled determination. Satisfied, Erin said, “Looks like we’re set. Let’s take Bandito into the round pen.”
“I don’t like not being able to use my legs. Bandito knows leg commands.”
“You two will just have to compensate.” Standing on the left side of the horse, Erin led him toward the pen a dozen yards away. “Horses are smart, Steph. Bandito can be retrained, can learn new ways to receive his commands.”
On reaching the pen, Erin opened the gate. She looked up at Stephanie and found the little girl grinning from ear to ear.
“He remembers me,” she whispered. “I can tell.”
“Of course he does,” Erin said. “Horses don’t forget someone they love just because they haven’t seen them for a while.”
She led the horse around the pen, watching the animal, but barely taking her eyes from Stephanie. The September sun beat down on Erin’s dark blue uniform, and she broke into a sweat. It was warm for fall in the Midwest, but she was so caught up in the magic on Stephanie’s face, she barely noticed the heat. It was the perfect day for a little girl to ride her horse.
“I want to trot,” Steph said.
“No way.”
“I won’t fall off.”
“That’s what people say right before they fall off.”
Stephanie giggled. “Okay, at least walk him a little faster. He needs the exercise.”
“I’m the one who’s getting all the exercise,” Erin grumbled good-naturedly, but she was thinking of Nick. “No trotting, kiddo.”
“Okay, maybe we’ll save that for next time.”
Erin brushed a drop of sweat from her temple, hoping with all her heart there was going to be a next time.
“This is great!”
“Easy for you to say,” she said. “Bandito and I are doing all the work.”
Grinning despite the fact that she was breathing hard, and getting her clean uniform all sweaty, Erin continued around the pen. Dust coated her boots and the bottom of her pants. Her hair slowly unraveled from its knot at her nape, but she didn’t care. She was having too much fun watching Stephanie—and feeling the heady rush of satisfaction that came with the knowledge that she’d made a difference in this sweet child’s life.
At the far end of the ring, Erin finally paused.
“What’s wrong?” asked Stephanie.
“I’m getting a stitch in my side.” She was about to ask Stephanie if she wanted something to drink when movement at the end of the driveway drew her gaze. Erin’s heart plummeted when she spotted Nick’s Suburban speeding down the driveway, a rooster tail of dust in its wake.
CHAPTER 8
Nick’s heart stopped dead in his chest when he saw Stephanie in the round pen astride Bandito, with Erin walking alongside. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The horse was walking fast enough to seriously injure Stephanie if she lost her balance and fell.
How could Erin act so irresponsibly?
He brought the truck to a skidding halt in front of the barn, out of sight from the pen. Throwing open the door, he hit the ground running. By the time he entered the barn, he was breathless not only from the short run, but from the burgeoning anger that had his pulse racing like hot mercury through his veins.
Nick had always prided himself on control. A father at the age of twenty-nine, he’d trained himself to keep his emotions in check, keep a constant grip on his temper. But as he watched Erin lead the horse through the rear door of the barn with his little girl astride, his temper ignited.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
Erin stopped, her gaze wary and level on Nick. “I was—”
“Don’t be mad, Dad.”
Stephanie’s words struck him like a stinging lash. Nick looked at his daughter and felt the fist of emotion lodged in his chest tighten even more. “I’m not angry with you, Steph.”
“Don’t be mad at Erin, either,” she said. “She didn’t do anything wrong. Riding Bandito was my idea.”
Shaking with the remnants of fear and a powerful anger he hadn’t been prepared for, Nick approached the horse slowly and reached for Stephanie. “Come here.” He dragged her into his arms. Her little-girl scent surrounded him like a soft cloud. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Dad, I’m okay. Geez, we were just walking.”
He closed his eyes against the ensuing burst of emotion. He wouldn’t let this innocent child be hurt. Not again. Certainly not by a reckless adult.
“You smell like Bandito,” he said.
Stephanie grinned. “I like the way he smells.”
Not wanting her to notice his state of mind, he forced a smile. “Go inside and ask Mrs. T. to fix a pot of coffee for me, would you, honeybunch?”
/>
The little girl eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going to yell at Erin, aren’t you?”
He heard the woman in question behind him, putting Bandito into his stall, but Nick didn’t look at her. He wasn’t sure what it would do to him if he did. He was angry and wanted to stay that way. “Erin and I are going to have a talk.”
“About what?”
“About boundaries and responsibility.” Carrying Stephanie over to the wheelchair, he settled her in the seat. “Tell Em I’ll be inside in a few minutes.”
Stephanie looked past him toward Erin. Nick didn’t miss the quick, uncertain smile, or the spark of newfound respect in his little girl’s eyes. It had been a long time since Steph had smiled at anyone but him and Mrs. T—and she didn’t do it nearly often enough to suit him. He wondered how Erin McNeal had managed to reach her in such a short period of time.
“I gotta go,” Stephanie said to Erin “Sorry you got all sweaty and dirty.”
Erin looked down at her uniform. “Hey, a little dust never hurt anyone.”
Ignoring Erin as best he could, Nick helped his daughter maneuver the wheelchair around, then watched her disappear through the door. Aware that his heart rate was dangerously high, he closed the door behind him and turned to face Erin.
In keeping with her tough-guy image, she raised her chin. “This isn’t as…premeditated as it looks.”
He started toward her. “Really?”
She stepped back. “Stephanie came to the station asking for you. She skipped school and needed a ride home. You were at the courthouse, so I drove her home. One thing led to another and—”
“One thing led to another?” Nick barely recognized his own voice. “That’s a lame excuse, don’t you think?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Just who do you think you are, walking into my home and endangering my daughter like that?”
“She wasn’t in any danger.”
Nick ground his teeth at her denial. “That horse weighs a thousand pounds. He hasn’t been ridden in over three years. Don’t tell me she wasn’t in any danger.”
Lay Down the Law Page 12
