by Janet Dailey
Kira was happily surprised with the way Jake was handling his new duties. But she could sense the rebellion seething beneath his compliant surface. This ranch was not where he wanted to be; and she was not the person he wanted to be with—especially after what she’d told him about her role in Wendy’s death. He had to be counting the hours and adding up the wages, just waiting for the time when he could write off his debt to Dusty and hit the road.
But why should it matter? Kira asked herself. She hadn’t wanted him here in the first place. And with so many painful memories between them, she certainly didn’t want him to stay.
Did she?
* * *
After breakfast Jake dismissed the students with instructions to meet outside the stable in fifteen minutes with their work gloves and helmets. Jake was about to go back to the stable, but Kira stopped him on the porch. “What did you say to them last night?” she asked.
“‘Say to them’?” Jake raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.
“You know what I’m talking about. Yesterday they were acting like spoiled pests. This morning they were saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ They bussed their dishes and actually thanked Consuelo for breakfast, and they didn’t leave until you dismissed them. You must’ve really put the fear into them.”
Jake gave her a mysterious glance. He was enjoying this. And he was enjoying the way Kira looked when her guard was down and she wasn’t giving orders. There was a softness to the angular planes of her face and a tempting fullness to her glossed lips.
“What did you do?” she asked again.
“Nothing much. I just pretended I was back in the army and the kids were a bunch of recruits. You told me to flash my tattoo. That’s pretty much what I did.”
Her mouth curved in a smile. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. Thanks.” She paused, and Jake could sense a mental shift. By now, he knew what to expect. “I still need to call Patrick’s parents,” she said. “While I’m doing that, you can get the students started on cleaning the paddock.”
“Roger. I take it you’ll still want Patrick there when you make the call. I’ll send him in.”
“Thanks. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. I doubt Patrick’s parents will be surprised. The boy has issues with rules and with impulse control. What he did yesterday, climbing on those rocks, was typical behavior—the sort that equine therapy has a good chance of helping.”
Jake turned to go, then paused. “Didn’t you say it was unethical to talk about your students?”
“I did. But that was before you were working with them. Now that you’re part of the team, you’ll need to understand a little about each one. The counseling sessions will still be confidential, but I can, at least, fill you in on their backgrounds.”
“Part of the team.” It shouldn’t matter, Jake thought. But for some reason, it felt good.
He was about to leave again when Paige came out onto the porch. Since he hadn’t seen her at breakfast, Jake guessed that she must’ve eaten in the kitchen. She was dressed for the day, except for her sneakers, which trailed their laces as she walked.
“Hi, Mister Jake.” She gave him a heart-melting smile. “Would you help me tie my shoes?”
Kira stepped forward. “Mister Jake has to go, honey. Come here, I’ll help you.”
“No.” Paige’s face assumed an adorable pout. “I want Mister Jake to help me.”
Jake glanced at Kira. She shrugged and rolled her eyes. Was she put-out, maybe even hurt? Feeling awkward, Jake bent and tied the pink laces into bows. “How’s that?” he asked Paige.
Paige looked down at her shoes. “It’s fine. Can I help you feed the horses, Mister Jake?”
His discomfort growing, Jake shook his head. “Sorry, Paige, the horses have already been fed. I was able to do it because you showed me how last night. You were a good teacher. Maybe another time, okay?”
“Okay.” Paige sighed.
Kira straightened the straw hat on Paige’s head. “The students will be grooming and leading the horses. You can watch if you’ll stay out of the way. But you’ll have to wait here while I make a phone call.”
“Can’t I just go now with Mister Jake?”
Kira’s eyes met Jake’s above the little girl’s head. He’d half-expected to see jealousy in her gaze. Instead what he saw was concern—a concern he shared. This headstrong child, for whatever reason, had attached herself to him and would not be turned away. How would she take it when he walked out of her life a second time?
“Please, Aunt Kira,” Paige’s look would have melted stone. “I won’t be any trouble.”
Kira sighed. “All right. I’ll be along in a few minutes. You stay with Mister Jake and do what he says. Promise?”
“Promise.” The little girl skipped after Jake, who’d already headed for the stable. Halfway there she caught his hand. Jake felt his heart fracture as the small fingers slipped into his palm. He’d done his best to ignore the blood bond with his daughter. But it was as if Paige, in her innocence, had sensed it at once. Whatever lay ahead for them was bound to be painful—even frightening.
As they crossed the yard, another dynamite blast shook the air, echoing up the canyon to ring in Jake’s ears. Taking deep breaths, he let the sound wash over him as he walked, holding tight to his little girl’s hand.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kira sat on the living-room couch, sipping an iced tea and waiting for Heather to come in. Her first one-on-one counseling session had been set for yesterday, but Dusty’s emergency had preempted everything. This afternoon she was playing catch-up with the program schedule.
When she’d phoned the hospital after lunch, the nurse had said her grandfather was asleep. Later, Kira would drive into Tucson to visit him again. Right now, she would give her full attention to the troubled girl who needed her help.
While she waited, she reviewed the notes she’d taken when she’d talked with Heather’s parents. Fifteen-year-old Heather was bright, but she was a few pounds overweight and felt less attractive than her pretty, popular older sister, Megan. She hid her lack of confidence by being pushy and sarcastic. Her issues with her sister had come to a head when Megan had been elected homecoming queen. The afternoon before the dance, Heather had stolen into Megan’s room and used a pair of scissors to slash her sister’s gown. Her parents, good people, desperate for help, were hoping that the horse therapy program would ease Heather’s hostility and raise her self-esteem.
At the sound of the front door opening, Kira slid the folder under the couch and rose to greet her student. Heather came in dragging her feet, a scowl on her face. “Do I really have to do this crap?” she asked.
“You do. But only once a week. And you get to choose what you tell me—or don’t tell me. I’m here to listen, not to judge. Have a seat.”
“Fine, but I’m not here to talk.” Heather sank onto the far end of the couch, grabbed a Diet Coke from the cooler on the floor and popped the tab.
“That’s up to you,” Kira said. “But the time will go faster if we chat. How are things working out for you here? Are you enjoying the horses?”
“They’re okay. But I don’t like shoveling their poop.”
“Nobody does. But it’s part of having horses. They don’t clean up after themselves. Hey, you did great with the leading today. That mare went right along with you.”
Heather shrugged and took a swig from the red-and-white can. Her nails, Kira noticed, were bitten to the quick.
“Is your cabin okay? How are you getting along with your roommates?”
Heather shrugged again. “Lanie’s okay. But Faith is a bitch. Always in the bathroom primping. We can’t even go in and pee without asking Her Royal Highness’s permission. She reminds me of my sister.”
“Reminds you how?”
“Oh, you know, it’s all about her and how she has to look perfect all the time, so everybody will see her and think how beautiful she is. It sucks, having a sister like that.” Her hands tightene
d around the can, making it buckle. “But I got back at Megan. I got her good.”
Kira saw an opening. “I know what you did to your sister’s dress. Your mother told me.”
“The dress?” Heather’s fist crushed the can. A spurt of Coke spattered the tile as she dropped it on the floor. “That stupid dress was nothing compared to what I did before that.”
“What did you do?” Kira felt a tingling premonition.
“You really want to know?”
“Only if you want to tell me. I meant it when I said I wasn’t here to judge.”
“And you won’t tell my parents?”
“I’m your therapist. What you tell me is private.”
“Okay.” Heather’s hands were clasped on her knees, the fingers interlaced. “Megan’s boyfriend, Kevin, came by the house when nobody was home but me. I told him that if he wanted it, I could give him something better than kissing bitchy Megan. So . . . I did.”
“You had sex with him?” Kira willed herself not to appear shocked.
“Yup. But that isn’t all. It gets even better. A lot better.” Her tone was sarcastic.
“Better how?” Kira asked.
Heather gazed down at her clasped hands, then back at Kira. A tear glimmered in her eye. “I’m pregnant.”
* * *
Kira didn’t get away to visit Dusty until dinnertime. Another session with the horses—approaching them in the paddock, putting on their halters and returning them to their stalls, along with the follow-up discussion—had taken much of the afternoon. That activity had gone well, as had the phone call to Patrick’s parents and the one-on-one with Calvin, a sweet, gifted boy who just wanted acceptance.
Jake had been quietly supportive, stepping in where he was needed to adjust a halter strap or encourage a hesitant youngster. At the same time, he’d kept his distance from Kira, leaving her to do her job.
She was grateful for his help, even though his presence brought to mind a gentle wind that could blow in a thunderstorm. Jake O’Reilly was a mass of contradictions—a strong and decent man plagued by inner demons. Kira’s instincts told her that his coming here would end badly. But right now, she needed him—and she had little choice except to trust him.
Sunset streaked the sky as she drove through the desert foothills. Kira switched on the headlights, knowing it would be dusk by the time she reached the hospital. Dusty had been on her mind all day. Last night the old man had looked like a frail stranger. Tonight she could only hope he’d be well enough to enjoy her visit.
Kira had long since learned that for her, the only way to function was to divide her concerns into mental boxes. There was a box for the horses, a box for the program, a box for Paige and now a box for Dusty. Close one; open another. That was how she made it through each day.
Some boxes she opened every day. Others, like her parents’ deaths, were sealed shut. Wendy’s box had been sealed shut, too, until Jake had forced her to open it, look inside and see things she only wanted to forget.
Now she’d added a new box—Heather, and what to do about her pregnancy. Since the secret had been privileged communication, she couldn’t discuss it with anyone—not Jake, not Dusty, not even Heather’s parents. But the girl needed support. She needed a doctor. She needed to make decisions and plans for the baby.
Then there was the liability issue—cold but a real concern. Should anything go wrong, having allowed Heather to work with the horses while pregnant could leave the program open to a lawsuit.
All things considered, Heather would have to leave. And the girl would have to tell her parents why. Tomorrow, after breakfast, Kira would call her into the office, lay out the realities and hand her the phone.
As Kira drove into the hospital parking lot, she closed Heather’s box and opened Dusty’s. Worries weighed on her as she hurried into the building and took the elevator to the third floor. What if the stent wasn’t working? What if the old cowboy had suffered another heart attack?
Outside the door of his room, she paused to take a deep breath. Then she gave a light rap on the door, opened it and stepped into the room. Her grandfather was sitting up in bed, finishing a dinner of roast chicken and looking almost his usual self.
Giddy with relief, she strode to his bedside and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re looking so much better,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“Rarin’ to get up and get the hell out of here.” His hoarse voice betrayed his weakened condition. “Fool doctor says I have to stay another couple of days. But I’ve had it with getting poked and prodded and eating this damned hospital food. Maybe the next time you come, you could smuggle me in some of Consuelo’s tamales.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Kira pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. “Meanwhile, don’t tax yourself worrying or trying to get up. The nurse says the best thing for your heart is rest.”
“Rest! Hell, I’m going stir-crazy!” He reached out and pressed her hand. “How are things at the ranch? Is Jake working out all right?”
“Jake’s been a lot of help. He can’t lecture like you do, and he still doesn’t like horses much, but he runs those students like they’re new recruits at boot camp—and they eat it up. It’s like they think he’s Superman.”
Dusty grinned. “I knew that bringing Jake to the ranch would turn out to be a good thing. How’s Paige doing?”
“She tags around after him like a little puppy.” Should she tell Dusty about her concern that Paige was headed for a broken heart? But why worry the old man now, when the last thing he needed was stress?
“Paige still doesn’t know he’s her father?”
“I don’t think Jake wants her to know—ever. He’s still not planning to stay.”
“He told you that?”
“Yes, the day after he arrived.” She remembered their early-morning clash on the canyon trail. “But he does mean to repay you before he leaves. So he should be around for a while—at least until you’re back on your feet.”
“I see.” Dusty looked disappointed. “How’s he dealing with the PTSD?”
“It’s there. But he does a good job of masking it around Paige and the students.”
“I was hoping that being on the ranch, with the horses, might help him.”
“It might. But that remains to be seen.” Kira rose. “I’m wearing you out. It’s time I drove home and let you get some rest. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”
“Bring Jake next time,” Dusty said. “Or send him in your place if you can’t leave the kids. I could use a word with him.”
“Of course. Rest easy.” Kira brushed a kiss across his forehead and left. On the way to the car, she found herself wondering about her grandfather’s intent. Had Dusty known all along that he had a bad heart? Was that why he’d gone to so much trouble to find Jake and bring him to the ranch, so someone would be there to help her? Had he done it for her, for Paige or for Jake himself?
She took her time driving back to the ranch, stopping for more donuts, playing the radio and doing her best to clear her head. Tonight, in her absence, the students were being treated to an outdoor cookout, with a blaze in the big fire pit east of the house. They’d be roasting hot dogs and toasting marshmallows to make s’mores for dessert. If Dusty had been there, he would have regaled them with stories of his rodeo days. Jake didn’t have that background, and Kira knew he wouldn’t want to talk about the war. But she had little doubt that her charges were in capable hands.
It was ten fifteen when she pulled through the side gate and parked her car in the vehicle shed. From there she could see the glow of the burning fire, but no one was moving in the yard. Except for the front-porch light and the dimmed lamp in the living room, the house windows were dark.
As she walked closer, a lone figure rose from one of the stone benches that rimmed the fire pit. Silhouetted against the flames, Jake stood waiting.
* * *
By the time Kira finally showed up, Jake had begun to worry about her. A
lone woman on the road after dark—anything could go wrong. An accident, a blown tire or car trouble could leave her vulnerable to any human predator who happened along. He’d tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous, that Kira was a strong, capable woman who could take care of herself. But overprotectiveness was one aspect of his PTSD. And it wasn’t something he could turn off like a switch. He’d lost too many good men on his watch—men he cared about as friends and brothers. Now, whether he liked it or not, he was beginning to care about Kira.
About her, not for her.
It wasn’t the same thing, he reminded himself as she walked into sight. He wasn’t fit for a romantic relationship with any woman. But the relief he’d felt at the sound of her car was strong enough to make his pulse leap.
The firelight sharpened the planes of her face and veiled her eyes in shadow. She was a protector, too, watching over everyone and everything on this small ranch. Tonight she looked as if she needed a break, Jake thought. When was the last time anyone had protected her, or cradled her in his arms and made her feel that it was all right to let go?
Not that it should be any of his business.
“Where is everybody?” she asked.
“Asleep, I hope. Paige and the students are tucked in their beds, and you gave Consuelo the night off.” He wouldn’t tell her about tucking Paige in and hearing her bedtime prayer, or how deeply he’d ached when she’d asked God to bless her daddy and bring him home.
“How’s Dusty?” he asked.
Her smile showed some strain. “Better. Strong enough to complain. All he wants to do is come home. But the doctors are keeping him a couple more days. That’s probably a good idea. Oh—he wants you to come visit him tomorrow. He said he could use a word with you, whatever he meant by that.”
“He didn’t say what he wanted?”
“Not a hint.” Kira shrugged her slim shoulders. “Since one of us needs to be here with the students, I’ll probably let you go alone.”
“You don’t mind my taking the Jeep?”
“Take my Outback. It gets better gas mileage. Just don’t let Dusty talk you into smuggling him out of the hospital. I wouldn’t put it past him to try it.” She turned back toward the house.
