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.
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."
"Bandito is well trained and even better behaved." Erin took another step back. "Stephanie wanted to ride, Nick. She begged me to take her riding."
"So you suggested she hop up on his back and go for a spin? And that's not irresponsible?"
"It's compassionate. She loves that horse-"
"She's a nine-year-old kid with a serious spinal condition. She isn't qualified to make the decision as to whether or not she can ride a horse. Neither are you."
"She did great. Nick, she laughed, for God's sake. She laughed! The instant she got on that horse, she came alive."
"I'm aware of her wants, McNeal. I don't need you pointing them out to me."
"Are you sure about that?"
Nick tried to bank his boiling temper, but she was pushing him too hard. "You don't know anything about her. You sure as hell don't know anything about me."
"Maybe I know more than you think."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I know about the accident, Nick. I know what happened to your wife. I know why. I think that explains a lot about you."
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