He shoved the battered black Stetson off his eyes. "You aren't going to ride like that, are yo
u?"
"It's more comfortable this way," she lied. It was the most uncomfortable contraption she'd ever been in.
He shook his head. A smile lurked in his green eyes.
She hazarded a guess. "This is unladylike."
"Very."
She leaned over a tiny bit and studied the two curls of leather that sprouted from the side of the saddle like rabbit ears. "Let me guess: I slide down and dangle my right leg over this ... thing."
The smile slipped to his mouth and turned into a grin. "You got it."
She grabbed hold of Red's mane and slid cautiously into place. "This can't be right. I feel like a bug on the side of a car antenna."
He frowned at her description. "You always say a lady?a southern lady?doesn't care about comfort."
She smiled thinly. It took a great deal of self-control not to snap at him. "Obviously not. Shall we go?"
First surprise, then anger, flashed in his eyes. "You still want to?"
"Of course."
With a bitten-off curse, Jack mounted up and turned his horse toward the road. "Come on Turk, let's go."
It was a long, silent ride to the schoolhouse.
The one-room building came into view as they turned the last corner on Portland Hill Road.
173
Jack stared at the small clapboard structure that served
as meeting hall, church, and summertime schoolhouse, and
felt anger at the woman who dared to call his Katie lazy
creep uncontrollably back into his chest. Don't do it, he thought. Don't let yourself feel rage or
fear or pain.
The familiar litany didn't work this time. He tried again and again, getting more and more desperate with each attempt. He couldn't distance himself from his emotions, not this time. They were roiling around inside of him like liquid fire, coiling around his gut. "What a pretty little building. Is that the school?" Jack's fingers tightened around the reins. Tension drew his mouth into a grim, colorless line. "Yes."
"Good. Okay, let's talk about how to handle this situation."
Her sentence hit him like a cold wind. "What did you say?"
"We need a plan of attack, so to speak. A way to enlist the old bat's help with Katie. We have to be calm and pleasant at all costs." She frowned in thought. "Maybe buttering her up would help."
Terror stole through his body. Surely she didn't mean for them to speak to the teacher together. As parents. He could never remain numb if he actually heard the condemning words about his baby. "We won't do a damn thing. I showed you where the schoolhouse is. My job's done."
"Sorry, Jack. It takes two to tango."
"What in the hell does that mean?"
"It means it took both of us to create Katie. And it'll take both of us to help her through this crisis."