“That’s right,” Kira said. “You might be able to fool people, but you can’t fool a horse. And the horse will never try to fool you. Horses are honest to the bone, and they expect the same from you.”
After a few more comments, Kira dismissed her students to wash up and get ready for lunch. The morning had gone well. They were off to a good start, but there were bound to be some bumps down the road. These kids weren’t here because they were happy and well-adjusted. They were here because they needed help. It would be her job as a therapist to see that each of them received that help.
In the afternoon, they’d be taking a field trip to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum—a twenty-one–acre educational showplace for the desert’s plants and animals. By the time they returned to the ranch, the teens would be worn-out and ready for dinner. After that, Kira would have her first one-on-one session, starting with Heather.
Dusty’s SUV, with an extra bench seat installed in the back, was the go-to vehicle for hauling students around. Kira had been planning to have Dusty drive, as usual. But while the teens were at lunch, he’d taken her aside. “It’ll be a long afternoon, and I don’t know if I’m up for it,” he said. “I’ve asked Jake to drive you.”
Kira gazed at him in sudden concern. Her grandfather had been strong and active for as long as she could remember. But he was in his midseventies now. Maybe it was time she faced the fact that he needed to slow down.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Fine.” He patted her shoulder. “Just not as young and spry as I used to be. Jake drove that Jeep all the way back from Flagstaff. He’ll do fine.”
A moment flickered in Kira’s memory: Jake’s reaction to the dynamite blast that morning—the warm, manly weight of his body as he’d held her down, and her unexpected response. She swiftly dismissed it. That had nothing to do with now. Her concern was for her students. How would it affect them if he had another such episode? Would they be safe with him?
Even without that concern, she didn’t feel ready to spend the afternoon with the man. Being with Jake stirred memories of the past, with secrets that were best forgotten.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I can drive the Jeep myself.”
“Now, Kira, I know you like to focus on the kids, not on the road. And it never hurts to have another grown-up along. Anyway, I already asked Jake. He said he’d do it.”
Kira sighed, giving in. “Fine. Will Paige be all right staying here? I was going to take her along, but with Jake there—”
“She’s already met him,” Dusty said. “Consuelo found her out by the shed with Jake this morning.”
Kira’s pulse skipped. “Does Paige know—”
“No. And neither does Consuelo. As far as they’re concerned, he’s just a stranger I hired to do some work. Stop fussing about it, Kira. Sometimes things need a little shaking up.”
“But not where Paige is concerned. Jake isn’t stable. I don’t want him upsetting her, or maybe even scaring her.”
“He’s her father.”
“And right now, that can’t be allowed to matter. I’m leaving her here. She won’t be happy about it, but she’ll be fine with you and Consuelo. Meanwhile, I’m going to have my hands full—not just babysitting my students, but worrying about Jake. Ask me next time, before you get him involved.”
* * *
Washed, combed and wearing a clean T-shirt, Jake wandered into the kitchen. From the dining room, he could hear Kira’s teenage gang laughing and talking over lunch. He’d been invited to join them, but he didn’t want to be stared at or questioned. Even agreeing to drive them this afternoon was probably a mistake.
Consuelo was at the sink, loading the dishwasher. “Hi,” he greeted her. “I was hoping I could make myself a quick sandwich.”
“There’s some already made.” Consuelo pointed to a stacked plate on the counter. “Have all you want. And there’s Diet Coke in the fridge.”
“Thanks.” Still standing, Jake picked up a sandwich and took a bite. Turkey, bacon and tomato on whole wheat. It was first-rate. “And thanks for the cookies,” he said. “Paige brought me two of them before she had to run back to the house.”
Consuelo laughed. “That little sneak. I thought there were a couple of cookies missing from the pan. She seems to have taken a fancy to you.”
Something tightened around Jake’s heart. “Don’t ask me why,” he said. “I haven’t been all that friendly to her.”
Consuelo’s dark eyes took his measure. For a moment, Jake feared she might have figured out who he was. But her gaze lingered on the Army Ranger tattoo—a traditional winged skull with a flag—that decorated his upper arm. “You were in the army?” she asked.
“Yeah, for a few years.” He popped the tab on a can of Diet Coke.
“My son was in the army,” she said. “They sent him to Iraq. He’d been there a month when he was killed by a roadside bomb.”
And a bastard like me is still alive. Where’s the justice in this world?
“I’m sorry,” Jake said, thinking about the buddies he’d lost and the times he’d yearned to trade places with any one of them. It was the thought of those men that had kept him from putting a bullet through his own head in the dark times. They had died for a cause. How could he throw away his own life—the life that fate and luck had spared—for nothing?