Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

“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.