It was time to change the subject. “How are you getting along with your roommates?” Kira asked.
Faith smoothed back a lock of hair. “How do you think? Heather’s an obnoxious, lying bully, and Lanie follows her around like a little pup. I can’t stand them. Isn’t there some way I can have a room to myself?”
“Sorry, there’s no space,” Kira said. “And even if there were, it’s against policy for students to room alone. You might try getting to know those girls better.”
“Sure.” Faith rose with a sigh. “Well, at least my horse understands me.”
* * *
After Faith had left, Kira sat and gazed out the window, lost in thought. The girl had some serious trust issues, starting with an absent, uncaring father. It might well have been the hunger for a man’s attention that had left her vulnerable to the lure of an older male predator. If the relationship hadn’t been discovered, an incident might have become a tragedy.
What if something like that happened to Paige?
When her father had left, Faith hadn’t been much older than Paige was now. So far, Paige seemed satisfied that her father was in the army and couldn’t come home. But that illusion wouldn’t last much longer. Either way, whether she learned Jake’s true identity or not, she would grow up believing her father hadn’t cared enough to be around for her. She could become as needy and vulnerable as poor Faith.
Unless Jake manned up and stayed.
Agitated, Kira rose and began a nervous tidying of her office, straightening the items on her desk, dusting her computer, tossing a bouquet of wilted wildflowers into the wastebasket. She’d disagreed with Dusty’s decision to bring Jake here. But what if her grandfather had been the wise one? What if he’d been right?
She’d seen how Paige had taken to Jake, even without knowing who he was; and she’d seen how unhappy the little girl was now that her new friend was off-limits. She’d also seen the contentment that had settled over Jake when he’d allowed himself to be with her. Paige needed her father. Jake needed his child.
In her training as an equine therapist, Kira had worked with a number of traumatized combat vets, some of them far worse off than Jake. If PTSD wasn’t entirely curable, the symptoms could at least be managed. Kira felt confident that she could help Jake, making it easier for him to stay. But he had to be willing. So far she’d seen no sign of that. For him, the only solution to his pain was to move on, leaving Paige to grow up without him.
If nothing changed, once Jake worked off what he owed Dusty and got the bike licensed and running, he’d be loading his pack and heading for the horizon.
What would it take to keep him here, where he was needed?
* * *
Jake forced himself to work on the shed contents for the rest of the afternoon. But he did allow himself a few minutes to dust off the Indian and wheel it out front where he could admire it. It was a beautiful machine, long and powerful like a big cat, with a solid body and curving red fenders. The fact that it had belonged to a legendary Hollywood star only added to its glamour.
As a mechanical engineer, he knew his way around an engine. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure what wasn’t working. With luck it would be something simple, like the fuel pump or the starter. The next step would be to go online and look for vintage parts.
Once he’d located what he needed, he’d have to find a way to pay for it. But his veterans’ benefit payment should be in his bank account before long, and he had a check for a week’s wages, minus the first repayment to Dusty. Maybe Consuelo could deposit it on her next trip to town. Then he could use his debit card to order online. If the money wasn’t enough, he could always wait another week or two. Once he had the critical part in hand, the repair shouldn’t be too hard—unless there was some unforeseen problem. With any luck, his only remaining worry would be testing the engine without scaring Dusty’s horses.
“So this is what you were so excited about.” Kira had come outside. She stood a few feet away, her cool gray eyes appraising the bike. “It’s really something. I can picture Steve McQueen roaring down the roads on it, breaking all the speed limits.”
“I still can’t believe Dusty let me have it,” Jake said. “Did you know it was here?”
“I had no idea. It must’ve been left here before I was even born.” She brushed back a lock of her hair, a graceful gesture. “Consuelo wanted me to tell you that dinner’s almost ready.”
“Thanks. Tell her I’ll grab a sandwich later.” Jake lugged a heavy carton of old vinyl record albums to the “ask Dusty” pile. “I’m on a roll here. I’d like to get to a good stopping place before dark.”
“I’ll let her know.” Kira lingered, hesitating. “I have a request of my own. By the end of next week, the students should be riding their horses. After that, we’ll be taking some trail rides. I’ll need you along to help out.”
“Me? On a horse?”
“Yes.” She looked vaguely annoyed. “Unless you’d rather bring up the rear on foot, with a shovel.”
“I don’t know about that.” He was needling her, enjoying it. “Leading the critters around is one thing, but I didn’t sign up for getting on one.”
She made a little huffing sound. “You told me what happened to your father, Jake. But these horses are sweet old darlings. You know that. You’ve been working with them.”
“Sweet old darlings or not, they’re still horses. But you’re the boss. So tell me what you’ve got in mind.”
“You’ll need a head start on learning to ride so you can help the students. It’s a nice evening, plenty of moonlight. I was thinking, after dinner, while the group is watching Seabiscuit with D
usty, you and I could saddle up for an easy ride down the canyon.”