Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

Kira sighed. She needed to spend more time with this much-loved little girl. Consuelo kept an eye on her while Kira was working, but she was too busy with kitchen and housekeeping duties to do much more than make sure Paige was safe. Dusty adored his small great-granddaughter, but he couldn’t be expected to dress and feed her, or take her where she wanted to go. And Kira had a strict rule against letting her students babysit. It wasn’t the best use of their time, and, more important, given their issues, it might not be safe for Paige.

“Where have you been, Aunt Kira?” Paige held still so Kira could tie her sneakers.

“Just out for a morning ride. I needed some quiet time.”

“Maybe you could take me with you next time. I could sit on the horse with you and hold on tight. If you wanted quiet, I wouldn’t make a sound.”

“Oh, honey . . .” Kira finger-combed Paige’s hair and fixed the ponytail. The flowered top and striped Jeggings would have to do for the day. At least they were clean. “I’ll take you riding one of these days, maybe after the students go. But hey, tomorrow we’ll be going into town for the day, to see the fiesta and the old mission and have tacos for lunch. You get to come along.”

Her small face lit. “Is Mister Jake coming with us?”

“Not this time.” Kira had sensed that the question would come up. By now, Dusty was well enough to make the trip as long as Kira drove the vehicle. The old man had been eager to go, which meant that Jake could be left behind—less awkward for him, for her and for Paige.

“But I want Mister Jake to come. I won’t bother him, I promise.”

“Somebody has to stay here and take care of the ranch. Besides, your grandpa will be going. You can hang out with him. Okay?”

Paige sighed, looking down at her feet. “Okay.”

“Fine.” Kira took her hand. “Let’s go wash up and get some breakfast.”

“Aunt Kira?” Paige paused at the door. “Why doesn’t Mister Jake ever shave? I think he’d look nice without a beard.”

Kira’s pulse stumbled. Did Jake’s daughter suspect the truth? “Maybe Mister Jake likes the beard,” she said. “Besides, those short, scruffy beards are in style these days. A lot of movie stars have them.”

“Do you think he’d shave it off if I asked him to?” Paige persisted.

“I don’t know. But you’re not going to ask him because you promised not to bother him.”

“Are you mad at me, Aunt Kira? You sound like it.” Paige’s dark eyes were as innocent as a puppy’s.

Kira bent and hugged her. “I could never be mad at you. But you must promise that you won’t bother Mister Jake about his beard.”

“All right, I won’t bother him. But I still think he’d look nicer if he shaved.” She sighed as Kira ushered her into the house.

Paige was an intuitive child. Raised among adults, she was more aware of things going on around her than most people realized. How much longer, Kira wondered, could she be protected from the truth about Jake? Was her question about his beard a sign that she was already watching him, wondering whether he was hiding something?

Maybe it would be wise to tell her the truth before she guessed it on her own. But that decision wasn’t Kira’s to make. It was Jake’s, and she knew he wasn’t ready.

She owed it to Jake to warn him that his daughter might be getting suspicious. What happened next would be up to him. She hoped he wouldn’t just shoulder his pack and leave. But Kira was learning that Jake was his own man; there were many things she couldn’t control.

* * *

After the emotional start to Kira’s day, the rest of the morning had its own ups and downs. From the beginning, Kira had told her students that they would move ahead together or not at all. Today, as they practiced saddling and bridling their horses in the paddock, she noticed them assisting each other—Calvin helping Faith untangle her bridle, Brandon helping Lanie lift the heavy saddle onto her horse, Heather checking Patrick’s cinch. This was an important part of the program, working together for the good of the group. It pleased her to see how well the youngsters were learning their lessons.

Only Mack still seemed to be having problems. The husky fifteen-year-old, who’d come here with anger issues, had chosen a docile paint gelding named Patches. A few days ago, when Patches had misunderstood a command, Mack had yanked hard at the lead rope and yelled curses at the horse. Unaccustomed to such behavior, Patches had become wary of the boy.

Today, as Mack tried to get the bit into the horse’s mouth, Patches was having none of it. The brown-and-white gelding was snorting and jerking away, and Mack was becoming more and more frustrated. To make matters worse, none of the other students had offered to help. Mack was the person nobody wanted to work with.

Kira could sense the boy’s anger building. Much more of this, and he was liable to punch the horse or pick a fight with one of the other students—either of which could get him sent home.

She was about to intervene and suggest a break, but Jake, who was there to help supervise, stepped between the boy and the horse.

“Whoa, there,” he said. “Look, Mack, this horse is scared of you. Back off for a minute or two. Give yourself and Patches some breathing space. Then try to show him that you’re his friend.”

Mack backed away a few steps, but his face was flushed, his breathing agitated. “That horse hates me,” he said. “I want a different one.”

“Horses don’t hate,” Jake said. “And you stay with the horse you chose, that’s the rule.”