“It’s a dumb-ass rule,” Mack said.
“You might think so,” Jake said. “But if you give up on this horse now, he’s won. You need to show him that the two of you can still be partners. Don’t worry about the bridle for now. Just put it aside. Pet him and talk to him until he calms down. Then try the bridle again.”
Kira watched Jake talk the boy through the process of calming the horse and putting on the bridle. Jake had learned a lot about horses from listening to Dusty, and he was a natural with the students. If she could talk him into staying, he could prove to be a real asset to the therapy program.
But getting Jake to stay would involve a lot more than just giving him a job. It would mean giving him a home and a family—and getting him to accept those things.
With time and patience, Mack was finally successful. Kira praised her students. She had them remove and stow the tack, then dismissed them for lunch. They were getting impatient to ride. But, as she reminded them, only after every one of them could saddle and bridle a horse without supervision would they be ready to mount up and take their first trail ride.
As the students scattered to get ready for lunch, Kira caught up with Jake outside the paddock fence. “You were terrific with Mack,” she said. “I was getting worried about him.”
“The kid just needed to back off and cool down,” Jake said. “I hope he learned a thing or two.”
Side by side, they started toward the house, walking slow enough to talk.
“You could stay and do this—manage the students and help them with the horses,” she said. “You’re good at it, Jake.”
“I thought I was just filling in for Dusty.”
“Dusty can still teach. But I don’t know when, if ever, he’ll be strong enough to take over the active work. If there’s nobody else to help, he’ll try. But he’s an old man. I don’t want him to push himself into another heart attack.”
“Are you offering me a job, Kira?” His dark eyes seemed to mock her.
“If you want it. We can negotiate your pay. You’re too valuable to be just a handyman.”
“Whoa!” He stopped her. “I never said yes. Besides, do you really want a part-time maniac working with your students? What happens if something gets to me and I take a dive off the deep end?”
She scuffed at the gravel with her boot. “I was hoping that your being here with Paige and working with the horses would help keep you calm.”
“It might. But what you saw last night was just the tip of the iceberg. When my nerves start misfiring, things can get ugly. I could tell you stories. . . .” His voice trailed off. He began to walk again. “I get the impression that your liability insurance is already high. What would happen if your insurer found out you’d hired a man who smashes chairs into TV screens?”
She sighed, keeping pace with him. “Will you at least give it some thought? You’ll be here awhile yet. We can see how it goes. Meanwhile, know that the offer still stands.”
“I
’ll keep it in mind. But no promises.” He turned away and walked off toward his cabin. Torn, Kira watched him go. Jake was a good man in so many ways. But he was right about his condition. He knew what he was capable of, and he knew the risks even better than she did.
She recalled his first morning here, when the sound of dynamite blasting had triggered a reaction. He had flung himself on top of her, protecting her with his life from what he perceived as a deadly danger.
How could she not trust him?
But how could she trust the safety of her students, her practice and the child she loved to a broken man—a man who fought a never-ending battle with the demons in his head?
And how could she trust the safety of her own heart?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
On that afternoon, Kira’s scheduled interview was with Mack. Good timing, she reflected as she waited in her office. After his morning frustration, they’d have a few things to talk about.
He walked in a few minutes later, a stocky blond boy with a round face and blue eyes that never quite made contact. Kira had met his parents. The father, who owned a Cadillac dealership in Scottsdale, was a pushy glad-handing man, a former football star at Arizona State. The mother was a petite woman with rigidly coiffed blond hair, designer clothes and redneck grammar. Kira made it a rule not to judge people, but after meeting them, she sympathized with their son.
“Sit down, Mack.” She opened a chilled Dr Pepper, which she knew he liked, and gave it to him. “I was proud of you this morning, the way you stuck with bridling Patches and didn’t give up until you got it done.”
“I wanted to quit,” he said. “But Jake wouldn’t let me. Besides, I knew the other kids would be mad if I didn’t finish. That’s a dumb-ass rule, that we can’t ride till everybody can saddle and bridle a horse. They all hate me because I’m slowing them down.”
“Nobody hates you, Mack.”
“Yes, they do. They all hate me. Even that stupid horse.”