Читать книгу Killer's Prey - Rachel Lee - Страница 12

Chapter 2

Nora awoke with a start in the morning. Confusion filled her momentarily as it often did now that her nights were plagued with nightmares about the attack and the threats to repeat it. Then she recognized the drab, faded curtains on the window, saw the thin slices of a gray morning slipping by them, and knew.

She was at home, at her father’s house. Once the worst place in the world to be, and now only the second-worst place. That didn’t say much for it.

She didn’t want to get up, but she rarely did any longer. She felt tired, lacked energy, lacked the desire to do anything anymore. Depression. Pills for it stood on her nightstand, and she took them only because the alternative was worse. But she had a reason to feel depressed, and she wondered if pills could really help that.

The sheets on her old bed smelled musty enough that she suspected her father hadn’t washed them. They probably hadn’t been washed since the last time she’d been here, for her mother’s funeral. It wouldn’t surprise her.

She listened, hoping it was late enough that her dad would have gone to work. She had nothing to say to him, and he had nothing to say to her. Not anymore.

Unfortunately, the late-night coffee, little as she had drunk of it, insisted she get up anyway. Pulling on her robe and slippers, she left her room and padded to the ancient bathroom off the kitchen. It hadn’t changed. Not one bit. Except maybe the tile had been regrouted. She couldn’t be sure.

A glance at the clock when she emerged told her she was safe, at least for now. It was ten after nine, and her father was surely behind the pharmacy counter now.

It was at once a relief and a disappointment. Being alone with her own thoughts was a bad place for her these days. Too much pain, too much despair, too much anger and no answers in sight.

She reheated some of the coffee that was left in the pot on the stove and sat at the ancient table, cradling the mug, annoyed that her dad hadn’t even remembered that she liked half-and-half.

But that was him. Fred Loftis, penny-pincher extraordinaire. From the way they had always lived, no one would guess he was as successful as any businessman in town. Hand-me-down clothes for Nora, all of them chosen from church rummage sales where he’d allowed the purchase of only the ugliest of them. How much fun it had been to always be the girl in school who looked like a ragamuffin from the Great Depression—or an old lady oddly cased in a young girl’s body.

A twisted young girl’s body. The years of wearing that damn hideous brace for scoliosis hadn’t helped, nor had it helped that when she’d needed eyeglasses he’d always insisted on the cheapest frames. Not one bit of fashion in her life. He’d carped about the cost of them, too, and about the cost of the scoliosis brace and the doctors, but he hadn’t been able to get out of that without gaining the disapproval of the town.

If there was one thing her dad really cared about it, it was his public reputation. He was a God-fearing, righteous nineteenth-century man, whose frequent discourses on sin and vanity in the small church where he was a deacon had managed to convince everyone in town that dressing his wife and daughter in modest, ugly clothes had made sense—given his beliefs.

But that was the thing about small towns. They made room for every kind of eccentric short of the criminal. Their kids, however, were far less tolerant.

Nora squeezed her eyes shut. She had enough to deal with in the here and now, she didn’t need to be wandering to the distant past. Of course, being with her father wasn’t helping that part one bit. She wondered if she had enough left in her savings to find a small place to rent.

But then the fear clamped her so hard she could barely breathe. After that man had attacked her, after his hideous whispered threats on the phone, she couldn’t stand being alone. Even here, in this house that echoed with the past and seemed so far removed from the life she had been building in Minneapolis.

They’d put one of those electronic bracelets on him after the threatening calls. He could only leave his yard to go to work. That should keep him confined, shouldn’t it? Although even her own lawyer couldn’t explain why they hadn’t just jailed him pending trial. Not to her satisfaction, at any rate.

But she was a thousand or more miles away right now, and if he strayed so much as a hundred feet the cops would be all over him. So said that lawyer. But after his threats, it was hard to believe. The guy was crazy. Clearly. He’d had no good reason to attack her in the first place. How could she believe he wouldn’t do something crazy again?

She realized her fingers ached from gripping the coffee mug, and as she crashed back into the present she had to face the fact that her day was empty. Empty hours scared her because they gave her too much time to think.

But how could it possibly have been any better locked up in her old apartment in Minneapolis with that man in the same town?

No, that would have been worse. She needed to find a job, that’s what she needed. If only she felt stronger, and looked stronger. Right now she doubted anyone would want to hire the scarecrow she had become.

Even though her appetite had never come back, she forced herself to look in the refrigerator for something to eat. She was supposed to eat six times a day. Small meals, but six a day until she started to feel hungry again.

Nothing looked good. Nothing. She finally grabbed a package of cinnamon rolls, her father’s one weakness, and cut one roll in half, leaving the other half in the package. If she could get this down, she’d be doing good.

Then maybe she would have the energy to take a walk, something else she was supposed to do every day to recover her strength. Hemmed in by orders, all for her own good, she had to force herself to obey them. She’d have preferred to find a dark corner and curl up.

Except... Well, that wouldn’t be good, either. In a dark corner she’d be even more alone with her thoughts and memories.

Trapped. As surely as a lab rat in a cage, she felt trapped, and she didn’t know how to break out.

She felt a weak sense of triumph when she swallowed the last of the roll. Thank goodness the coffee washed it down or it might have stuck. Going to her bedroom, she found some jeans, a flannel shirt and her walking shoes. She had just pulled her jacket off the peg by the door when the phone rang.

She hesitated. She knew who it had to be. But with a sigh, she answered it.

“Get down here, girl. I could use someone on the register for a few hours.”

Wasn’t that just like her father. Get down there and get to work, just as he had demanded of her in high school. And somehow those words released a surprising and unexpected burst of resistance.

“No. I have to go for my walk. The doctor said.”

Then she hung up and experienced a sense of satisfaction, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

The phone rang again, but she ignored it. She slipped her jacket on, grabbed the spare key and left the house.

Winter tinged the air. Although there was no snow, nor any sign of it, she could almost smell it coming. Some aroma in the air had changed, something she had never been able to pinpoint, but she could always tell. Conard County was slipping quickly into winter.

And then what? she wondered dismally. Living with her father was apt to drive her even more nuts than it had before after so many years of ordering her own life. He wouldn’t allow her that independence. He’d feel that since he was supporting her she owed it to him to follow his rules in every respect, from how she dressed to working for him and doing chores for him. He wouldn’t give her an ounce of independence. He never had.

He’d claim she owed everything to him. One of the biggest and most momentous decisions of her life had been to go to college on her own. Paying every penny for it herself. Building a life as far away from here as she could get.

Getting contact lenses. Learning to wear more attractive clothing. Finding confidence first through her school achievements and then through her job performance. Then one sicko had come along for reasons known only to him and had stripped all of it away, including her job. Because notoriety had made the school system ask her to quit, with the excuse that parents had questions about her.

Well, why wouldn’t they have when the police had had so many? She wasn’t sure who had wounded her more, her attacker or the damn cops and their doubts.

Or the school administration that had refused to stand by her after her years of excellent work for them. They had promised her a stellar recommendation.

Although she could understand the school, she thought as she walked slowly down the hill toward the more level part of town. Parents were talking, afraid of what their children might hear. The guy might be crazy enough to come after her again. What if he came after her at the school? And besides, she was honestly in no condition to counsel anyone. She couldn’t even counsel herself right now.

In fact, she was in no condition to work at much. Still, it had hurt, but how many months of disability would the school be looking at? How many months before she was capable of providing adequate counseling? How many months before the parents stopped worrying?

And how many months before the trial, while it would never quite fall from the news or people’s minds? Followed by the resumption of her notoriety.

Hell, she couldn’t really blame the school for all of this. Her severance pay sat in the bank, not enough for anything long-term, her disability checks would continue just a few more weeks, but now that she had resigned, they would dry up. Bills continued to roll in, like her credit card and her student loans. It might be months yet before her victim compensation was approved.

She heard the growl of an engine behind her again and didn’t even need to look to guess who it was. Jake. Why the hell couldn’t he just leave her alone? Seeing him was like picking the scab on a wound that refused to heal.

It was Jake, all right. She didn’t even turn to look as he drew up alongside her and slowed down to pace her.

“Wanna go horseback riding?”

That stopped her in her tracks. Slowly she turned and saw that today he was in his tan Jeep. “Riding?” she repeated. Her mind couldn’t quite make the leap.

“Riding,” he said. “I know you used to love horses. Well, I’ve got a couple that could use a walk today. Why don’t you join me? We’ll go out to the ranch and ride.”

“Are you out of your mind?” The words came out sharply.

He cocked his head, still motoring beside her. “Actually, no. Wandering the streets here in town will bore you pretty fast. Being all alone is probably even worse. I’d like the company.”

She really did love horses. Surprised that he even remembered that about her held her rooted. Not that she’d had a whole lot of opportunity to ride in the past, but a couple of times...

The decision was made almost before she knew it. “I’m not dressed right.”

“Jeans are fine. My mom’s boots will probably fit you, well enough to ride anyway. Come on. Let’s blow this town before we grow cobwebs.”

She doubted he could grow a cobweb if he tried, but she well might. Without another word, wondering if her mind had taken a final break from reality, signaling her total descent into madness, she climbed into the car beside him.

This car was okay. It smelled like leather, like hay and like Jake. And he no longer smelled like the guy who’d hurt her so long ago. His scents had grown more subtle, and they weren’t swimming in cologne these days.

“I used to hate that cologne you wore,” she announced. God, had she forgotten the last of her civility?

“Beth gave me a bottle every birthday and Christmas. I should have taken the hint.”

“Hint?”

“That I wasn’t okay just the way I was.”

That jarred her out of her self-preoccupation. “I’m sorry,” she said because she didn’t know what else to say.

“I was, too, for a while. Then it struck me I’d been a fool in more ways than one. At least we didn’t have kids.”

There seemed to be no answer to that, either. But he didn’t seem to expect one.

“I’m still wondering,” he continued, “why she married me. She sure as hell didn’t like ranch life. In the end she didn’t much like me, either.”

Nora, older and more educated now, knew something about that. Jake had been the best looking and one of the most popular guys in school. Dating him was a feather in the cap. Marrying him, maybe not so much. But she didn’t say that. She’d been one of the drooling girls herself. Back then.

Jake at least left her recent past alone. He didn’t ask any questions or offer any useless sympathy. He talked occasionally about the ranch, about the new police department, giving her a sense of what he was about these days. Casual, safe conversation for the most part.

At least she wasn’t thinking about herself. She tried to think of something to say and finally offered, “I really don’t get why they wanted a police department. Wasn’t the sheriff doing okay?”

“Of course he was. But he’s an elected official and doesn’t answer to anyone except the voters. Me, I answer to the city council.”

“That must be a lot of fun.”

“Oh, yeah.” He sounded sarcastic.

“So why did you agree?”

“Like I said, better pay. And by agreeing, we were able to open up five new jobs. We may even add a few more come spring. If so, that’s good.”

“Are you very busy?”

“Busy enough. Drunk and disorderly, speeding, domestics. Mostly small-town stuff, which is fine. If I wanted to deal with the big-city stuff, I’d move.”

“But the ranch isn’t doing well?”

He seemed to shrug. “It’s getting by, but a little extra cash is welcome. The money isn’t in cattle anymore, so I’m thinking about raising something else. I’ve been cutting back my herd size steadily. Something is going to have to replace it. We’ve been talking about it at the Grange, trying to figure out how to adapt. Feed prices are skyrocketing, so we don’t get what we used to when we take the steers to market.”

“Biofuels?” she asked.

“Partly. And commodity traders. Single-family operations are heading the way of the dodo. So we’re thinking about forming some kind of co-op and getting into something else.”

“That’s sad, about family operations.”

“Things change. Times change. The key is to keep up.”

She supposed it was. Right now, though, she wasn’t ready to apply that theory to her own life. She had to find some kind of acceptance before she could move on. Some way to absorb all the blows and knit them into a whole person, not the remnants of one.

She thought about his comment about the police force being a kind of power grab by the city council and realized it almost managed to amuse her to think that he was right. As she recalled, the council had been nearly a nonentity when she grew up here. Basically they had taxed and licensed businesses and put up some cheesy Christmas decorations on the light posts. Had they ever done anything else? Not that she was aware of. So, yes, they’d probably feel a whole lot more important running a police force, however indirectly.

But thinking about that reminded her that she was riding in a car with a chief of police. She wanted to yank her thoughts away from that as a wave of darkness threatened to descend over her once again. Instead, she forced herself to reach for a semblance of normalcy.

“So people in town call you now instead of the sheriff?”

He chuckled quietly. “It doesn’t make much difference to them. We share a switchboard. Whoever happens to have the closest car responds. Mostly that’s the sheriff. I’ve only got six of us, me included. That’s nowhere near enough for round-the-clock coverage, assuming the officers get time to sleep, eat and see their families.”

He swung the car onto a narrow road that led to his ranch. “You could say we cooperate fully. The difference is I have no jurisdiction outside the city limits. The sheriff continues to have jurisdiction in town. Like I said, I feel we’re more of an auxiliary.”

“Would have made more sense to hire more deputies with that money.”

“I won’t disagree.”

Yet he was doing this anyway. More money, he’d said. It troubled her to think of that when she remembered the days when that hadn’t been a huge concern for his ranch.

All of a sudden, panic struck her. No matter where she looked, she saw nothing but fences. Like when she’d staggered out of that ditch in the dead of night far outside Minneapolis. Nothing. There was nothing out here, and she was alone in a car with a man....

“Take me home!”

The panic in her voice must have been unmistakable. He jammed on the brakes, pulling to the grassy shoulder, and rammed the car into Park. “Nora?”

Her heart hammered so hard that she could hardly hear him. She was panting like a runner at the end of a long sprint. Her mouth turned as dry as cotton, her palms gripped the armrest, slippery with sudden dampness.

“Nora?”

She tried to grab on to his voice as the world seemed to shift dizzyingly from then to now and back again. “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

She wanted to get out of that car, but a vast wasteland was all that lay out there, offering no safety, no help.

“Nora, can you look at me? Please?”

She knew that voice. Jake. Somehow she managed to turn her head one jerk at a time toward him. He had turned in his seat, one arm on the steering wheel, one on the back of his seat. He had moved as far away as he could get in the confines of the car. Giving her room. His posture unthreatening.

“Jake,” she croaked.

“Yes, Jake,” he said quietly. “I’m Jake. You’re safe with me. I won’t touch you. If you want to go home, I’ll take you right now.”

Home. The image of her father’s house, the emptiness inside it, made her shudder. Being alone wasn’t good. It was never good. “No,” she said finally, a mere whisper. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“Will you be all right? It’s only another mile or so to my place.”

She looked down at her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Sometimes...I remember.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He turned and put the car into Drive, resuming the trip. With each turn of the tires on pavement, her heart slowed down. Her mouth moistened again, and the tension seeped out of her.

She forced herself to think about riding a horse, something she hadn’t done since she’d left here. One of those promises she had made herself, that she’d find a Saturday and some money and go to a stable for a few hours, but had somehow never gotten around to.

As the panic slipped away, a sense of anticipation tried to replace it. Closing her eyes, she recalled the marvelous scents of stables and horses and leather. After all these years, they remained as vivid as just a few minutes ago.

The car turned and she opened her eyes to see the ranch house ahead of her. It looked like a haven—gleaming white clapboard in the bright autumn sunlight, a well-kept barn not far beyond and a paddock where a half dozen horses grazed.

“It hasn’t changed much,” he remarked.

No, it hadn’t. She’d been out here once before, for a hayride with a youth group. Once had been enough for her, but surprisingly she suddenly remembered how Jake had silenced the few who wanted to know why Nora had been invited. At least after that they’d left her alone.

For the first time in many, many years, she felt some warmth toward him.

He came around to open her door for her but didn’t offer a hand, as if he guessed that was too soon. She felt better with her feet on solid ground and looked around, taking in details—from the flowerpots that lined the wide porch, filled now with dying plants that struggled to hang on to just a little green, to the wooden porch swing.

The door opened and a matronly women with pitch-black hair streaked with gray stepped out, wiping her hands on a bib apron. A wide, warm smile creased her face.

“Nora, this is Rosa Gonzales. She and her husband, Al, work for me.”

Rosa came down the steps, her smile fading slightly. She offered her hand, then changed her mind and touched Nora’s shoulder. “You come inside. I have lots of food for lunch, and we can eat a little early.”

Nora didn’t argue, even though the horses drew her gaze again. Six meals a day was a pain, but an order not to be ignored. Right then she’d be more comfortable with a woman around anyway.

The inside of the house hadn’t changed much, either, from what she remembered, but it had been well maintained.

Rosa insisted they use the dining room, over Jake’s good-natured objections that the kitchen table would be fine.

“Not the first time you bring a lady here,” Rosa said firmly.

Sitting at the big polished table, with Jake at its head and her to his right, felt strange to Nora. As far as it would be possible to get from her past experience.

More, Rosa insisted on serving them plates loaded with saffron-flavored rice and pulled pork.

“She’s really putting on the dog for you,” Jake remarked. “She usually doesn’t object to Al and me standing in the kitchen in our work gear eating from the counter.”

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Nora felt herself smile. It was hard not to, since Jake looked uncomfortable with this development. “Just tell me she doesn’t call you patrón.”

At that, a laugh sparkled in his green eyes. “Hell, no. She calls me Jake. Or other things, depending on my latest transgression.”

The rice was perfectly spiced, the best thing she had tasted in forever. The pork was so tender it practically melted in her mouth. “What transgressions?”

“Forgetting to take my boots off when I’ve been in the yard. I have a tendency to think floors are for walking on, but she seems to think we should be able to eat off them.”

“She sounds like a gem.”

“She and Al both are. I’d be lost without them.”

“Where do they live?”

“I don’t know if you ever saw the bunkhouse out back? Well, we fixed it up for them. Their bad luck turned into my good luck.”

“Really?”

“They were homeless and out of work. I needed help. They didn’t even want to be paid, but I won that battle. I think it’s the last battle I won with Rosa.”

And that probably explained his need to make extra cash as chief of police. She stared at her plate, surprised by how much she was eating, reevaluating Jake. At least a bit. And wondering if she should eat any more than she had. She didn’t trust her stomach to hold it down, not when she’d been eating so little for so long.

What the heck, she thought, feeling suddenly reckless. It tasted good. If she got sick... Well, she’d already freaked on Jake. If he could handle that, he could handle her getting sick.

She ate slowly, though, taking only tiny bits onto her fork, awaiting any warning sign that she was making a mistake.

Finally she had to put her fork down and look sorrowfully at the plate, which was nearly three-quarters full. Jake had cleaned his plate and sat back.

“Want to go meet the horses now?”

At least he didn’t try to encourage her to eat more. Her friends back in Minneapolis had driven her nearly crazy by urging her to eat just one more mouthful.

“Yes,” she said promptly and rose. When she reached for her plate, Jake stopped her. “Don’t offend Rosa.”

Offend her by clearing the table? Nora found it hard to imagine, but Jake would know.

Jake grabbed a pair of leather cowboy boots from the hall closet. “Put these on.”

So she eased out of her running shoes and shoved her feet into the boots. They were an almost perfect fit, finely tooled leather. “Your mom didn’t wear these out in the yard,” she protested.

“Actually, she did. She reserved Wellingtons for mucking out the stalls.”

So many things she didn’t know about ranch life. At the moment, though, that didn’t seem terribly important. As they passed through the kitchen, she thanked Rosa for a wonderful meal. The woman beamed at her. “There’s more. You eat some later, okay?”

“Okay,” Nora agreed, not sure whether she’d be around later or back at home with her father. As soon as they stepped outside, she was grateful for the jacket she’d worn through so many Minnesota winters. It seemed to have grown a lot colder in just the short time they’d been eating.

She half expected to meet Al when they went out to the paddock, especially when she saw that a horse had been saddled. He was nowhere to be seen, however.

“I want you to try riding on a lead at first,” Jake said. “I don’t know how strong you are.”

“Not very,” she admitted. And the closer she got, the bigger the horses looked. How could she have forgotten that part? “Maybe I shouldn’t do this.”

“You can try it. Daisy over here is as gentle as they come. She won’t give you any trouble, and if you start to feel tired, just say the word.”

“Daisy? Really?”

“Mom liked to name the mares after flowers. Dad drew the line at Begonia.”

An unexpected laugh escaped Nora and she felt her spirits beginning to rise. The nightmare seemed so far away right now; it was a beautiful day, and the scents of the horses called to her as they always had.

“Where are your parents now?”

“Can you believe they turned into traitors and moved to Florida? To a condo?”

That drew another small laugh from her. “Less work,” she suggested.

“And warmer. Plus, according to my dad, he gets to play golf all year. Mom swears she can’t get him out of the house in the summer to play, but he denies it.”

Jake climbed the paddock fence, pulling a long leather lead from where it was wound around a fence pole. He clucked quietly, and called, “Daisy... Here, girl.”

To Nora’s surprise, the saddled horse, a spotted gray with huge, soft brown eyes, responded promptly. The mare stood patiently while Jake clipped the lead to her halter.

Then he turned back to her. “Now comes the hard part. I doubt you’re strong enough to mount by yourself.”

She eyed the distance between the ground and stirrup and shook her head slowly. “I could try.”

“Or you can just sit on the top of the fence and I can help you. But I’ll have to touch you to do that, Nora. Will that be okay?”

He probably hadn’t imagined that difficulty when he invited her out here. But then neither had she. She closed her eyes a moment, waging an internal struggle. This was Jake, not him.

When she opened her eyes, Jake still waited patiently. “I want to try.” It was important in ways she felt deep inside but couldn’t have named. She knew a lot about psychology, but it didn’t seem to be applying to her own mess.

Determined, she climbed the fence rails and managed to reach the top one, legs inside the paddock, steadying herself. The effort left her feeling weak, and she hated it. Hated the weakness, the slowness of her recovery. She was breathing a little hard, too, and her heart was racing, although she wasn’t sure it was just from exertion.

“Give yourself a minute,” Jake said. He led Daisy closer and began to rub her neck. “Have you ever seen horses nuzzle each other, the way they wrap necks and rub?”

“In pictures or on TV, maybe.”

“They’re very social animals. But they have this spot right here where they nuzzle each other.” He patted and rubbed. “Someone finally got around to studying it. It’s like petting a dog or a cat. It calms them down, lowers their blood pressure, eases their stress. Wanna try?”

Daisy didn’t look stressed to Nora’s untutored eyes, but she wanted to touch the mare anyway. Jake eased her even closer so that Nora could reach out and pat the horse’s neck right where he’d showed her to. Daisy quivered slightly under her touch, then relaxed. The horsehair wasn’t soft like a dog’s or a cat’s; it was much tougher and more bristly. But it still felt good, and at the moment she suspected that petting Daisy was calming her at least as much as the horse.

She began to relax, felt her fears disappearing. “I could do this forever.”

“She’d almost let you, believe me. Unfortunately, like most of her kind, she needs to graze and move, so she doesn’t stand perfectly still for long. Ready?”

“I think so.” Although she still couldn’t imagine how they were going to do this.

But Daisy was now close enough that her side nearly brushed Nora’s knees.

“I’m going to guide your foot into the stirrup,” Jake said. Apparently to try to avoid surprising her by reaching out. The man figured out things quickly.

He told her each thing he was going to do before he did it. As soon as her foot was settled safely in the stirrup, he told her to grab the pommel and try to rise. “Let me know if you need a boost.”

She summoned every bit of strength and determination she had, and not only managed to stand in the stirrup but also to swing her leg over Daisy’s wide back. She had forgotten how wide a horse could be.

“Good job!” Jake said approvingly. Moving around to the other side, he guided her right foot into the stirrup.

“I’m going to shorten them up just a bit.”

She hardly noticed. She was astride a horse for the first time in so many years, and it felt wonderful. Daisy, bless her, didn’t even twitch. Well, her ear twitched, and Nora leaned forward to pat her neck in that important spot.

“All set?” Jake asked when he’d finished adjusting the stirrups.

“Oh, yes!”

“I’m going to take it very slow here,” he advised her. “Just relax and let your body move with her. You’ll find your balance quickly. Keep your weight in the stirrups as much as you can.”

It was the kind of horse ride a child would have gotten at a fair, but Nora didn’t mind at all. Jake kept Daisy on a very short lead, and they ambled their way around the outer edge of the paddock. Every now and then one of the other horses would look up from the scattered hay they were dining on, give it all a disinterested look then lower their heads again.

“If you get tired, let me know.”

“I will.” But what she felt like doing for the first time since the attack was throwing her arms up and shouting for sheer joy. The world looked different up here, and the power of the mare beneath her gave her an unexpected sense of her own power and strength.

“This is wonderful!” She spoke with an exuberance she had doubted she would ever feel again.

“It is, isn’t it?” Jake agreed. “I love riding. As you get stronger, we’ll take longer ones.”

“This must be boring for you.”

“Not at all.” He looked over his shoulder, smiling. “Just seeing you look like you do right now would make me do a whole lot of things a lot more boring than walking around the paddock.”

The statement startled her. What did he mean by that? Probably exactly what he said. She’d certainly been a drag since he’d picked her up at the airport. It must be a relief to see her smiling. Having dealt with many depressed people in her career, she knew how hard it was when nothing you did could make someone feel better.

She resolved to try to at least put a better face on things. And why not? She was away from that man—whose name she could never bring herself to think, let alone say—in a safe place in a town that looked after its own. She was mending, however slowly, and with time even the emotional and psychological damage would heal. Some things left permanent scars, but it was possible to deal with those scars and not let them rule your life. She, of all people, should know that.

It was time, she thought as Daisy carried her around the paddock for the second time, to live in the now, not yesterday, not last month.

Easier said than done, of course, but most things were. She tipped her head back, letting the sun wash her face with its tingly warmth, feeling the chilly air whisper over her skin, listening to the steady clop of Daisy’s hooves and the quiet sound of Jake’s boots.

It was a magical moment, and that man’s madness had no right to deprive her of enjoying whatever good came her way.

Jake spoke, drawing her out of her almost defiant reverie. “Try clamping your thighs against Daisy’s sides. To build up muscle for longer rides.”

God, he was acting like a physical therapist, something she’d had to give up when she lost her job. She obeyed, though, pressing until the muscles began to tremble, then letting go until they settled down. Over and over again.

Then, as if someone had just let the air out of a balloon, weakness and fatigue hit her. She began to shake, and even pressing into the stirrups became too much.

“Jake...”

They stopped instantly. He took one look at her. “I’m going to help you down. Can you handle that? I’m going to reach for your waist as soon as I get your feet free of the stirrups.”

She nodded. Either she let him help, or she was going to slide off.

Daisy stood stock-still, thank goodness. He freed her right foot, then hurried around to release her left foot. Then, something she would have been sure she could never tolerate again happened—he reached up, clamped her waist with strong hands and pulled her out of the saddle.

When her feet hit the ground, she could barely stand. He didn’t release her, he released Daisy. Wrapping a powerful arm snugly around her waist, he nearly carried her to the gate. No climbing the railing this time.

“Al?”

She saw a man emerge from the barn. Tall and almost painfully lean with dark hair that looked as if it had been dusted with powdered sugar, he answered, “Yeah?”

“Take care of Daisy, will you?”

Then Jake focused all his attention on Nora. “Let’s get you inside, get you a warm drink.”

It embarrassed her to be so weak. To be so completely lacking in stamina. She wanted to hide in a hole. And sometimes she wished she had just died.