“I wish I could already ride,” she confessed. “Mom used to go for horseback rides with Dad when we lived back East, before he . . .” She swallowed. “But I didn’t go with them because I was afraid of horses. But the first time I saw Bartholomew, it was like, well, I don’t know what it was like.”
“Like falling in love,” Parker said, smiling at her.
“I guess. Something like that.” She cocked her head and looked up at him. “You ever been in love?”
He averted his eyes. “Once. A long time ago. I lost her.” He didn’t say how.
“Maybe you’ll find somebody else one day.”
He smiled sadly. “Not on my agenda. I like my life as it is. I have absolute control of the television remote and nobody to fuss when I don’t take out the trash on time.”
“Have you got pets?”
“Just Harry.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Harry?”
He pursed his lips. “You scared of snakes?”
She shivered a little. “Oh, yes.”
“Me, too.”
“Is Harry a snake?”
He smiled. “Harry’s an iguana,” he said. “He’s four years old and about five feet long.”
“Wow! What sort of cage do you keep him in?”
He pursed his lips. “Well, that’s sort of the reason I’m still single. See, he’s a little too big to keep in a cage. I just let him go where he wants to. His favorite spot is the back of my sofa. He watches TV with me at night.”
“An iguana who watches TV.” Teddie sighed.
“Well, Sarge has a wolf who watches it. Maybe animals understand more than we think they do, huh?”
She laughed. “I guess so. Could I see your iguana sometime?”
“Sure. I’ll invite you both over when we get a little further along with the repairs and your Horses 101 training.” He looked down at her. “Is your mom afraid of reptiles?”
“Oh, no. She’s not afraid of anything.”
“An interesting woman,” he mused as he turned back to the horse.
“That man’s coming out here next month,” Teddie said miserably. “For Thanksgiving, he said.”
“That man?” he asked, trying not to sound too interested.
“That lawyer who helped her settle Daddy’s business,” she explained. “He doesn’t like me. I really hope Mom doesn’t like him. He’s . . .” She searched for a word. “He’s smarmy.” She laughed. “I guess that’s not a good word.”
“It suits,” Parker replied. “It says a lot about a person. But are you sure it fits him? Sometimes people aren’t what you think they are at first. I hated Sarge’s guts until we were under fire and he saved my life.”
“Gosh!”
“Then I saved his, and we sort of became friends. So first impressions can be altogether wrong.”
She drew in a long breath. “That would be nice. But it’s not really a wrong impression. I heard him talking to another man, when Mom wasn’t listening.” She pulled a face. “He said that my daddy had lots of stocks that were going to be worth big money and that my mom wasn’t all that bad looking. He said if he could get close to her, and get control of those stocks, he’d be rich.”
Parker’s black eyes sparked. “What does he have in mind, you think?”
“I think he wants to marry her. She doesn’t like him. She told me so. But he thinks he can wear her down.” She drew in a breath and looked up at Parker with sad eyes. “If she marries him, can I come and live with you and Harry?”
He laughed softly. “Come on, now. You won’t have to do that. Your mom’s a sharp lady. She’s intelligent and kind and she has a sweet nature.”
Teddie’s eyes were widening. “You can tell all that, and you’ve only known us for a few days?”
He nodded. “I have feelings about people,” he tried to explain. “You know how horses respond to me? It’s like that, only I sense things that are hidden. My mother had the same ability. Nobody could cheat her. She saw right through confidence men.”
“Maybe you could talk to Mom, if that man comes out here?”
He chuckled. “I don’t mind other people’s business, sweet girl,” he said softly. “Life is hard enough without inviting trouble. But I’ll be around in case I’m needed. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
“Now. Let’s go over the diamond hitch again.”
She groaned.
“Might as well learn these things. You’ll need to know them in order to be able to ride.”
“There’s bridles, and all sorts of bits, and ways to cinch a horse, and what to do if he blows his belly out when you tighten it . . . I can’t remember all that!”
“You’ll learn it because we’ll go over and over it until the repetition keeps it in your mind,” he said. “Like muscle memory.”
“Dad talked about that,” Teddie recalled. “He said it saved his life once when he was overseas and he got jumped by three insurgents. He said he didn’t even think about what he needed to do, he just did it. He learned it when he was in boot camp.”
“That’s where all of us learned it,” Parker said complacently. He indicated the horse. “And that’s how you’ll learn what you need to know about how to take care of Bart and ride him: muscle memory.”
She laughed. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all anybody can do,” he replied warmly.
Chapter Three
Teddie was a quick study. She mastered the preparations for riding and was now learning how to get on a horse properly.
“There are all these programs that tell you to get on a stump or a stepladder so you don’t overburden the horse’s back. But you’re small enough that it won’t matter. Ready?”
She grimaced. She looked up to the pommel of the Western saddle she’d put on Bartholomew with Parker’s instructions. “It’s a long way up there,” she said doubtfully.
He laughed. “I guess it is, squirt. Okay. Lead him over here.”
Teddie led him to a stump near the porch, positioned Bart on one side of it, put her foot into the stirrup, and sprung up onto his back.
The horse moved restlessly, but Parker had the bridle. “It’s okay, old man,” he said softly, offering a treat on the palm of his hand.
Bart hesitated, but only for a moment before he took it. Parker smoothed over the blaze that ran down his forehead. “Good boy.” He glanced at Teddie, who looked nervous. “You have to be calm,” he instructed. “Horses, like dogs and cats, can sense when we’re unsettled. They respond to emotions, sometimes badly. Give him a minute to settle down. And whatever you do, don’t jerk the reins. Riding is mostly in your legs. Use your legs to tell him when to go, when to stop, which way to turn. The bridle gives you more control, but your legs are where your focus needs to be,” he said as he adjusted her stirrup length.
“I have little scrawny legs, though,” she said worriedly.
He smiled. “You’ll do fine.”
He had