LITMIR.BIZ

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pace away from her, Jericho rose to his feet, his masculine frame outlined by the light flooding from the house.

      She crossed her arms. “I can pay you back.”

      He stepped closer. “I promised to protect you, remember? I made that pact, and I aim to keep it for the rest of my life. You owe me nothing.”

      She bit her lip.

      He tipped his hat. “Sleep tight, Ali.” Then he brushed past her and strolled, hands hooked in his pockets, into the hay field back toward his pa’s place.

      * * *

      Sweat trickled down Ali’s neck as she lugged the last saddle onto its peg in the barn. The triangular posts drilled into the wall were genius. Much better than tipping the saddles on their sides and storing them on the ground like they had been doing. She made a mental note to thank Rider.

      Ali placed her hands on her hips as her mind ticked over the accounting books for Big Sky Dreams. She’d never been great at balancing the ledgers, but even Ali could see that money was missing. But how?

      Megan Galveen, the other riding instructor for Big Sky Dreams, sashayed through the back door in black designer jeans.

      Ali smiled at her. “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks for taking care of Salsa when he started misbehaving. I don’t know what made the horse so skittish today. I know you’ve only been here a month, but have I told you how thankful I am for your help?”

      Megan pouted her full, over-red lips and closed one eye, tapping her sunglasses to her chin. “Oh, only about every day. But please, do go on.”

      Ali laughed. “Well, enjoy your afternoon off. You know you’re welcome at Chance’s birthday party, right?”

      Her coworker flipped her long, glossy black hair. “A party for seven-year-olds isn’t really my thing.”

      “No, I guess not.”

      Why had Ali even asked her? The woman was more suited in looks to walk down runways than teach handicapped kids about horses.

      Ali glanced down at her own mud-caked boots and dirty jeans. She grimaced. Maybe she ought to spend more time on her looks. She ran a hand over her flipped-out, short red hair. Yeah, right. She worked in hay and horse manure all day, and the only kisses bestowed on her came complete with animal cracker crumbs.

      Someone cleared their throat, interrupting Ali’s train of thought. She looked up to find her head ranch hand, Rider Longley. The man looked like his name—taller than he ought to be and scrawnier than a cornstalk. With his junked-up Levis, scuffed boots, a blue shirt with white buttons and a new brown hat, he looked the part. But he would have been just as comfortable in a cubicle, wearing khakis while programming laptops. He lacked the cowboy snarl in his face, but he made up for his failings with heart and determination.

      He looped a rope over his shoulder. “Someone’s been out messing with the fences in the heifer field again. I figure it’ll take most of the day to round them up off Edgar’s property and mend the cuts.”

      Ali’s heart stopped. “What do you mean, messing with the fences?”

      Rider adjusted his hat. “I’m not an expert on these sorts of things, but how the slices are, looks to me like someone snipped through our fences with wire cutters. Cows can cause damage, but not clean breaks like I’m finding.”

      “That’s ridiculous.” Megan plunked down her suitcase-sized purse and pawed inside until she fished out her lip gloss. “Who would want to mess with Big Sky Dreams?”

      “Dunno.” He shrugged. “I’m not a detective. Just know what I see.”

      * * *

      Pulling off her hat, Ali swiped a hand over her forehead. Now that Rider and Megan were gone, her thoughts swirled. The threatening note, slashed tires, money missing from the Big Sky Dreams account and now the fences—what was she going to do?

      “I brought this for you.” Kate came beside her, handing over a chilled water bottle.

      Ali held the bottle to her neck, then to her cheek. “Feels good. It’s really a scorcher out here today. I hope the old air conditioner in the house holds together for Chance’s party.”

      “It’ll be fine. If it busts again, those kids won’t care.”

      Ali stepped forward so she stood in the barn entrance. The wind ruffled through the valley, kicking up the smell of the nearby river and drying the sweat from her body.

      “How’d lessons go today?”

      She unscrewed the bottle cap and took a long swig, catching dribbles on her chin with the back of her hand. Ali loved nothing more than talking about her handicapped horseback-riding program. “Good. Alan’s coming along great. The movement’s strengthening his core and helping build some muscle tone.” It felt good to know that something she’d started made a difference. “Rebecca’s parents told me that her test scores have improved since joining the program last month. Can you believe that?”

      Kate squeezed her arm. “That’s awesome, Al. How about those two?” She jutted her chin toward the sprawling side yard, near the practice corral where Ali usually ran her horse, Denny, through the barrels. Today two boys practiced their cattle roping. Ali gripped the barn wall. Well, if the broad shoulders and popping biceps of Jericho Freed could be classified as a boy. Okay. Man and boy.

      Ali let herself breathe for a moment before answering. “I don’t know what to think. First he takes care of my truck, then this morning he shows up on the doorstep with a rope in hand, asking for Chance. What was I supposed to say?”

      “I think you did the right thing, Al, by letting him spend time with his son.”

      “But that terrifies me.”

      “What? Him being here? Or him with Chance?”

      “With Chance. Both. I don’t know.”

      “What did he say when you two talked after the firework show?”

      Ali crossed her arms, propping her shoulder against the barn. “He said he wants forgiveness. He said he wants to repair our...marriage.” A gritty lump formed in her throat as she watched Chance loop the rope over the fake horns and give a loud whoop. He clapped victorious hands with Jericho, whose deep laugh drifted across the yard. A person would have to be blind not to see the resemblance. They had the same eyes, same unruly hair, same slight swagger in their walk, same full-chested laugh. Ali rubbed at her throat.

      Kate touched her shoulder. “What are you gonna do?”

      “He’s a drunk, Kate.”

      “I haven’t smelled beer around him, and I sure haven’t seen him staggering around. He might have been at one point, but it doesn’t seem like he drinks anymore.”

      Ali closed her eyes. “If he’d walked out on you like he walked out on me, would you forgive him?”

      “We’re called to forgive everyone.”

      “He gets to turn my life into a nightmare. Then with a little ‘I’m sorry,’ we act like it never happened? Convenient.”

      Kate placed a hand over hers and Ali looked down, not realizing that her knuckles had become white from her iron grip on the barn door. She let go of the metal and flexed her hand, drawing the blood back into her fingers.

      “I don’t think forgiveness has to mean forgetting, Al. The consequences of sin will always be there, and I think he’s suffered them. Forgiveness means you grant pardon for what happened. It’s you saying you won’t be bitter and hold those actions against him.”

      Ali hugged her middle with both arms. “I can’t do that. He left. It bothers me that his life’s been fine without me, while I had to struggle and scrape and wish each day he’d come back and rescue us.” Her voice caught.

      “I wouldn’t say he

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