LITMIR.BIZ

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I said, I don’t have much choice, either.” He cleared his throat and added, “I was wondering about that therapeutic riding, too. Do you think it might heal my leg quicker?”

      “We could sure give it a try.”

      “I guess that sort of thing’s pretty expensive, though, and my insurance has paid all it’s going to for physical therapy.”

      “Therapy lessons aren’t cheap,” Claire agreed. “Most of my students are subsidized by donations.”

      “That’s what I figured,” Seth said, shrugging. “It was a good thought, anyway.”

      In truth, she didn’t recoup the cost of maintaining the stables and horses or upkeep of equipment, not to mention her modest salary, from what she charged her students. Most of her funding came from generous donations, most of her help from teenagers who volunteered their free time.

      “How about this—you work at camp in exchange for therapy. However, I expect a firm commitment from you to stay the whole summer. I can’t afford to lose you halfway through and have to send the boys home.”

      Seth didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Fine. It’s not like I’ve got anything else waiting. I’m pretty much sidelined for the summer. So, what all does this camp involve?”

      “Pull up a chair,” Claire said. When they were settled, she began, “The camp starts next Sunday and will last four weeks. An old bunkhouse on the Rider ranch has been converted to a dorm, thanks to donations from Jon Rider and Cimarron Cole. Do you know them?”

      Seth shook his head. “I haven’t met many people since I’ve been here. Libby says I’ve been a hermit.”

      “Jon’s wife, Kaycee, is the vet next door, and Cimarron and his wife, Sarah, own the café and bed-and-breakfast on the other side of the parking lot. Jon donated the bunkhouse on his ranch and Cimarron rebuilt it into a dorm.”

      “Sounds like you’ve got some good connections.”

      Claire laughed softly. “My dad, Clint, is Jon’s foreman, and I helped Cimarron with his little boy, Wyatt, before he married Sarah. He’s shown his gratitude by supporting both my camp and my therapeutic riding school.”

      “So how much does a riding lesson cost?” Seth asked.

      “If I charged what it costs me to run the school, at least a hundred fifty bucks an hour.”

      Seth whistled softly. “That’s steep.”

      “Yes, but who can afford that around here? Nobody. That’s why the donations are so important. I charge from sixty to ninety dollars an hour depending on what the family can afford.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “I couldn’t afford that for long. You must be planning on paying me a lot.”

      “No, sorry, not all that much. Barry was a volunteer, but I did plan to offer a small salary.”

      “Which I can exchange for a few therapy sessions?”

      “Yes, we can do that.”

      “Deal,” Seth said. “You’ve got an assistant camp director. So what now?”

      “Paperwork. Lots of paperwork.” Claire pulled a folder from a desk drawer and handed it to him along with a pen. “There’s an application and other forms inside. One concerns general medical information. I’ll need your doctor’s signature on a physical exam form—you’ll need a physical if you haven’t had one lately. I’ll also need a recent therapist’s evaluation before you start riding. I can fax the forms to speed things up.”

      “Sure. My surgeon is in Dallas and my therapist is in Bozeman.” Seth gave her the names.

      “Dallas? That’s pretty far away for checkups, isn’t it?”

      “Doc Tandy’s the best. I use an imaging center in Bozeman to do X-rays and send them to him to evaluate. My therapist sends him reports, too, probably not much to his liking these days. I’ll have to go back in a few months, but for now long distance works.”

      “I see,” Claire said. She wrote down the names, then pointed to the packet of papers in front of him. “Also, there’s a release to run a background check on you.”

      “Background check? In case I’m some kind of pervert?”

      Claire leaned back in her chair and studied his face. He had the softest eyes, and a smile that quirked up endearingly on one side.

      “Something I have to do on anybody I hire, since I work with children and teens. One of the local deputies runs the checks, and he usually gets back to me right away. But if there are any surprises that might show up, I’d appreciate you bowing out now. Having Micah come to camp is very important to me, and I don’t have time to spare.”

      “No surprises. I had a speeding ticket two years ago, but I paid it. No bad credit—not yet, anyway. No arrests or anything like that. Not on any child-predator list, either.”

      “That’s good to know,” Claire said. She trusted that Libby would never have suggested her brother for the job if he had a questionable background, but she had to be sure, anyway, to safeguard her campers.

      Seth opened the folder and flipped through the pages. “Whew, this could take awhile.”

      “Part of the process. Lots of red tape. But if you have time to fill them out now, we could get some of the orientation out of the way today.”

      “What kind of orientation?”

      “First, how to handle the horses.”

      He gave her an incredulous glare. “I know how to handle horses. I grew up on a ranch. I’ve been around livestock since I could walk.”

      “I don’t doubt that, but my horses are trained for special-needs children and adults. They’re accustomed to being treated the same way each time.” Claire was used to this spiel. She had to give it to all new riders and their parents and caregivers. The youngsters were generally not a problem, but older students and adults tended to resist learning new techniques. She hoped Seth was flexible.

      “You’d have to go through the orientation, anyway, if you want therapy. I have a license to maintain and insurance requirements to fulfill.” Claire braced for his reaction, then added, “And you’ll be required to wear a helmet when you ride.”

      A look of surprise and sheer defiance crossed his face. “A helmet? You’re kidding.”

      “’Fraid not. It’s a safety requirement for me to keep my insurance.”

      He looked away, frustration obvious in his eyes. She figured he was cursing her silently, but she had to stick to her guns.

      “Lady, you must have a hell of an insurance company.”

      She waited for him to back out of the whole deal. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he stared down at the stack of papers.

      “So are you still with me?” she asked.

      He glowered. “I don’t go back on my word. But I might just forgo the therapy.”

      “That’s up to you. I’ll catch up on some computer work while you complete the forms.” She turned to her monitor and finally he picked up the pen and began to fill in the blanks.

      When he finished, about twenty minutes later, he closed the folder and pushed it toward her. “Can we go pet the horses now?”

      Claire ignored the sarcasm. “Sure, come on. I’ll let you have your pick, if you’re good.”

      “Oh, I’m good, lady. I’m real good.”

      Claire shook her head and rolled her eyes. Seth gave her a crooked smile in return.

      They walked slowly down the row of stalls. One after another, horses pressed friendly noses against the bars and were rewarded with

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