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prospect seemed to cheer her.
    â€œI’ll take my chances,” Harlan said with a grin. “Come on, kid. Watch what I’m doing here. If you don’t cinch this saddle just right, you’ll be on your butt on the ground faster than either of us would like.”
    Jenny grudgingly joined him in the paddock. With trepidation clear in every halting move she made, she finally allowed him to boost her into the saddle on Misty’s back.
    â€œI don’t know about this,” she muttered, shooting him an accusing look. “What happens now?”
    â€œI’ll lead you around the paddock until you get used to it. Don’t worry about Misty. She’s placid as can be. She’s not going to throw you, unless you rile her.”
    â€œIs there anything in particular that riles her?” Jenny inquired, looking down at him anxiously. “I’d hate to do something like that by mistake.”
    â€œYou won’t,” he promised.
    It only took two turns around the paddock before Jenny’s complexion began to lose its pallor. Satisfied by the color in her cheeks that she was growing more confident by the second, Harlan handed her the reins.
    Panic flared in her eyes for an instant. “But how do I drive her?”
    â€œYou don’t drive a horse,” he corrected. He offered a few simple instructions, then stood by while Jenny tested them. Misty responded to the most subtle movement of the reins or the gentlest touch of Jenny’s heels against her sides.
    â€œEverything okay?” he called out as she rode slowly around the paddock.
    Jenny turned a beaming smile on him. “I’m riding, aren’t I? I’m really riding!”
    â€œI wouldn’t let you enter the Kentucky Derby just yet, but yes, indeed, you are really riding.”
    â€œOh, wow!” she said.
    Harlan chuckled as she seemed to catch herself and fall silent the instant the words were out of her mouth. Clearly she feared that too much enthusiasm would indicate a softening in her attitude toward this so-called prison sentence she felt had been imposed on her.
    â€œI’m ready to get down now,” she said, her tone bland again.
    Harlan patiently showed her how to dismount. “I think you’re going to be a natural,” he said.
    She shrugged with studied indifference. “It’s no big deal. I’d like to go inside now. Too much sun will give me skin cancer.”
    He hid another grin. “Run on over to the kitchen. Maritza will give you some suntan lotion. She might even have some of those cookies she was getting ready to bake out of the oven by now.”
    â€œJeez, milk and cookies, how quaint,” she grumbled, but she took off toward the house just the same.
    â€œBe back here in fifteen minutes,” he shouted after her.
    â€œSlave driver,” she muttered.
    Harlan shook his head. If she thought that now, he wondered what she’d have to say when she saw the fence he intended for her to learn how to mend.

    * * *

    Janet wasn’t sure what to expect when she drove back out to White Pines late that afternoon. She supposed it wouldn’t have surprised her all that much to find the ranch in ashes and Jenny standing triumphantly in the circular driveway.
    Instead she found her daughter sound asleep in a rocker on the front porch. Harlan was placidly rocking right beside her, sipping on a tall glass of iced tea. He stood when Janet got out of the car and sauntered down to meet her. Her stomach did a little flip-flop as he neared.
    To cover the tingly way he managed to make her feel without half trying, Janet nodded toward her daughter. “Looks like you wore her out, after all.”
    â€œIt took some doing. She’s a tough little cookie.”
    â€œAt least she thinks she is,” Janet agreed. She allowed herself a leisurely survey of the man standing in front of her. “You don’t appear to be any the worse for wear. You must