Accidental Hero. Loralee Lillibridge

heart. Six-year-old Teddie North was one of the first students signed up for the therapeutic riding program, yet his progress was much slower than the other students in his class. Abby was still trying to break through the barrier of his shyness. Trying to win his trust. With both legs recently out of heavy casts, Teddie struggled with his limitations. So far, the only one he trusted besides his mother was the little mare, Star—the one he loved to pet, but refused to ride.

      Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Buck leading Star out of her stall. She smiled. Pop could always be counted on. Her heart swelled with love and admiration. Without him, her school would still be only a dream. Buck had supported and encouraged her through all the tough times. She would be forever grateful. The children and their needs had pulled her through the loneliness—after Bo. Somehow, Pop had known they would. She’d never blamed her father for their financial problems.

      Star whickered and bobbed her head. Buck let her trot to the fence where Teddie and his mother stood on the opposite side. Blowing softly, the little mare pushed at the fence until Teddie poked his hand between the rails. Immediately, Star nudged it, lipping his small finger in a gentle welcome. Teddie’s face lit up, and his childish giggle made Abby smile.

      She approached him hesitantly, speaking softly. “Do you think you’d like to try riding her today, Teddie?”

      The look of panic on the boy’s face was so pronounced, Abby quickly turned away to hide her disappointment. Every day she hoped for a breakthrough to reach the youngster. Today wasn’t going to be the day, but she refused to give up hope.

      She dug in her pocket for a carrot and handed it to Teddie. “Here, why don’t you give her this, instead? She likes it when you give her a treat.”

      Teddie took the carrot and timidly stuck it through the fence, a cherubic grin appearing when Star nibbled out of his hand.

      “I don’t know why he won’t try to ride,” Teddie’s mother said, keeping her voice low. “All he talks about all week is Star. He loves her, really he does.” She reached out to caress her son’s tiny shoulder, then moved her hand to tousle his hair.

      Abby spoke reassuringly. “Star loves him, too, and someday he’ll ride. You’ll see.” She gave the little mare a pat on the rump, then excused herself to check on the arrival of the other students.

      Thankfully, the Kelly boy had turned out to be a fast learner and a tremendous hit with all the students. Even Teddie seemed to trust him although he was still afraid of the horses and never went beyond the gate. Abby decided that Karl’s help was well worth giving up a new dishwasher.

      After everyone had gone, Abby massaged the back of her neck, and fell into step beside Buck. “Why are Mondays always so long, Pop? Karl did all right, don’t you think? Are tuna sandwiches okay for lunch?”

      Buck shortened his stride and put his arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “Which question do you want me to answer first?” His warm chuckle was as comforting as his embrace.

      Abby gave him a tired smile. Her habit of asking more than two questions in a row was an old joke between them. Pop’s answer never varied. She leaned her head against his arm and sighed. “I guess I know the answers to two of them. Mondays are long because they just are, and Karl definitely did all right. I think he likes working with the students as well as the horses.”

      Buck nodded. “And a tuna sandwich is fine. Yeah, Karl’s a good kid. I wish there was some way we could give him a regular salary to help out with chores. His folks are having a tough time getting by since his dad got laid off.”

      “I decided to take some out of the money I’d been saving to fix the dishwasher, Pop. It’s not much but maybe we can have him come a few more times.”

      “Well now, that’s just fine. I knew you’d figure something out.”

      “But, we still have the veterinarian’s regular visit coming up, plus the bill at the feed mill is due by the end of the month.” Abby couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed at the increasing debts.

      “Something’ll turn up,” Buck said, his optimism sincere. “It always does.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze, then moved to open the gate. They walked in silence across the yard toward the house.

      The growl of a pickup interrupted their thoughts. “Looks like it already has,” she said.

      Shorty’s ancient truck clattered across the cattle guard at the ranch entrance and bounced up the drive, stopping right next to where Buck and Abby stood.

      Abby’s heart hiccuped and stuck in her throat the minute she caught sight of Bo sitting on the passenger side. She heard his familiar voice as she hurried past, but didn’t stop until she reached the porch.

      “Of all the damned tricks…” Bo sputtered at the man behind the wheel when they stopped in front of the house. He’d figured out where Shorty was headed as soon as the truck veered off the main road and headed west on the farm-to-market route.

      By the time they’d skirted town, Bo’s protests had escalated right along with his blood pressure, but his stubborn friend ignored him with a possum-like smirk and kept on driving. That irritated the hell out of him, too.

      “I’m not getting out,” he declared, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back in the seat. He glared at Shorty.

      When he spied Abby coming from the corral, he yanked his hat down. He could almost feel the daggers shooting at him from Buck Houston’s angry eyes. He should’ve been suspicious when Shorty told him he’d found something for Bo to do. No way was he taking charity from the Houstons. Besides, the horses he glimpsed as they drove in looked like geriatric throwaways. They sure couldn’t require much more than a green pasture and a clean stall. Any kid could do that.

      “Quit being a jackass,” was all Shorty had time to say before Buck walked around to the driver’s side and stuck his hand through the window.

      “Hey, Shorty, good to see you.”

      “You, too, Buck,” the older man said as they shook hands.

      “Bo,” Buck muttered with a slight nod. He withdrew his hand.

      “Houston,” Bo replied, curling his fingers in a tight fist. Well, damned if I need your handshake.

      “Something special bring you out this way, Shorty?”

      Buck still stood at the side of the truck, but Bo knew the man’s gaze was focused on him. Abby stood on the porch steps, obviously waiting to see what would happen next. He wasn’t quite sure what Shorty’s plans were, but he was positive no one around here was going to like them. Especially him.

      “I got something I’d like to talk to you about, Buck.” Shorty moved to open the truck door.

      “Sure,” Buck said. He jerked his thumb toward the porch. “Come on up. I’ll have Abby bring us something cold to drink.”

      “Well…” Shorty hesitated. “I was thinking maybe somewhere more private.”

      “Oh. Well, all right.” Buck started toward the barn. “We’ll be out of the sun in here.”

      Shorty slammed the door to the truck and started to follow. “Back in a few, Bo. You ought to go and thank Abby for the chili.” He tossed the comment over his shoulder with a don’t argue tone that Bo couldn’t have missed even if he tried.

      Bo slid a little further down in the seat. Banged his knee on the dash. Ow! Geez! He shot a glance toward the house…and Abby. Well, hell, now what do I do?

      While he was wrestling with that question, Abby descended the steps and slowly made her way to the truck. The temptation to watch was more than he could resist.

      The way she swung her hips in that sweet, seductive sway jump-started his pulse, and his temperature shot skyward. She’d always had the power to incite a riot in his body. He remembered how astonished she’d been when he’d revealed that very personal phenomenon to her. Surprised and delighted.