Didn’t ring any bells. “Maybe I’ll ask Trevor that question the next time I see him.” He’d talked to Stacy a few minutes before he walked into the CSI offices and learned she was on her way to the Twin Harts stable. He’d checked Trevor Lewis’s schedule-he got off at three on Wednesdays, so Stacy and Zachary should be safe enough. She said she was going to ask Cory Miller to take them out.

As long as she stayed away from Trevor Lewis, she should be just fine.

STACY HAD ASSUMED she could ask Cory to take her and Zachary out riding on Wednesday afternoon, but the stable manager wasn’t there when she walked Zachary down that afternoon. Only Trevor and a couple of other grooms were around.

“The governor and her daughters wanted to check out the south pasture,” Trevor explained. “They came here about a half hour ago and wanted Cory to show them the improvements he was making to that area, since they’re thinking of adopting several shelter horses out of the Houston SPCA. They want to make sure we have enough places for them to roam safely.”

“Well, that’s okay. I can stay today, so I’ll take Zachary riding myself.”

Trevor returned the stall rake to the tool rack on the barn wall. “I’m about to clock out, so I’ll come with.”

Apprehension fluttered through Stacy’s stomach. “That’s not really necessary. I’m sure you have better things to do with your afternoon.”

“Nope, not a thing.” Trevor grinned at Zachary. “Ready to help me saddle up Alamo?”

“Alamo is an Appaloosa,” Zachary told Stacy, tugging her hand for her to follow him to a nearby stall. He looked up at the horse standing at the stall door, beaming. “Alamo’s spotting pattern is a blanket with spots pattern,” he told her, lifting his arms for her to pick him up. She had to hold on tight as he lurched toward the horse, petting the animal’s dark nose.

“You’ve been reading up on your Apps, haven’t you?” Trevor ruffled Zachary’s hair. “Let’s get Alamo saddled up.”

“He looks awfully big,” Stacy said as Trevor brought the gelding out of the stall. He wasn’t a particularly tall horse, but his shoulders were wide and powerful, and his rump was even larger, with thick, muscular hindquarters that marked him as a quarter horse. “Are you sure this is the horse Zachary should ride?”

“Ah, he can handle old Alamo. Can’t you, Zachary?”

“Let’s go!” Zachary wriggled from Stacy’s grasp and hopped to the ground, running over to pat the Appaloosa’s shoulder.

She knew that the horse’s wild-eyed look was typical of Appaloosa horses, but she couldn’t tamp down a bubble of panic rising in her throat. “Zachary, maybe we should wait until another day to ride-”

“Mommy, I promised!” Zachary’s voice rose dangerously.

“Okay,” she said quickly, wishing Harlan were here to talk to. She felt pushed, trapped by the constant threat of a Zachary meltdown and Trevor Lewis’s breezy confidence that Zachary could handle anything Alamo could hand him.

Trevor chose a friendly palomino mare named Delta for Stacy, while he saddled up Soldado, a feisty chestnut gelding, for himself. “We’ll take it at a walk until we reach the east pasture, then we can let them canter a bit.”

“I’m not sure Zachary’s ready for cantering.”

Trevor met her nervous gaze with a smile. “Relax, Mom. Zachary’s been cantering for a couple of weeks. Alamo is an easy ride, and Zachary’s doing great with him.”

She had to admit her son’s physical coordination was better than a lot of aspie children. Charlotte attributed it to the physical therapy Stacy had started Zachary on once the Asperger’s syndrome was diagnosed.

“I’d just prefer he keep it to a walk.”

“Horses like to run,” Zachary said with a tug of the reins, expertly guiding Alamo through the stable door and out into the yard. “I have to let him run. I promised.”

She was going to have to have a long talk with Zachary about making promises.

HE WAS JUST MAKING UP an excuse to see Stacy, Harlan knew, but he told himself it was concern for her and Zachary that drove him back to the ranch around three. A car accident on the highway that bordered Twin Harts Ranch slowed him down, delaying his arrival, so he bypassed the main house and drove directly down the access road to the stable, stopping to ask the guard at the checkpoint if he’d seen Stacy and Zachary.

“They left about five minutes ago with one of the grooms.”

“I thought they were going with Cory Miller.”

The guard shook his head. “Miller took the governor and her daughter to see one of the lower pastures that’s been reclaimed. Ms. Giordano went with one of the younger grooms.”

The first hint of alarm fluttered in Harlan’s gut. “Do you know which one?” But even before the guard answered, Harlan knew what he’d say.

The guard checked the sign-in sheet. “It was Lewis. Trevor Lewis.”

Chapter Fourteen

The sweet-natured palomino, Delta, was a comfortable ride, though Stacy was sure she’d be sore in the morning. It had been a while since she’d been riding, but the walk to the east pasture was a pleasant reminder of one part of her life she’d left behind when she became a time-consuming combination of Zachary’s mother and Lila Lockhart’s aide-de-camp.

She’d grown up riding horses in Arkansas-some of her father’s rescues had required him to be able to travel by horseback, so he’d bought a couple of strong, reliable packhorses and kept them in a barn behind their house.

Though Jupiter and Mars had been friendly, dependable trail mounts, they loved to be run. Stacy was one of their favorite people, because they knew that, more often than not, when she saddled them up she was going to let them run like the wind across the pastureland behind the family home.

“See? He’s a natural,” Trevor called, nodding toward Zachary, who was handling Alamo with more confidence than Stacy had expected. He rode ahead and settled next to Zachary. “Ready to show your mom what you can do, cowboy?”

Zachary beamed at Stacy, his joyous look making her heart skip a beat. But before she could even smile back, Trevor gave Alamo’s rump a light slap and the horse kicked into a canter.

“Trevor, have you lost your mind?” She gave the palomino a quick tap of her riding boot to urge her forward. If the Appaloosa gelding decided to break into a gallop, Zachary could be hurt or even killed.

“Let the boy be a boy!” Trevor turned his horse into her path, forcing the palomino to pull up.

“Get out of my way!” Stacy pulled the palomino to the left to ride around Trevor.

Trevor blocked her again, laughing. “Stop being such a mother, Stacy! Let him have fun! He knows what he’s doing-”

“Damn it, Trevor, get the hell out of my way!” She whipped Delta’s reins to the right and sent her into a gallop, flying past Trevor. He grabbed for the reins but she kicked out at him, catching him in the thigh, and he wasn’t able to stop her.

Zachary was over fifty yards ahead of her now, holding on to the back of the galloping Appaloosa like a baby monkey clinging to its mother. Stacy couldn’t tell if he was in control or not, and she hadn’t gone ten yards before Trevor caught up with her, reaching again for the reins.

“Will you stop fighting me?” he called out, flashing her a confident grin as he snagged the reins to slow her horse. “Zachary’s tougher than you think. You don’t have to baby him all the time. You put so much time in mothering him, you don’t even seem to remember you’re a beautiful, vibrant woman!”

She stared at him, stunned by his gall and appalled by the accompanying compliment. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

Trevor’s grin widened. “You’re so sexy when you’re angry. Did you know that?”

Her skin crawling, she jerked at the reins, trying to regain control. “You don’t know me well enough to say any of these things to me.”

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