It was a failure he didn’t plan to repeat.
He caught sight of Jonah crossing the yard toward the bunkhouse, shoulders hunched against the winter chill, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.
“Man’s been keeping his distance all morning,” Boone noted, following Walker’s gaze.
“He’s still finding his footing. Hasn’t decided if he belongs here yet, but he’ll get there. Took you a while, too.”
Johanna emerged from her office in Jonah’s wake, arms wrapped around herself against the cold. She’d pulled her hair back in that no-nonsense braid she favored for work, but strands had already escaped, framing her face in the wind. Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her posture.
“I’ll handle those calls,” Boone said quietly, giving Walker’s shoulder a brief squeeze before heading toward the bunkhouse, Bishop materializing from somewhere to trot alongside him.
Walker closed the distance to Johanna, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms right there in the open yard.
“How was the session with Jonah?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” Johanna said, a frown creasing her forehead. “He’s still holding back. I tried a different approach today—more direct—but...” She gestured vaguely with one hand.
“Still no progress?”
“A little, maybe.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture that still made his chest tighten. “He feels useless and helpless, and there was real pain there, Walker. He needs a purpose.”
“Like Bishop was for Boone,” Walker murmured, remembering how the dog had transformed the angry young man who’d almost driven away.
“Exactly.” Her eyes lit up, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to reach for him. Instead, she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “I suggested he might help with the equine program expansion. Someone with his logistics background could be invaluable in setting that up.”
It was a solid idea, and he kicked himself for not thinking of it. The kid had organizational skills that neither he nor Boone possessed, and a clear affinity for the horses. “Smart thinking. I’ll talk to him about it later, seeif?—”
He broke off mid-sentence at the crunch of tires on gravel and turned toward the sound.
A tan sheriff’s department SUV rolled up the driveway.
“What the hell?” he muttered and nudged Johanna behind him.
The SUV stopped, and Sheriff Hank Goodwin unfolded himself from the driver’s seat, adjusting his hat against a gust of wind.
“Good morning, Walker, Johanna,” Hank called and tipped his hat toward her, but there was nothing friendly in the gesture or in his smile. “Got a report of a break-in out here. Thought I should check it out personally.”
“You heard wrong, Hank. We didn’t call anything in, so you can just get right back in your car and clear out.”
Behind him, Johanna sucked in a sharp breath, which told him she knew who had made the report. Dammit.
“One of your men called it in,” Hank continued, his gaze sweeping over the property with undisguised disdain.
As if on cue, the bunkhouse door opened, and Jonah stepped out, stopping short at the sight of the sheriff. Even from a distance, Walker could read the confusion on the young man’s face, followed by the dawning realization that he’d made a serious miscalculation.
Walker exhaled and ran a hand over his face. “Shit,” he said, keeping his voice soft for Johanna’s ears alone. “The kid called it in, didn’t he?”
“He wouldn’t have known about Hank,” she murmured. “We never briefed him on the history.”
“No, we didn’t.” And that was on him. He wouldn’t make that mistake with future residents. He straightened his shoulders and strode forward to meet Hank halfway.
“I’ve got this handled, Hank,” Walker said, keeping his voice neutral despite the anger building in his chest. “There was no need for you to come all the way out here.”
Hank’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Now, Walker, we can’t have crimes going unreported in my county. Especially not at an establishment with your... particular clientele.” His gaze slid past Walker to where Jonah stood frozen by the bunkhouse. “That the one who called it in? Said someone was lurking around the barn before dawn, trying to break in.”
He forced himself to take a breath, to keep his temper in check. Hank wanted to provoke him into doing something stupid.
“As I said, it’s handled. Just some kids, looks like. Nothing was taken.”
