She smoothed his hair.
"Go wait in the car, Leo. Please."
"But I want to see the horses," Leo said. He looked over Elena’s shoulder at Ryder. "The pirate said he knows about horses."
Ryder looked at the boy. He looked at the hope in his eyes.
He looked at Elena. She was pleading with him silently.Don't do it. Don't engage.
Ryder swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Go with your mom, kid," Ryder said roughly. "I'm busy."
Leo’s face fell. He looked at his shoes.
"Okay," he whispered.
He turned and walked back to the car.
Elena stood up. She looked at Ryder one last time. There was no victory in her eyes. Only exhaustion.
She walked out.
Ryder stood alone in the barn. He listened to the engine start. He listened to them drive away.
He had the truth. But he had lost the war.
II. The Flinch
Saturday brought the inevitable collision of logistics and secrets.
Elena had an emergency at the clinic—a tourists' RV rollover on the highway. Her mother was out of town at a bingo tournament. That left one option for childcare: The Stone Ranch.
Cole was babysitting. Or rather, Cole was letting Leo follow him around the yard while he fixed a gate, keeping a watchful eye on the boy.
Ryder was "quarantined" on the porch. That was the deal. He could watch, but he couldn't engage.
He sat on the swing, whittling a piece of cedar with a pocket knife, watching his son.
Leo was wearing the red boots. He was marching through the dust, dragging a stick, pretending to be a soldier or a ranger. He looked the part. He had the Stone jawline, the dark hair, the confident stride.
He's a natural,Ryder thought, a swell of pride rising in his chest.Put him on a pony and he'll ride circles around Cole.
Then, the dog barked.
Buster, the ranch’s old blue heeler, ran around the corner of the barn, chasing a chicken. He wasn't aggressive; he was just loud.
Woof!
Leo froze.
He didn't just stop; he crumbled. He dropped the stick. He threw his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a high, terrified shriek.
"No! Go away! Go away!"
Cole dropped his wrench. "Leo? It's just Buster. He's friendly."
Leo didn't hear him. He was trembling, backing away, tripping over his own boots. He fell into the dirt, curling into a ball.
