Erin knew better. The Rob Sorensens of the world plea-bargained and rarely served enough time in prison. But she didn’t need to disillusion Kennedy by sharing that. This was his time in life to believe that justice would always prevail.

“Thanks for the talk about gun safety,” she told him. “That’s a great parallel. It helps me understand why everyone on this ranch is so quick to criticize me.”

“Yep. To them, being unsafe around a horse is like pointing a loaded gun at someone. Only you’re pointing the barrel at yourself.”

Erin paused long enough on the porch after leaving the bunkhouse to take a deep breath and release it. She wasn’t sure if she would leave in the morning or decide to stay another day. But one thing she was certain of: She would have a different perspective now and know men yammering at her about safety wasn’t necessarily evidence of a double standard.

When Erin reentered the paddock, she was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of loggers wearing cork boots. The horse seemed just as nervous. Erin had dumped the contents of one vegetable bag into the pouch of her shirt. Holding tightly to the lead, she tried to reach up and touch the mare’s head. With a shrill whinny, the animal reared high onto her back legs and sliced the air around Erin with her front hooves. Again, Erin nearly wet her pants. But this time, she was quicker to note that the mare had avoided striking her. That made her feel less afraid and a little less nervous as well.

“I get it,” she said softly.

The mare snorted and swung her massive head.

“Yes, I really do,” she said. “I’m scared, too. Not just of you, but a lot of other things.” She held out a chunk of carrot, hoping the mare might take it. But that wasn’t going to happen. Erin was the enemy, and any food she offered was suspect. “It’s only a carrot. You like carrots. Right? And this is a very tasty carrot. At the rate we’re making progress, I may have to eat them for lunch.”

Erin remembered seeing Wyatt hunker in front of the frightened gelding last fall, how he’d just assumed a position and remained there, not moving a muscle until the horse grew curious and began sniffing his hat and shirt. She led the mare toward the only tree in the paddock, which was a feat in and of itself, because the animal really didn’t want to be led anywhere. But to the mare’s credit, she wasn’t completely ill-mannered in her protests. She neighed and balked and threw her head, but she didn’t wheel away and jerk the rope from Erin’s hand. Her behavior made Erin feel sad. When she rebelled against her father, she always tried to be polite about it, too.

Erin sat with her back braced against the tree and rested her open hand holding the carrot on her knee, palm up. She relaxed her shoulders, which took concentration. With a gigantic animal standing over her, she felt vulnerable. And it would be just her luck that she was breaking yet another safety rule Wyatt would yammer at her about. He’d said he would be watching her.