Sure enough, Firecracker screamed and backed up until her rump was testing the strength of the fence rails behind her. Erin had her answer. The mare had been frightened by only the sight of a quirt, but she was beyond terrified when Erin swung the handle. Erin tucked the device back into her pants. Uncle Slade had said repeated exposure would eventually condition Firecracker to no longer be afraid. If that tactic could work with a bubble gum container, why wouldn’t it work with the quirt?

Erin knew she was undoing all the trust she’d built between herself and the mare. That made her sad. But she was determined to get Firecracker back to being the wonderful horse she’d once been. And Erin had no question in her mind that Firecracker had once been an amazing animal. She didn’t know how the mare had ended up with her last owner. She only knew Uncle Slade had pegged him correctly. The man was a no-good son of a bitch.

Chapter Eighteen

Wyatt stood in the horse’s stall and watched Erin with a thoughtful smile. It’s happening, he thought. Erin was learning something new during every session with the mare. And she had been listening. Slade had given her one example of repetitious exposure to eventually cure a horse of being afraid of something, and Erin had extrapolated that bit of information and moved forward. And Wyatt believed Erin was on the right track. In fact, if he’d been working with Violet, he might have done the same thing.

When Erin left the paddock, Wyatt hurried out into the alley of the barn and pretended to be busy sorting through a bunch of tools that someone had left on a bench. He was aware of Erin’s approach this time because he knew she was coming, and as a consequence, he felt her presence in way that boggled his mind.

He glanced up and met her sparkling gaze. “Hey. How are you this morning?”

“Upset. Firecracker has been beaten with the handle of a quirt. What kind of man does such a thing?”

Wyatt straightened. “The kind of man who should never have animals.”

“Assuming it’s the same man you worked for, why’d he fire you?”

Wyatt wasn’t sure he wished to share that story. “I grabbed a lighted firecracker out of his hand and shoved it down the front of his pants.”

Erin’s eyes went as round as dimes. “Pardon me?” Then she waved her hand. “Never mind. I heard you clearly enough.” Then an impish grin curved her mouth and dimpled her cheeks. “That was evil.”

“Yep. It wasn’t one of my best moments, but for a few seconds, it sure was fun to watch him drop his drawers to get the explosive away from his—well, you get the picture.”

“I do. I wish I’d been there to see it.”

They both laughed. “I know you watch me a lot when I’m working with the horse,” Erin said. “You don’t say much, so I’m going to ask for feedback. Am I nuts to go in there with a riding quirt when I suspect that was what was used to beat her?”