He grinned at her. “I don’t know. About the only time I could get you into the barn was when I wanted to tumble you into the haystack.”

“Cody Adams, that is not true,” she contradicted, patches of bright color flaring in her cheeks. “Besides, that has absolutely nothing to do with Sharon Lynn and this crazy idea Harlan has of getting onto a horse with her.”

“Stop fussing. She’s just the right age to be introduced to riding. Kids her age have no fear. It’s not like Daddy’s going to put her on the horse, hit its rump and send her galloping around the paddock. He’s going to be in the saddle, holding her.”

“I suppose,” Melissa said, but her gaze immediately sought out some sign of Sharon Lynn the minute the barn came into view.

The little cutie was hard to miss. She was squealing with delight from her perch atop the fence around the paddock. Misty, the oldest, smallest and gentlest of their mares, had come to investigate. Sharon Lynn’s eyes were wide with excitement as she patted the white blaze on Misty’s head.

“This is Misty,” Harlan was explaining quietly, his grip firm on the horse’s bridle. “Can you say that? Misty.”

“Mi’ty,” Sharon Lynn dutifully repeated, surprising all of them.

The horse neighed softly at hearing her name.

Cody glanced at Melissa and saw that she’d finally begun to relax. Her gaze was riveted on her daughter, though. He sensed that if Misty so much as shied back a step, Melissa was poised to snatch Sharon Lynn out of harm’s way.

Just when he thought the worst of her reaction was past, she turned and looked up at him, anxiety and dismay clearly written all over her face. “How can your father even think about getting on a horse ever again?” she asked in a low voice, not meant to carry.

As if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, Cody finally realized why Melissa had been so upset by Harlan introducing Sharon Lynn to riding. The accident that had cost his mother her life hadn’t even crossed his mind when Harlan had suggested bringing Sharon Lynn out to see the horses. But obviously the way Mary Adams had died had left an indelible image on Melissa’s mind, as it might on anyone who didn’t have the sensitivity of a slug, Cody chided himself. She had been fearful of horses to begin with. His mother’s death could only have exaggerated that fear.

“Damn, no wonder you turned white as a sheet a minute ago when Daddy suggested bringing Sharon Lynn out here,” he apologized. “You were thinking about what happened to Mother, weren’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked, staring at him incredulously.