No Hero Like Him

Clint followed her out the door, and Claire could hear their low voices just outside. She wondered what they were discussing. Her father rarely talked about anything of importance, mostly mundane day-to-day news. Never anything personal. She took her place at the table and waited for him to join her. Within moments, he returned, filled his plate and sat down, digging into his food.

“I hired a camp assistant today,” Claire said.

Clint gave her a look from under bushy eyebrows. “Who?”

“He’s the brother of a teacher I know, Libby Morgan.”

“He’s a counselor, like you need?”

Claire gave a soft laugh. “Not even close. I called everybody I knew and nobody was available for the summer. Seth’s a bull rider. He broke his leg earlier this year.”

“Seth Morgan? I hated when I heard about that. I’ve seen him ride. He’s damn good.”

Oh, he’s damn good, all right. Claire’s body tightened at just the thought of his arm around her that morning and his warm breath on her face. She exhaled softly. She was going to have to break herself of that reaction, and quick. No way should she be responding to his male appeal at all, considering the circumstances.

“A bad break, according to his sister,” she told her dad. “She says he won’t be able to ride again.”

“I bet that’s not what he thinks.”

“You’re probably right. But from the way he limps, he may be in for a long haul back.”

Clint paused with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. “I’m surprised you hired him, knowing how strong you feel about rodeo and all.”

“To be honest, Dad, I’d have taken anybody with a good recommendation at this point. I can’t let Micah down.”

“Yeah, I know, but what if Morgan up and quits on you when he finds out you don’t like how those poor little rodeo bulls are treated? How will that affect your camp?”

“Now you’re making fun of me. I can’t see where my opinion would matter to Seth. Besides, he committed to the whole summer and you know a cowboy’s word is everything.” She smiled at her father, who had drilled that into her head from the time she was a baby. “Anyway, why would it even come up?”

“You’ll be on the ranch. The first time you take one of the ranch hands—or Morgan—to task for the way they handle an animal, he’ll figure it out. And if he gets released to ride early, I guarantee you he’ll be gone before you can count eight seconds.”

“I’m not even going to think about that. Libby says the doctor’s not going to okay any bull riding. Seth wants to do some therapy riding, and I think the first time he straddles a horse he’s going to realize he doesn’t want to be on a bull—although he might back out of therapy before he gets started. I told him he’d have to wear a helmet.”

“Now that I’d like to see,” Clint said with a broad grin. “I surely would.”

CHAPTER FIVE

SETH APPEARED at the stables right on time the next morning. One point for promptness, Claire thought. And another for looking flat-out sexy this morning in crisp jeans and a creamy shirt that accentuated his tawny eyes. With that black hat set low on his forehead, the cockiness she’d noticed yesterday was in full force, despite the unevenness of swagger.

“So, I’m here. What do I get to learn today? How to saddle the pony?”

The attitude nixed both those newly earned points.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Claire said, “I thought we’d start with therapy. I received the release from your doctor this morning for supervised sessions.”

“Supervised! I told you I was going to skip that, anyway. I’ll find a horse to ride somewhere else.”

“Your decision, but Belle’s saddled and ready. Wouldn’t do any harm to see if a go-round helps.”

She saw his hesitation, sensed that he really wanted to try but was embarrassed.

“This morning would be a good time,” she added. “Things are quiet and there’s nobody around.”

“Except y—” He bit off the word.

“I’m not the problem,” Claire said. When she held out a helmet, he rebelled completely, almost recoiling from it.

“I’m not wearing that damn thing.”

“You will if you expect to ride.”

“Come on. I’ve never worn a helmet in my life—for anything. And I don’t need a lesson. I just want to get on the horse.”

There. He’d admitted it. Claire wanted to smile. Just as she’d suspected, he did want to ride, probably more than she could imagine.

“Rules. Sorry.” Claire lifted the helmet toward him and waited. Finally he set his cowboy hat on the bench, took the helmet and plopped it on his head. “Satisfied?”

“Buckle it.”

She could feel his rising frustration, but he fastened the strap. Claire bit back a smile. He was as cute as anything with that helmet on, but she didn’t dare say so.

He eyed the mare’s back skeptically. “What kind of saddle is that?”

“It’s specially made for my students. High cantle with extra support in the back, and the pommel is easy to hold on to. Lead her over here to the mounting block.”

“Hell, I’m not going to do this. I didn’t expect remedial riding lessons.” He reached for the helmet buckle.

“Probably just as well,” Claire said without missing a beat. “I doubt you can get on her at this point even with the mounting block.”

“What?”

“You heard me. We should wait until you’ve healed more.”

His lips pressed into an angry line and his chest heaved. “I can get on the damn—”

“You’re going to have to stop that cursing before camp. Might as well be now.”

“I can get on the horse,” Seth said sharply.

“Do it, then.”

She never would have been so blunt with one of her students, but Seth was a grown man and she figured he’d cowboy up and meet her dare.

Seth moved to the end of the ramp that led to a platform used for the more challenged riders. The first step up the incline shot a hot poker of pain through his thigh. If Claire hadn’t been standing nearby, waiting for him to fail, he would have turned tail and gone home. Instead, he grasped the rail, set his jaw and somehow made his way to the top. Then came the next challenge—getting on the horse. To do so he had to balance on his left leg while he swung his right up and over the low saddle. Problem was, he couldn’t bear full weight on that leg long enough.

“Don’t try that,” Claire said, as if reading his mind. “Face the horse and lean on her to support yourself, then swing your right leg over.”

God, he hated this disability. Ordinarily, he’d be asking a girl like Claire for a date, hoping to score later in the night—from the first time he’d seen her, he’d been intrigued by the intelligence in her pretty face and the ready smile that put a sparkle in her gold-flecked hazel eyes. Instead, she was telling him what to do, and he was barely able to follow through. How the hell had he come to this?

But Seth had never been one to back down from a challenge, even if this might be the most humiliating thing he’d ever done. He took Claire’s advice and eased his leg over the horse’s rump. As he settled into place on Belle’s back, he thought he might have to do it all over again, because the pain that exploded through his hip and groin muscles almost knocked him to the ground. Anything other than this gentle, plodding horse would have put him in the dust in a lot less time than a bull ever had.

“Do you want me to lead her for a while?” Claire asked.

All Seth could do was shake his head. He held out one hand for the reins while he clutched a shock of mane in the other to stay on. Claire didn’t look as if she wanted to, but she looped the knotted reins over Belle’s head and gave them to him, her long, slender fingers lingering on his hand until he had a good grip.