Page 59 of Smoky Mountain K-9

Stinger shifted, not done with his workout. She reined him in, and he tossed his head, not happy to be standing still. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk.”

“Agreed, but you’re either going to have to ride with me or wait.” Stinger shifted again.

“I’ll wait. I don’t think he’ll be content with the pace you’d have to keep with me.” He nodded to her horse.

No, he most definitely would not. “Okay. I shouldn’t be too much longer. We’ve been out here about twenty minutes already.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

The look in his eyes told Mara his words held a deeper meaning. A little of her ire diminished. The part that stemmed from the fear he didn’t want to be with her.

She gave him a quick nod and spun Stinger around, taking off along the fence line.

Thirty-Two

Carter leaned on the fence rail and watched Mara ride around the arena on the black streak she called a horse. Her red ponytail streamed behind her like a flag and dirt flew from the horse’s hooves as he rounded barrels and charged forward. How she stayed on, Carter didn’t know. There were times she leaned so far her knees nearly skimmed the dirt. But she always kept her seat, moving with the horse as he ran.

She had him captivated. Not just with her skill, but with her ferocity. It was a practice session, but rider and horse attacked the course like they were riding for gold. Mara did everything with her whole heart.

Knowing that, is what kept him away yesterday. Why he texted instead of called. He’d needed time to think. Once the dust settled, and his adrenaline ebbed, the knowledge of what could have been punched him in the gut. He’d muddled through debriefings on his part in securing the mine, then drove home and stumbled into bed. There, he’d laid awake, his thoughts running a hundred miles an hour as he processed his feelings.

And his memories. Once he let in thoughts about what happened all those years ago, the floodgates opened, and he couldn’t stop the tide of emotion. For the first time since the explosion, he’d let himself cry. Not just a tear or two, but a whole bucket full of tears. It was a true catharsis that washed away a lot of the guilt he still held. He’d always wonder if maybe it was his fault, but he was done blaming himself. There were too many what-ifs for anyone to ever know for sure what happened.

When he’d calmed, he’d debated for a hot minute going to Mara’s house and crawling into bed with her, but he knew they needed to talk before that could happen. Not wanting to wake her after the night she had, he went home with every intention of going by later. But a lost hiker changed his plans, and he and Maverick set off into the woods to help with the search.

He should have called. Texting was the coward’s way of bowing out of his promise to come see her. Which was why he was here now. Calling wouldn’t have smoothed things over. It might have made things worse. He’d made plenty of mistakes in the last few days. He didn’t need to make more. She was angry enough. Carter could see it in every line of her body whenever she glanced at him.

That was okay. She had every right to be upset with him. He’d been a dumbass and was ready to admit that. He just hoped it was enough.

Mara slowed her horse to a trot, making circles around the arena. After several passes, she slowed to a walk. After her second pass, she called out to him.

“Meet me at the gate.”

Carter pushed away from the fence and followed along it to the gate. He swung it open, and she walked through, still on her horse. The animal’s hooves clip-clopped on the concrete floor as she rode him to his stall.

Inside the stables, Maverick roamed from stall to stall, sniffing each one. Carter kept one eye on him and stopped beside Mara. She swung off her horse in one smooth movement, her boots making a soft thud as she landed.

“Do you want help?”

She shook her head and reached for the strap going around the horse’s stomach. Loosening it, she pulled on the saddle, and it slid off the animal’s back.

Carter stepped forward and took it from her. “Where does it go?”

“Tack room. Down the hall.” She pointed deeper into the barn.

He remembered seeing it when he was here before. Striding away, he put her saddle where it belonged. When he walked back, she had a large comb in her hand and was busy brushing the horse. Not knowing what else to do, he leaned against the wall and watched.

“You’re really good with him.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been riding all my life.”

“What’s his name?” He nodded to the horse.

“Stinger.”

Carter smiled. “That fits. He attacked that course. Do you use him for therapy sessions too?”