Page 96 of High Intensity

I mention it to Jillian when she joins the kid and me in the stable after Hayley’s ride.

“Why don’t we go grab some takeout in town—something easy—and bring it home? We’ll have an early dinner.”

“Did you see me?” Hayley pipes up before Jillian has a chance to answer me.

“I saw. You did really well,” Jillian compliments her, a big smile on her face.

“Lucas says we can go for a trail ride,” the little minx adds.

“Once all the snow is melted, yes,” I amend her statement, before adding, “Don’t forget to put the saddle back in the tack room and grab the grooming bucket.”

Her face drops a little, but I ignore it. I’m not sure what her life was like before—whether she was spoiled or not—but I happen to believe it’s important for her to learn any privilege comes with responsibility. So along with the privilege of riding a horse—or owning any pet for that matter—comes with the responsibility of looking after it.

“You know what’s interesting?” Jillian says, as we watch Hayley struggle to carry the heavy saddle to the tack room. “When she first brought up wanting a horse, she said her father told her she had to be old enough to look after it first. You’re teaching her the same thing.”

She slips her arm through mine and gives it a squeeze.

“You’re good with her. Easy and natural.” She sighs deeply before admitting, “I’m finding it hard not to wrap her up and pack her away safely.”

I slip a hand behind her neck and turn her toward me, resting my forehead against hers.

“Understandable. Of course you are protective of her, but as much as it costs you, I don’t think you’re coddling her at all. You’re still giving her the freedom to discover and explore on her own, no matter how hard it is. I don’t pretend to be an expert on the subject, but to me that’s what good parenting is.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles when I drop a kiss on her lips.

When Hayley returns with the grooming bucket, I let go of Jillian and grab one of the brushes. The kid isn’t quite tall enough to brush the horse’s back, so I give her a hand. I step into the stall with her, while Jillian watches from the other side of the door.

“By the way, we’ll be fine if you want to spend more time at the ranch,” she suggests, not sounding quite as casual as I think she’d hoped to.

I catch her eye over Tinker Bell’s back.

“Do you want me to spend more time at the ranch?”

She shrugs. “That’s not the point.”

“Oh, but it is,” I lob back, noticing Hayley is paying very close attention to our conversation.

Maybe this isn’t a conversation she needs to be part of.

I toss my brush in the bucket and open the stall door.

“We’ll be right back,” I tell Hayley as I grab Jillian’s hand and pull her to the tack room.

“It was just a suggestion,” she mutters.

I close the door and back Jillian into the wall, ducking my head so we’re eye to eye.

“What’s going through your head?”

“Nothing. It was just an innocent?—”

“Bullshit.”

Her eyes flash with anger. She doesn’t like getting called out, but that’s too bad.

“Fine,” she snaps. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I realize me taking in Hayley may have changed things. It’s not exactly what you signed up for.”

I’m getting pretty annoyed myself so my response is clipped.

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