I know I hit a nerve. Beside me, Mr. Knight is all tensed up like a wounded tiger. So I focus on Olivia and let him gather himself. He’s rather reasonable, given all we’ve discussed. I’m surprised. He’s actually human under all those layers of monster.

“Keep your arms parallel to the ground,” I tell Olivia. She flashes a smile my direction and lifts her hands so they’re not resting on the pommel.

“This is fun!” She says. The way she grins leaves me feeling like she’s lighting up my whole world. I duck between the fence slats and walk up to Dreamer, who walks right up to me and places her chin on my shoulder.

“Want to try a trot?” I ask Olivia, who nods. “Show me,” she says, kicking both feet free of the stirrups. She waits for me to help her slip free of the saddle, and I carefully guide her to the ground. When she’s at the fence, I mount up and steady Dreamer.

I take the reins and make sure Olivia is watching. Past her, I see Knight watching me too. But I put him out of my mind. The best course of action with him seems to be ignoring him for the moment.

I urge Dreamer into a walk, then into a trot, rising with the pace easily and with all the rhythm that makes Dreamer a dream to ride. When I pull her up, I let her walk the ring twice before bringing her to the halt.

When my feet hit the ground, Olivia materializes by my side. “The trick is,” I tell her as I help her get a foot in the stirrup to mount up, “to move with the horse. You’ll find the right rhythm. Get comfortable. Dreamer is patient, even if you make mistakes.”

Olivia settles into the saddle and grins at me. “She had a good teacher, I’m sure,” she says, and I know the compliment is intended for me, but I can’t help correcting her.

“My dad taught her. And she taught me.” The memories that flood back leave me stunned with agony. Olivia squeezes my hand, then nudges Dreamer into a walk around the ring. I fall back and find myself beside Knight, who has moved up to stand beside the ring.

And I decide to be smart. Once Olivia’s lessons are over, they can leave and never come back. Between his rude pushing me to sell my home and her ability to destroy my peace of mind, I feel like having them here is more damaging than good.

“When her lessons are over, I’d like you to leave and not come back,” I tell him, keeping my voice down as Olivia pushes Dreamer into a trot. She struggles a bit, then finds the pattern and settles in like a pro.

“Fine,” Knight says, his tone decidedly cold. “How much longer?” he asks, and I shrug.

“She’ll already be sore with what she’s done. Usually the kids I teach don’t pick things up so fast, so she’s already ahead of the curve.” Realizing I didn’t answer the question, I speak again. “Whenever you’re ready, she’s had a solid day.”

Olivia flashes us a thrilled grin and Knight warms right up, giving her a thumbs up. She balls a hand into a fist and taps it to her chest twice. He does it right back and her smile grows.

“What does that mean?” I ask, curious.

He doesn’t look at me, but responds. “Still beating.” The double tap sounds like a heartbeat, I realize.

“I like that,” I say, wondering where they’d come up with it. “I bet there is an amazing story behind that.”

He glares at me, the expression so bitter I back up a step, stunned by the sheer force of it. While he says nothing, I stare at him, wondering what happened to hurt him so bad. And I react without thinking.

Opening my arms, I pull him into a tight hug. My arms wind around his shoulders and I pull him tight to my body as if I can hug away his pain and anger. His whole body goes stiff and he refuses to respond, but I refuse to let go.

Then he softens a little and his arms close around my ribs. His face nestles in near my neck and my body wakes from a deep slumber I was unaware I was in.

“The world will chew you up and spit you out,” he says into my ear, and I shiver.

“It hasn’t yet,” I respond. I release him and we both step back, as if repelled back by an invisible force. Something between us shifts. Something intangible. Something I couldn’t even put to words if I tried.

But the flash in his eyes tells me he feels it too.

Needing to turn away, I motion Olivia to pull Dreamer to a halt. She does, then slides from the saddle like a pro. With the reins in her little fist, she walks Dreamer to the fence and speaks in a mournful tone.

“Time to go?” she asks, gazing up at me soulfully.

“Sadly,” I tell her. I stand back and let her lead Dreamer back toward the barn. She walks her into the stall. I slip in and take the saddle off her as Olivia takes off the bridle.

“You did so amazingly well today,” I tell her, and she grins at me. But there’s a decided sadness to her expression too.

“Dad messed this up, didn’t he?” she asks, and I find myself speechless.

At a loss for words, I force some out. “What? No, of course not.”

She seems so sad as she talks. “He’s not as mean as he seems. He’s just… hard on the outside. He’s really nice under everything.”

“No, no, no,” I say, needing to fix this. “He’s fine. You just did a lot today. You need a break. I bet your muscles will be sore tomorrow.”

She smiles, but I sense she’s not totally at ease. Once again, I wonder what the hell this girl has been through. “Hey,” I tell her, internally shouting at myself to shut my mouth even as the words escape, “If you ever need to talk, you have my number okay?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Dad wouldn’t like that. I’m only allowed to talk to my therapist.”

I nod, “That’s smart. A therapist is trained to help. I’m just a lady.”

To my surprise, she pulls me into a hug. Her arms wind around me tight and she holds on like I might disappear if she lets go. “Thank you,” She whispers, and I pat her head.

“Thank you,” I say, “I think you made Dreamer a happy lady tonight.”

I wonder if I’ll be able to just send them on their way when all is said and done. This girl has found her way into my heart. She reminds me of dad with her constant chatter to the horses, she’s so sweet and loving, yet so adult and aware at the same time. It’s heartbreaking. And beautiful.

When they walk out of my life, I might still own my land, but what about my heart?