“I like it.” I like you. Dan studied her mouth, sensing more than seeing the unhappiness Libby held on to. How much of her grief had she worked through? Something in him wanted to reach out to her, to help her, and perhaps in doing so, heal himself. Vestiges of pain remained in her eyes. Well, Dan knew what it was like to carry that kind of sadness around.
“So, when’s a good day?”
Libby shrugged. “It’s best to ride in the morning or late afternoon. The midday is murder, and I don’t like to subject human or animal to it.”
“How about Friday at 0900? I’ll meet you here.”
“Not this Friday. I have to get ready for a horse show we’re having here on Saturday and Sunday.” She motioned toward the arena. “It’s a two-day show for the children, and I’ll be helping them and giving encouragement from the sidelines.”
“Okay…then how about the following Monday—at 0900?”
Libby hesitated, then capitulated under Dan’s warm gaze. “Okay. Do you know how to ride, Captain?”
Dan grinned. “I’m a beginner, but I have a feeling you’ll teach me.”
“Better wear jeans. Do you have a pair of cowboy boots?”
“No, but I can get some.”
“Good, wear them. I’ll put you in a Western saddle. That way, you won’t fall off.”
With a laugh, Dan threw her a salute. “You’re really hell on a man’s ego, you know?”
She laughed. “Really?”
“Well, maybe some men, but not me. I’ll see you Monday morning, Libby.”
As he turned away, Libby admired the breadth of his shoulders and the inherent strength of his back beneath the snug-fitting shirt. He was in excellent shape, she could see. As Dan settled the garrison cap back on his head, Libby knew without a doubt he was proud to be a marine. There was strength in his movements, blended with confidence and pride. Suddenly, Libby wanted to know a great deal more about him. Where had he come from? How had life treated him? He seemed so positive and upbeat.
Mulling over her observations, Libby guided Shiloh out of the gate and toward the tack room below the arena. A number of trail riders were going and coming, the vociferous noise of marines on the horses echoing around the small niche in a canyon where the stable stood.
Most of the children from her class had already left, and Jenny was just unsaddling her mare when Libby arrived at the tack room.
“Long two minutes,” Jenny teased.
Dismounting, Libby grimaced. “I was wrong.”
“Oh?”
Unbuckling Shiloh’s girth beneath the saddle flap, Libby said, “I thought he was chasing me, but he’s not. He wants me to show him around the area on horseback Monday morning.”
Jenny slid the English saddle off her horse and held it in her arms. “And?”
“Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
“Oh, you know which one,” Libby muttered, hauling the saddle off Shiloh. “This is strictly business, Jenny. Captain Ramsey wants to become acquainted with this area because it’s the direction brig prisoners always head to escape onto civilian territory.”
“Sure.”
“You,” Libby said, following her into the darkened tack room, “are misinterpreting Dan’s—I mean, Captain Ramsey’s actions.”
“Sure I am.” Jenny giggled and hung the saddle on a long cottonwood rack, checking to be sure the iron stirrups were snugly fitted up near the back of the saddle before she wiped it down with a clean cloth.
“You’re such a wiseacre, Stevens.”
“My momma and daddy didn’t raise a dummy, Ms. Tyler. Despite Captain Ramsey’s seemingly innocent request, I think he’s pursuing you.”
“Pooh.” Taking a damp cloth, Libby quickly wiped down her own leather straps and saddle. “He’s new here. He’s got to get the lay of the land. I give him credit, at least he’s doing his homework. What other PM has ever come down to check out the terrain?”
Grabbing her purse from the tack trunk, Jenny said, “Precisely my point, Lib. Think about it. Listen, I gotta run. I have to be on duty over at the hospital in an hour. See you tomorrow afternoon.” At the door she cheerily called back, “And have fun getting to know the terrain!”
Disgruntled, Libby didn’t respond, merely waving goodbye to her friend instead. Quiet settled around her. The odor of leather and soap permeated the air. She inhaled the reassuring smells as she continued to clean off her saddle and then the double bridle. About fifty Western saddles lined the left wall and equally as many English saddles covered the right. The wonderful aromas made this one of her favorite rooms. Her most favorite was the hay barn, with the fragrant clover-and-alfalfa hay stacked beneath the corrugated-aluminum roof. It was too bad the perfume industry couldn’t capture the essence, Libby thought. She, for one, would wear it religiously.
Without reason, Dan came to mind. He wasn’t a horse person. Probably not even a country boy. A city slicker, no doubt, she judged. He didn’t even own a pair of cowboy boots. With a smile, Libby shook her head. Jenny was wrong. The captain was merely being thorough about his new assignment. She liked that trait in a man. Thoroughness could save lives. The copilot who had killed Brad and his men hadn’t paid attention to such small details on the terrain map as the location of the power lines, and it had killed all of them. She sighed. Finished with her task, she walked outside and prepared to rub her gelding down.
As she snapped Shiloh into the cross ties—two chains hooked to either side of massive barn timbers—Libby fought her curiosity about Dan.
“Ramsey. You’ve got to call him Captain Ramsey,” she whispered to herself, picking up the rubber brush. Libby wondered what he would do for the rest of the day. Go back to an office he really didn’t want to be in? Go home? She felt for him, understanding all too well his love of fresh air and the outdoors.
* * *
“Dan, you’d better put your seat belt and crash helmet on,” Rose warned, sticking her head around his door.
Having just come in, Dan raised his brows. “I don’t like your tone, Rose. What’s coming down?”
“There’s a Lieutenant Wood on the phone from Trea[chsure Island, and he’s furious in capital letters. He’s a navy brig officer up there,” she added.
He nodded. “Okay, I’ll take the call in here, Rose. Did he say what it’s about?”
She looked down her glasses at him. “PFC David Shaw. The same kid I talked to you about the other day.”
“Okay.” Rose shut the door and he picked up the phone. “Captain Ramsey speaking.”
“This is Lieutenant Wood calling
