Winning the Cowboy's Heart. Jeannie Watt

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didn’t budge. “Why was Broomtail a mistake?”

      “She’s a very unpleasant mare most of the time.”

      “Most of the time? But she seemed…” Regan’s voice trailed off as several aspects of her experience with Broomtail began to make more sense—the mare’s lethargic attitude, followed by a display of impatience. Charley glancing anxiously at his watch.…

      Will saw that she’d caught his meaning.

      “He gives her enough tranquilizer to make her less cranky and more salable. We had a chat the other night. I don’t think he’ll be doing it again in the near future.” He gestured to the classroom. “My daughter?”

      Regan moved to her door and pulled it open, her mind still working over the Broom-tail issue. Kylie stumbled out a bit too fast, but the brand inspector didn’t seem surprised by his daughter’s sudden appearance.

      “Let’s go,” he said. He met Regan’s eyes for a brief moment as he pushed the glass door open. Kylie slipped out under his hand and Will followed, letting the door swing shut behind him.

      Regan gave her head a slow shake. It sounded as if Kylie was right. Her dad had rescued her.

      “WERE YOU EAVESDROPPING on us?” Will asked as he put the truck in gear.

      “I couldn’t hear through the door.

      “I’ll take that to be a yes.”

      “Dad,” Kylie said seriously. “I like to know what’s going on, if it concerns me.”

      “It didn’t concern you.”

      “Yeah. I figured.”

      “How?”

      “You guys didn’t even look at me when I went by.”

      Will told her to knock off the eavesdropping, but he was impressed. His kid was observant, which was why she was good with horses. She could read cues. It was a valuable skill, one she seemed to be more talented at applying to people than he was. A bit of her mother coming through there.

      “Something wrong, Dad?”

      Will shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

      “What are we eating tonight?”

      He gave the standard answer. “Beef…”

      “It’s what’s for dinner.” They spoke in unison, mimicking an old ad slogan from the Beef Council.

      One of these days she’d probably grow tired of the games and routines they’d started when she was younger, but he still had a few years left. He hoped. Kids seem to grow up so fast.

      “Anything else?”

      “No,” he said facetiously. “Just beef.”

      “Good. I was tired of vegetables, anyway.”

      “How was school?”

      “You didn’t hear from anyone, did you?” It would have been funny, if she hadn’t been serious.

      “No.”

      “Then it was fine.”

      “Kylie.”

      She grinned. “Gotcha.”

      He rolled his eyes, wondering if he was ready for the approaching teenage years. Somehow he didn’t think so. He was still debating how to handle certain matters that would have to be cropping up soon. He wasn’t squeamish about girls’ growth issues, just uninformed. Okay, maybe he was a little squeamish. He was hoping he could get Beth Grant, Kylie’s best friend’s mom, to help with that part of Kylie’s upbringing. It wasn’t exactly fair, but neither was growing up without a mother. Father and daughter both had to do the best they could.

      He pulled to a stop in front of the house and reached over the back of the seat for the bag of groceries.

      “I see carrots.”

      “There’s worse stuff below that. Spinach, beets, spuds and corn.”

      “I liked the just-beef plan better.”

      “I’m sure you did, but veggies are a fact of life.”

      A STORM WAS MOVING IN. A full moon was in the offing. In Regan’s experience, those were usually the best explanations for the off-the-wall behavior of her classes on such a day.

      Jared, the new guy, Pete’s long-term PE sub, stood in the hall with her. “I’m whipped,” he said. “I usually teach elementary. Now I know why.”

      “This age grows on you.”

      “When?”

      Regan smiled at his comeback and he returned the smile crookedly. The bell rang and Jared exhaled and headed for his class.

      Regan managed to keep a lid on things until sixth period, near the end of the day. Kylie’s class. Regan was teaching observation skills and since kids love nothing better than something gross and slimy, she’d invested in several calamari. The lesson was good—she’d simply picked the wrong day to teach it.

      The trouble started as soon as the students were released to start their lab.

      “Hey, Sadie,” one of the boys called, holding up his squid. “Doesn’t this look a lot like a spider?

      The girl immediately turned pale and stared straight down at the table. The boy wiggled the squid and a few students laughed, until they saw the look of death in Regan’s eyes. It had been a long day and she was not going to put up with this. She walked over to the offending student, took his books, led him to a desk and told him to read chapter two of his textbook, outline it and then answer all questions at the end.

      She moved back to Sadie, who was still staring down at the floor with Kylie beside her, and discovered that the girl did indeed have a major fear of spiders. Regan assured her that the squid was not a spider and that she could observe it from a comfortable distance. “No one will bother you.”

      A quick look around the class told her that everyone had gotten her message—or so she’d thought—until the students filed out after the quietest lab of the day and she realized that one of her specimens was missing.

      She didn’t need it—her final class was social studies—but she couldn’t have an unauthorized squid floating around the school. She hated to think of what might happen if it fell into the wrong hands. She had to find that cephalopod.

      Then a shriek in the hall gave her a good of idea of where to look. She hurried to the door and pushed her way through a throng of kids to see three people in the center of the hall—Pete Domingo, Sadie and Kylie. The missing squid lay on the floor near Pete’s feet.

      “Pick it up.” He was talking to Sadie.

      Sadie’s face was ashen. She shook her head, looking as if she was about to

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