Free Love Mercy by Earlene Fowler Page B

week?”
    Mel nodded. “I’ll practice with opening and closing gates before then. I’m going over to August and Polly’s after this.”
    “You’re doing great, but riding a horse is like riding a bicycle. You need to do it enough that it becomes second nature. That’s the best way to avoid a wreck.”
    Ten minutes later, Mel had finished with the horse’s last hoof and was combing out his tangled mane when a man came strolling around the corner of the barn. She swore softly to herself. Grooming Redeye was her favorite part of her lessons with Benni, and she really preferred doing it alone. There was a certain rhythm to the brushing, combing, picking his hooves, checking his body for sore spots. Making another creature feel comfortable and calm seemed a worthwhile task and settled something inside her in an uncomplicated, peaceful way.
    So it annoyed her when the man, whistling an off-key tune, walked right up to her. He was average height, five eleven or so, middle to late forties, short brownish silver hair parted on the side, dark eyes. He had a self-assured, slightly aggressive walk that instantly gave him away. Cop or career military. Maisie’s dad, she guessed.
    “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked. He wore a faded plaid flannel shirt, jeans and round-toed brown boots. His black ball cap read Tulane University.
    “Fine.”
    “Is Maisie back here?”
    “Nope.” She continued to run the steel comb through Redeye’s mane. His accent had a drawl to it. Texas, she guessed.
    “Know where she went?” He squinted his coffee brown eyes against the warm afternoon sun and rested his hands on his hips. Though she hated that she noticed, he was attractive, good-looking in that Eddie Bauer-L.L. Bean male-model way. All he needed was a rake in his hand, a yellow Lab at his feet and a bar code across his feet.
    “Last I heard she was headed toward the house.”
    “No one’s in the house.”
    Mel shrugged. “That’s all I know.”
    She waited for him to go away, but he didn’t. She could feel the tension start in the pit of her stomach, reminding her of the feeling when she was a patrol officer, that millisecond she knew that the person she’d pulled over was going to be a pain in the ass.
    “You must be Mel,” he said, his voice friendly, deliberately ignoring her not-interested signals.
    “Yep.” She started vigorously working at a knotted place in Redeye’s mane. When she tugged too hard, the horse tossed his head in annoyance. “Sorry, boy,” she murmured.
    “You’re taking lessons from Benni too,” the man said. “Maisie talks about you all the time. Says you’re the bomb. That’s good, I think. But you’re young. I guess you’d know that. Actually, Maisie just talks all the time, so don’t take it personal. She used to be shy as a kid, then something happened when she hit puberty, and it’s been magpie city ever since. Sometimes I put on my Bose headphones and tell her I’m listening to music when all I’m doing is listening to the quiet. I’m her dad, by the way.” While he talked, he’d moved over to the other side of the horse.
    Mel peered at him over Redeye’s back, unsmiling. “Like daughter, like father.”
    Without missing a beat, he threw back his head and laughed. “Touché, Ms. Melina Jane LeBlanc. I’ve been known to bend someone’s ear once in a great while.”
    His use of her full name caused her neck to stiffen. She didn’t like it when someone knew more about her than she did about them. Then again, he was a cop and an obviously protective father, so it made sense that he’d do some checking on a person who was around his daughter, even peripherally. She reluctantly gave him credit for that. A parent couldn’t be too cautious these days, what with pedophiles on practically every street corner. Still, his familiarity grated on her nerves.
    She gave him a cool look. “That all you need, Maisie’s dad?”
    He grinned at her, a cocky smile that she was certain