Certified Cowboy by Rita Herron

with a checkered past.
    And an ex who wanted her dead.
    Her stomach clenching, she scanned the horizon again, thought she saw something flicker in the sunlight on the hill to the east, then chastised herself for being paranoid. There were ranch hands and counselors everywhere. It was broad daylight.
    She and Kenny were safe.
    “There’s an old cowboy’s saying—‘If you give lessons in meanness to people or animals,’” Johnny said to the group of boys, “‘then don’t be surprised if they learn them.’”
    “What does that mean?” Kenny asked.
    Willie, the ten-year-old with the missing hand, piped up. “If you’re mean to animals, they’ll be mean to you.”
    “That’s right, Willie.” Johnny gave him a thumbs-up.
    “I’d never be mean to ’em,” Kenny said, brushing at his cowlick. “I like animals.”
    Rachel’s heart squeezed. Thankfully, her son had none of his father’s violent tendencies in him.
    “Good. Animals can sense if you like them or if you’re nervous,” he said. “If they’re intimidated or sense danger, they may bolt, kick or attack.” Johnny showed them how to slowly approach the animal, then lowered his voice and stroked the horse’s mane with his long, blunt fingers.
    His voice was as gentle as his touch, igniting a sense of wonder inside Rachel. Rex had been a charmer, but he snapped on a dime.
    Johnny was tough but maintained control. She’d seen photos of him bareback riding and wrestling a steer, and the man had plenty of brute strength. He just didn’t use it against women and children.
    The circle of boys watched intently as he demonstrated. “Each of our counselors will teach you how to saddle your own horse and groom them. Then we’ll ride around the pen so you can become comfortable in the saddle. Tomorrow we’ll take a short trail ride.”
    Kenny’s face lit up with excitement as the group divided up with their instructors. Rachel was relieved to see that Johnny kept Kenny with him. Not that she didn’t trust the other counselors, but Johnny was a pro.
    As she watched him with her son, a dull ache pressed against her breastbone. Kenny needed a man’s influence in his life.
    A man like Johnny.
    Would she ever be free to live her life without looking over her shoulder and being constantly on the run? Free to know that Kenny was safe? That Rex wouldn’t concoct some phony charges against her and lock her away so he could steal Kenny?
    Free to love again and build a home for her and her son?

    J OHNNY’S PULSE POUNDED at the torn expression in Rachel’s eyes. She loved her son dearly, but tension and fear lined her face.
    He wanted to ride in and rescue her from her problems, but she obviously had put a padlock on the gate to her heart.
    Those bruises rose in his mind to haunt him. Who had given them to her? An ex-boyfriend or lover? Her husband? Kenny’s father?
    The incident with the fencing struck him again, and his anxiety mounted. What if he tracked her here and cut the fencing to distract him? Because he wanted to get to Rachel?
    He led the Appaloosa around the pen a couple more times, then brought him to a halt and patted his side. “Good boy, Dusty.”
    “That was the mostest fun I’ve ever had.” Kenny leaned over and hugged the horse. “I love you, Dusty.”
    Johnny grinned, his heart melting at the sight of the boy’s face. This was what he’d been missing in his life. Purpose. Meaning.
    A family.
    Sure, he had Kim and Lucy, but that was different. He itched to have a son or a daughter of his own.
    Whoa…don’t go there, man.
    Not with this boy and his mother. Not when she has secrets in her eyes.
    Not when you know she’s told you lies.
    Not when she might have a husband somewhere hunting her.

    R ACHEL HATED ALL THE LIES . Lying to Johnny. To Ms. Ellen.
    And she hated that she’d forced her son to lie, too.
    What would her parents think of them now?
    Shame filled her. Kenny was so excited about the upcoming rodeo that he’d talked