Montana Hearts by Darlene Panzera

know me, how is he supposed to trust me?” he demanded.
    â€œPrince is very well trained,” Sammy Jo assured him. “He’ll bow down for anyone. And he might not know you, but he knows and trusts me. I’ve been working with him for years.”
    In the past, Luke had always been the first one to sign up for any new crazy adventure, always believing he could do most anything. But after a ­couple of his friends in the military were killed in what was supposed to be a routine helicopter training exercise and he later tore his ACL in the motorcycle accident, he’d been forced to come to grips with the fact that he wasn’t invincible. None of them were. And if he wasn’t careful he’d end up in a coffin like his buddies.
    â€œYou did talk to your father?” Luke asked, stalling for time.
    She nodded. “Yes, I did.”
    â€œAnd what did he say about expediting our permits?”
    She gave him an agitated look. “I’ll tell you after you keep your promise. Now give Prince the cue by saying, ‘Bow.’ ”
    Luke stiffened. “You already ran through the procedure once, you don’t need to tell me again. I heard you the first time.”
    Sammy Jo bit her lip, then stepped back and nodded. “Of course. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
    Her sudden, submissive tone filled him with remorse. “Sorry, Sammy Jo. I didn’t mean to bark at you. Jeez, I sound like my father more and more every day.”
    â€œYou’re nothing like him,” she said loyally.
    Luke held her gaze. “I’m afraid I am.”
    His father often sent confusing messages. Some days it seemed as if he truly cared, and other days not so much. Luke didn’t want to send any confusing messages to Sammy Jo. He wanted to be as up front, straightforward, and honest as he could.
    â€œA deal is a deal,” he told her. “So here goes.” Then he turned toward the horse beside him and said, “Prince, bow.”
    The horse pulled his left front leg in, then dropped his head and shoulders low to the ground so that the saddle was only a few feet off the ground. Luke placed his weight on his good leg, grabbed hold of the saddle horn with his left hand, and hesitated. Should he drop or hold on to his cane?
    Sammy Jo lurched forward. “I can take—­”
    â€œNo.”
    She stepped back, again biting her lip as if she realized she’d said too much, or regretted saying anything at all.
    Here he was, making her feel bad again. “I meant,” he said, forcing a grin, “I’ve got it handled.”
    â€œOf course you do,” she agreed, her eyes wide. She looked as if she were holding her breath and her knuckles were white as she clasped her hands in front of her. Probably praying this worked, although he still had to figure what she hoped to gain from it all.
    â€œGo big or go home” had always been his motto, so he dropped his cane on the ground and prepared to mount. Tightening his hold on the saddle horn, he used his upper body strength to brace himself. Then he lifted his leg over the horse and winced as a sharp pain shot through his knee, up his leg to his head, and burned behind his eyes, nearly blinding him. For a moment all he saw was stars.
    Then the pain subsided and his vision cleared. He gave the command, “Up!” and the horse rose to his full height in one swift, smooth move.
    Luke gasped, his stomach tight, as he realized . . . he couldn’t use his injured leg to press against the horse’s side to keep himself balanced. If he hadn’t grabbed on to the horse’s mane and readjusted his weight at the last minute, he might have fallen off.
    â€œAre you okay?” Sammy Jo asked, her voice filled with concern, then she cupped her hand over her mouth. “Of course you are. You’ve got it handled.”
    She didn’t sound as confident as her words implied. Luke