“We try to go snowboarding together at least once during the season.”
“And is everyone able to afford that?”
Steph frowned. “I never thought about it before. But Tyler and his friends . . . I’m not so sure.” She glanced at Brooke as if embarrassed. “I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.”
“Then can I make a suggestion? What about if you come here to ride? I can give lessons to those who don’t know how, and we can do a trail ride or even a sleigh ride.”
Steph grinned. “That sounds awesome!”
Brooke was surprised to find herself equally excited. She’d enjoyed giving the occasional lesson to barrel racers like Steph, and the chance to help improve the skills of other teenagers sounded like a good challenge.
The corral fence suddenly loomed in front of them in the snow, and she realized that the weather had grown too bad. “I think we’re going to have to cancel, Steph. I’m not sure you can even see the barrels.”
The teenager released a big sigh. “Guess you’re right.”
They guided their horses in a circle and headed back the way they’d come. Brooke trusted the horses to find their way if things got worse.
Back in the barn, after rubbing down and oating the horses, then putting away the tack, Brooke insisted Steph couldn’t drive in that weather, so the girl came inside for dinner and some Trivial Pursuit before the weather had cleared enough for her to drive home. It was an old game, but Brooke had grown up playing it.
After Steph was gone, Sandy sat at the dining-room table and studied her. “You were really good with her.”
Brooke blinked in surprise and pleasure as she picked up a bowl now empty of chips. “What do you mean? She’s a nice kid—what was difficult about it?”
“I don’t know, but some people can be impatient—including Steph herself—but when she got frustrated about not knowing a lot of the answers in the game, you were able to head off any problems. You’d have been a good teacher.”
“Why . . . thanks,” Brooke said. “Dealing with teenagers one-on-one isn’t so bad. I can’t imagine controlling a whole class of kids.”
Sandy grinned. “Guess you’ll find out if the Chess Club takes you up on your offer.”
“Didn’t I tell you you’re in charge that day?” Brooke teased.
Sandy waved a finger at her. “Not this time, sweetie. You’re on your own.”
The next afternoon, Adam was getting a lesson from Josh on repairing leather tack when Nate came into the workshop looking for him.
“You could have called my cell,” Adam said, smiling as he rose to his feet. “What can I . . .” His voice trailed off as two other men crowded behind Nate, trying to see in.
“You’ve got guests,” Nate said, wearing a wry grin.
“Hey, Adam!” one of them called over Nate’s shoulder.
Adam thought he recognized them, but the light from the workshop didn’t quite reach, and he didn’t want them crowding Josh and asking questions.
“We can finish up later,” Josh said. “You go have fun with the boys.”
Nate and Josh seemed to know something he didn’t. But he wiped his hands on a rag and went out into the open area of the barn between stalls.
“Remember these guys?” Nate asked in a dry tone of voice.
“It’s Derek and Chad,” said one man, reaching out to shake Adam’s hand.
“Derek and Chad,” Adam repeated, shaking the other man’s hand, too. They weren’t from his football-playing days but from before, when he’d been joyriding in cars and getting in trouble. He’d avoided them junior and senior year, when the two of them had been tag-teaming each other in detention and even the occasional suspension. Who was he to assume they hadn’t straightened out in the past ten years?
Nate excused himself with a touch to the brim of his Stetson, buttoned up his coat, and left the barn, closing the door behind him.
Adam turned to the two men. “What can I do for you guys?”
“Nothing,” Derek said. “We just heard you were in town and thought we’d be neighborly.” He had dark hair that crossed a line into a mullet, curling out from beneath the back of his baseball cap.
Chad constantly smoothed the patch of sparse brown hair on his chin and gave a nervous twitch of his shoulders. “So you’re out of the Marines?”
“Yep.”
“Had enough killing?” Derek asked.
Adam frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”
“Oh, we know you were ‘serving your country’ and all that,” Chad added. “But it’s gotta be tough.”