Reed when Colt hadn’t been. Unlike him, Stacy stuck around for her brother. “She’s especially concerned about me doing this therapy,” Ryan continued. “Our father was thrown from a horse on a movie set. That was how he died.” “And she’s letting you get on a horse? How did you talk her into that?” “It wasn’t easy, but she knows this is my best chance to walk on my own again.” Still, that took guts on her part. Then he thought about the movie Maggie was making, The Women of Spring Creek Ranch. “The movie she’s starring in is about female ranchers. Won’t she have to ride a horse for the movie?” “She said none of her scenes have anything to do with horses.” Ryan’s hands tightened on the walker handles. “Do you think you can help me get rid of this thing?” “A local physical therapist and I went over your doctor’s report to develop activities geared toward your physical issues. I can’t promise you’ll get rid of that thing by the end of your sessions, but I know we can help you.” “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here, cause you see people who are so worse off than me.” “Everyone has the right to get the most he can out of his life. We help whoever needs us whether it’s a little or a lot.” He motioned for Ryan to follow him. The tap-scrape of the walker echoed through the barn. “Being a teenager is tough enough without having to deal with medical issues. What were you into before the accident?” “I ran track and played basketball. My friends and I used to rock climb a lot.” The unsaid words hung in the air between them. And now they do, and I can’t. “I have a couple of good buddies who were hurt in Afghanistan. It’s a tough adjustment. It changed their lives completely.” Being there changed mine, too. Just not in the same way. “I’ll give you the fifty-cent tour,” he said to Ryan. “We’ll get some of the busy work out of the way. Then you can have your first session tomorrow.” Colt led Ryan into the tack room in the center of the barn where the shelves were stacked with helmets. He handed one to the teenager. “Try this on.” “I’m seventeen and have to use a walker. Now you want me to wear this? Dork of the month calendar, here I come.” The kid still had spirit. Good. That would work in his favor. “Sorry. It’s the rules. Every rider wears one.” Ryan tossed on the helmet and snapped the chin strap. “If a picture of me in this thing ends up on Facebook, I’ll kick your ass.” Colt laughed. “Fair enough.” Then he checked the fit. Two tries later, and they had the right one. “Our next step is picking out a horse for you. How tall are you? About five-eleven?” “I guess.” “I think you and Chance will get along well. Come on. I’ll introduce you.” They walked through the barn to the horse’s stall. The animal sauntered over and pressed his nose against the window bars. Colt rubbed the animal’s head. “You ever been on a horse before?” Ryan shook his head and moved closer to the stall. “Can I touch him?” Colt nodded, and explained what the therapy would entail. “You two are going to become good friends. You’ll be working on using your body to direct Chance. That will help you regain control of your own body.” “Ryan, where are you?” Stacy called out. “Over here,” Ryan responded. “We’re in the first row of horse stalls.” A minute later she joined them, but she shied away from the stall door, keeping as close to the larger open area as possible. “I see Jess loaned you some clothes.” Ones a bit too small for her. His daughter’s knit pants and T-shirt molded to Stacy’s lush figure, leaving no doubt about her feminine curves. A body like hers could make a man break out in a cold sweat and damned if Colt wasn’t doing just that. “This is Chance,” Ryan said as he stroked the gelding’s head. “Colt thinks he and I will do well together.” Stacy leaned