Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)(57)

Dakota grinned. “Okay, I was actually talking about the reality of a single woman adopting. But sure, dealing with day care is important too.”

“You adopted when you were single.”

Dakota smiled at her daughter. “I did. I went international because I thought I’d have more luck. I have information on the organization and the orphanage, if you want it. One thing to consider is age. Do you want an infant or an older child? If you want a child over five or six, I would suggest you look in this country first. There are a lot of kids available to adopt. The odds go up if you’re not picky about ethnicity. You could also start as a foster parent. You know, for practice. In addition, there are private adoptions. However, I think you’ll have more trouble competing directly with couples.”

“I’ve thought about that, too,” Charlie admitted. “I hadn’t thought of an older child.” That might be better for her. Once a child could walk and talk, he or she would seem less breakable. Plus, the kid could tell her when she was messing up. That could be good.

“I need to think about this more,” she said, staring down at Jordan Taylor. “It’s complicated.”

“But worth it,” Dakota told her, hugging Hannah. “Aren’t you, baby girl?”

Hannah squealed and fell back into her mother’s arms. They tumbled onto the grass, Dakota tickling her daughter, who shrieked with delight.

Charlie watched them and knew she would figure out a way to have a family of her own. And if that family didn’t include a man, that was going to be okay, too.

* * *

ANNABELLE HUNG ON TO the saddle and did her best not to scream. “I can’t,” she said, hoping she didn’t look as scared as she felt.

“You’re perfectly safe. You’re not going to fall.”

“Easy for you to say,” she told Shane. “You’re standing on the ground. I know. We’ll trade. You sit up here while Khatar stands on his back feet and I’ll watch. Then I for sure won’t fall.”

Shane turned away, but not before she saw him smile.

“You think this is funny?” she demanded. “It’s not. Nothing about you trying to kill me is funny.”

“I’m not trying to kill you. I was giving the dance a fancy finish. I thought the crowd would like it.”

“No. What the crowd would like is me cutting out your heart. Let’s practice that.”

“I’m not your male sacrifice.”

“You seem to be heading in that direction.”

“Annabelle, you’re a good horsewoman. You have to have a little faith in yourself.”

“I do. It’s gravity I’m not so keen on.”

She didn’t understand. Somewhere between the last time she’d seen him and today, Shane had lost his mind. He’d started talking about what he’d been working on for the festival and how Khatar would rise up on his back legs right before the male sacrifice. Which sounded great. Until she’d realized she was supposed to be on the horse’s back when he did it.

“Do you know how high up I am already?” she asked.

“You’ll be fine.”

“You’re right. Because I’m not going to do it.”

Shane had removed his hat. It sat on the top of a post. So she could see his whole face, including the amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

“Just once. To try.”

“No!”

She should have known something was up when she’d seen that Khatar was already saddled. Half the time she rode the horse bareback.

“Think of the children,” he said quietly. “The children who don’t get to read all winter. And the shut-ins. Albert and Albus.”

“Albert and Alfred,” she corrected automatically. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty.”

“Want to bet?”

She glared at him, but dammit, he was right. She did have a responsibility and a big finish to the dance would help bring in more money. Maybe even get people talking enough that they wanted to see the dance again next year, thereby ensuring an income stream.

Her already upset stomach made a few threatening noises, but stayed in place. She glanced around, looking for escape. Only there wasn’t anywhere to go.

“I should have said I’d ride Priscilla,” she murmured. “That would be easier.”

“You’re going to be fine. Khatar will do all the work. You’re just along for the ride. What if you like it?”

“Why do you suddenly sound like a teenage boy trying to convince me to have sex?”

He laughed. “That would be your twisted mind at work, not mine. Come on. Grab hold of the saddle. Use both hands, if you want. You’ll feel better. Just don’t let the reins hang. We don’t want Khatar tripping.”

“You got that right,” she said, reaching for the front of the saddle. She gripped it as tightly as she could, then squeezed her legs for good measure and tried not to close her eyes.

“Good.” Shane turned his attention to the horse. “All right, big guy. You can do it.”

He led the horse through the steps, then moved back. “Tug back and up. Like I showed you. But not too hard.”

She whimpered as she did as he instructed. Khatar took two steps to the right, then left, finishing by rising up on his rear legs.