supposed to work, but obviously it didnât.â When the tears started to sting her eyes, she blinked them back. âHeâs idolized you since he first met you at the Tucson rodeo. He was five years old. You paid attention to him, listened to him, and you gave hima red bandana. Heâs never forgotten that, and one of the things that kept him going was his dream of coming to the Wheelchair Rodeo.â
âIâm honored, butââ
Beth held up an index finger. âOh, thereâs much more. Ever since then, heâs watched bull riding constantly on TV, looking for you, cheering you on. When he was in the hospital, he fought to stay awake to watch you being interviewed on Letterman during one of his hospital stays. Your fan club sent him a special autographed picture that has never left his sight. He wears your clothes. His room is covered in pictures of Jake Dixon. He thinks youâre the greatest thing since school recess.â
Jake met her gaze. âI donât know what to say.â
âYou can promise me that youâll be the hero he thinks you are.â
Jake stared down at the floor. âI canât promise that.â
He shifted from foot to foot, and Beth sensed that he wanted to get as far away from her as possible.
âIâm just a cowboy. Thatâs all. I can guarantee you that heâll have a good time at the ranch. I can teach him how to ride and rope and cook over a campfire, but if he needs a hero, heâd best look up to Jimmy Watley or Clint Scully or another cowboy.â
âBut itâs you he idolizes.â
He shook his head as if he were shaking her words out, and walked toward Kevin, his boots making dull clicking noises on the cement.
She trailed behind him. Nobodyâs hero? Kevin was only one little boy among thousands who worshiped the ground he walked on. He was the primary reason whyKevin worked so hard to get better. âJake Dixon is tough, Mom. I am, too,â Kevin had told her.
She owed Jake Dixon. She owed him a lot.
âHave you picked one out yet?â Jake said to Kevin. âRemember, you have to take care of the horse all week. That means brushing, feeding, watering and taking care of the tack. Got it?â
âI can do it, Jake. I promise!â
âThen who will it be, Kev?â Jake asked.
âKiller.â
Beth closed the distance between them. âKiller?â
âActually, his full name is Killer Bee, but we call him Killer for short,â Jake explained.
That didnât make her feel any better. She didnât want Kevin riding on a horse named Killer, even if it was a cute black horse with soulful black eyes.
She would have called him Thunder, like another fictional horse of her childhood sheâd discovered in a library book. Her Thunder was a shiny, black horse with four white socks. She read the book over and over again until she just about had it memorized.
She looked over the stall door to see if Killer Bee had white socks. He didnât, but he was still a beautiful horse.
Kevin fidgeted in his chair. âWill you take him out of the stall, Jake? I want to look at him all over.â
âOkay, Kev.â
With Kevin on the edge of his seat, Jake led Killer Bee out of his stall.
The horse sniffed at Kevinâs shirt as the boy giggled and reached out to pet him. âJust think,â said Kevin, âheâs mine for a week.â
Jake raised an eyebrow, met Bethâs eyes and waited for her reply.
She took a deep breath and prayed that she wouldnât regret her decision. Kevinâs doctor felt that the horseback riding would be good for him, would strengthen his muscles. That would be wonderful for his broken body, but she knew that the Gold Buckle Ranch experience would do even more for Kevinâs morale.
âYes, Kevin. Heâs yours while we are here. Make sure you listen to Mr. DixonâJakeâand learn how to take care of