Jessica stared, momentarily stunned by the exotic woman standing in the doorway. Skin the color of a cinnamon latte, a serene expression, large dark eyes fringed with long black lashes. A pale yellow scarf covered her head, the ends draped over one shoulder and secured with a gold brooch. An equally lovely young girl pressed against the woman's side, and Jess formed a mental image-the two, wrapped in silk and flowing chiffon, silhouetted against an ancient pyramid. So out of place in a horse barn.

Faith Angelo followed the newcomers into the small office, and Jess immediately noticed her partner's rigid features. An uneasy murmur threaded through her chest.

Faith gestured toward the young girl. "This is Dania. She wants to take riding lessons."

The strained tone of voice sent another blip across Jess's mental radar, but she rose quickly and moved from behind the desk.

"Hello, Dania."

The child stared at the floor, murmuring an unintelligible response.

Jess extended her hand to the woman. "I'm Jessica Rayder. Welcome to Easton Ridge."

"I am Zada Abbass Mahfood."

The woman's handshake was gentle and quick, her palm soft and cool. Several gold rings adorned each hand.

Jess smiled. "Would you like to tour the barn and meet the horses?"

Mrs. Mahfood turned to Dania and murmured a quick question in a musical language. The child nodded.

Zada's lukewarm smile emphasized the awkward atmosphere. "Yes, that would be fine."

Faith leaned against the doorjamb, well behind the visitors. She caught Jess's eye and frowned, shaking her head vigorously.

Jess kept a neutral expression. "How did you hear about us?"

A hint of Britain brushed Zada's perfect English. "My husband heard that your facility is very good, then last year, we met the famous Faith Angelo at the Silver Classic."

Jess smiled. "You've made a good choice. Follow me."

Out in the barn aisle, she turned to Dania. "Where do you go to school?"

The girl didn't answer, instead, turning dark eyes up to her mother's face.

"Dania attends the Muslim school outside Hartford."

Abandoning attempts to break through the girl's shyness, Jess started the barn-tour spiel.

"We have twenty-two horses here." Moving along the bank of solid oak stalls, she explained the routine. "Students are expected to learn how to care for their horses. The wash rack is over there, and this is the crosstie area where we groom." Dania seemed anxious about the idea, and Jess smiled. "We have a lot of fun here. We put on schooling shows, and we travel to organized events in other towns. We have several students your age."

Dania nodded solemnly.

Jess led the visitors through the north doors and into the sunshine. "During good weather, we use the open arena for lessons and shows. We have an indoor arena for winter work, though it needs some repair right now. Last year's blizzard caved in one corner of the roof." A band tightened around her chest. "We hope to be able to use it again by November."

Faith spoke up. "When did you want to start? I'm kinda bu-"

Jess threw her a warning look, then smiled at Dania. "You could start today, if you'd like."

The girl's huge eyes glowed and she nodded enthusiastically, her small pretty face beaming from the frame of her white head-scarf.

Faith's shoulders slumped, and she gestured toward the far end of the barn. "Okay, let's go find a pony that's just right for you."

Relieved, Jess turned to Zada. "I think that's our cue to get lost."

Confusion darkened the woman's eyes, and Jess hastened to reword the comment. "I mean, let's go back to the office and take care of the paperwork. I can answer any questions you might have."

Zada threw an uneasy glance at her daughter's retreating back, then followed without a word. In the office, she settled into a chair, smoothed her skirt, then folded her hands in her lap. Discomfiture sharpened her remarkable features, and Jess attempted to reassure her.

"She'll be fine, Mrs. Mahfood. Faith is wonderful with kids. Has Dania ever ridden a horse?"

"Once. We visited a farm in Massachusetts, and paid for a pony ride. She loved it."

Jess carefully kept her expression neutral. How would Faith be able to teach the unresponsive and over-protected girl? More important, how would Dania fit in with the others? A small ripple moved through Jess's chest. Kids could be so cruel to one another-they'd eat this little mouse alive.

A few minutes later, Zada handed over five crisp hundred-dollar bills. Jess forgot her concern about the girl's timid personality, and pushed a sheet of paper across the desk.

"Here's a list of things you'll need to buy for Dania. We have frequent schooling shows here at the farm during the year. Lesson money is due on the first of every month. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, may I stay and watch Dania when she takes her lesson?"

"Of course! We love parent involvement. Let's go see how they're doing."

Zada's features relaxed and she rose to follow Jess. In the aisle, Dania's excited voice rang out from the crosstie area.

"Umm! Umm!"

Excitement colored every unintelligible word she babbled.

"English, Habibi. You must speak English when you are here."

Zada bobbed her head in apology. "Sorry, she forgets."

Dania's exuberance bubbled. "This is Pete. Miss Faith says I may ride him every week! Insha'Allaah."

Jess grinned and shook her head. The universal addiction of little girls.

Late that afternoon, Faith dropped into the chair by the desk and let out a long sigh. "Man, I'm glad the day's over."

"How did Dania's lesson go? She's awfully quiet. I can't imagine how you'd be able to interact with her."

"Quiet? You have to be kidding! She never stopped chattering the whole time she rode the horse. The lesson went fine, except the mother hovered around, acting real protective, like she thought something might happen to the kid."

"It's probably a cultural thing. I'm sure Middle Eastern children aren't raised the way we were."

A shadow changed Faith's delicate features. "I'm kinda sorry I met them-I never dreamed they'd really show up for lessons. I feel creepy having foreigners hanging around here, especially A-Rabs."

"C'mon, that's not fair. You're judging them just because they look different than us."

"Well, ever since 9/11-"

Jess jumped up and scowled. "No, I don't want to hear that stuff! And don't think I missed your attempts to discourage them. Faith, we have a serious financial vacuum right now, and their money is as good as anyone else's. So get over it."

In the sudden quiet, Jess considered the essence of the brief disagreement. Both she and Faith had grown up in the melting pot of New England, and never gave a second thought to the diverse mix of people in the region. Though the devastating attacks on America had thoroughly shaken them both, with time, Jess had moved back into the familiar security of everyday life.

Apparently, Faith had not.

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