discovered that if a day passed without her poking her head into the stables, he felt deprived.
Her mother, on the other hand, was keeping her distance. He hadn't seen her in three days, since the night of the country club dance.
"Mama's going to get me drawing lessons, and that'll be fun because I like to draw pictures. I can draw you one if you want."
"I'd like that." He sent her a quick smile. "What would you draw for me?"
"A surprise." She beamed at him. Big people didn't always really listen, Kayla knew. Mr. Fury always listened, even when he was busy. "Do you have time to teach Bongo a trick?"
"I might." Michael tapped the dampened water brush in his palm as he studied the pup, who was currently sprawled on the brick eyeing one of the cats. "I've got to put this lady through her paces first, though. Got somebody coming by to look at her."
Kayla's bottom lip poked out as she reached up to smooth the mare's glossy flank. "To buy her?"
"Maybe." Understanding, he crouched down. "She needs a good home. Like Bongo did."
"You're a good home."
He didn't think this called for an explanation of business, the profit-and-loss ledgers that often made him cross-eyed. So he kept it simple. "I can't keep them all, honey. What I do is take good care of them while they're here and look for people who'll take care of them when they're not. And your mom's the one who found these people. You know Mrs. Prentice?"
"She's nice." Kayla gnawed on her lip as she considered. She did like Mrs. Prentice—she had a fun laugh. "Her daughter rides horses. Mandy's fourteen and has a boyfriend."
"Does she?" Amused, Michael tousled Kayla's hair. "If they like the lady here, and she likes them, she'll be their horse. Do you think Mandy would take good care of her?''
"I guess so."
"Let's take her out to the paddock, you and me."
"I'll get her blanket. I'll get it."
While Kayla raced off, he made a final check of his lady. She was a pretty chestnut hack, her coat gleaming now from his meticulous work with brush and currycomb. Her eyes were clear, intelligent, her heart strong, her hooves healthy and smartly presented, with a coating of oil. At fifteen hands she was a good size, well lined, a cooperative, well-behaved animal who would bring him a good profit on his investment.
He was, he knew as he stroked her neck, going to miss the hell out of her.
Together, he and Kayla saddled the mare, with Kayla watching every move carefully. She hoped that one day Mr. Fury would let her hook the cinches, but she didn't want to ask. Yet.
"Where's Ali today?"
"Oh, she's in her room. She has to clean it and finish all her homework. She can't come outside today because she's being punished."
"What did she do?"
"She had another fight with Mama." With the dog at her heels, Kayla skipped along beside Michael as he led the mare out. "She's mad because our dad's marrying Mrs. Litchfield and he's not going to go to the father-daughter supper at school. She says it's Mama's fault."
"How does she figure that?"
"I don't know." Kayla shrugged her shoulders. "She's silly. Uncle Josh is going to the supper, and he's more fun anyway. Our dad doesn't like us."
The careless tone caused Michael to stop, glance down. "Doesn't he?"
"No, but that's okay because…" She trailed off, bit her lip. "It's bad."
"What is, darling?"
She looked behind her toward the house, then back into Michael's eyes. "I don't like him, either. I'm glad he went away and that he's not coming back. But don't tell Mama."
Now there was alarm, and beneath it a silvery rush of defense. "Honey." He crouched down, taking her little shoulders carefully in his hands. "He didn't hurt you, did he? He didn't hit you or your sister?'' Even the thought of it churned in his gut like acid. "Or your mom?"
"No." She seemed so baffled by the idea. Michael relaxed again. "But he never listens and he never plays and he made Mama cry, so I don't like him. But don't tell."