"Well, you were wrong, weren't you? And it isn't your concern one way or the other. Now, where are the girls?"
He vibrated with impotence, with the rage of not being able to help or hinder. With a shrug, he turned on his heel. "In the paddock."
"Alone?" Visions of calamities raced through her head even as she dashed toward the stables. When she saw them in the paddock, fear turned to shock.
Her daughters were happily riding in circles on a pair of patient quarter horses.
"I haven't got them jumping through flaming hoops yet or doing flips," Michael said dryly. The woman, he thought, was an open book. "That's next week."
"Aren't they great?" Annoyance with him vanished as she gripped his arm and watched. "Ali's trotting. She posts so well already."
"I told you she was a natural. Kayla," he called out, "heels down."
Her little boots adjusted immediately and, like the pup, she looked over for approval. "Mama! Look, Mama, I can ride!"
"You sure can!" Thrilled, Laura moved to the fence, hooked one foot on the bottom rung. "You both look fabulous."
Her head high, Ali trotted over and drew her mount to a polite stop. "This is Tess. She's three. Mr. Fury says she's a very good jumper, and that he'll teach me."
"She's beautiful, Ali. You look beautiful on her."
"That's why I want her. I can buy her with my own money. I can take it out of my savings." Her eyes tilted down in challenge. "It's my money."
Had been, Laura thought wearily. Peter had taken it, along with the college fund. And she hadn't nearly begun to replace the loss. "A horse is a very big responsibility, Ali. It's not just the buying, it's the keeping."
"We have the stables." She'd thought about this, dreamed about this for days. "I can feed her, and pay for the hay with my allowance. Please, Mama."
Now a headache brewed nastily in the fog of fatigue. "Ali, I can't think about this right now. Let's wait and—"
"Then I'll ask my father." Ali jerked her chin up even as her lips trembled. "I'll call him and ask him."
"You can certainly call him, but he doesn't have anything to do with this."
"You had a horse when you were a girl. You had anything you wanted, but you always tell me to wait. You never understand when something's important. You never understand."
"Fine. All right. I'm not going to fight with you now." Because she was going to break, could already feel the first fissures forming, Laura turned and walked away.
"Get off the horse, Ali." When her stormy eyes came to his, Michael reached over for the bridle. "Dismount. Now."
"I haven't finished my lesson."
"Yeah, you have. Now you're going to get another one." The minute she hit the ground, he wrapped the reins around the fence rail, then plucked the girl up and sat her beside them so his gaze was level with hers. "Do you think you have the right to talk to your mother that way?"
"She doesn't listen—"
"No—you don't listen, and you don't see. But I listened, and you want to know what I heard?" He jerked her chin up when it drooped. "I heard a spoiled, ungrateful brat sassing her mother."
Her teary eyes went wide with shock. "I'm not a brat."
"You just gave a damned good imitation. You think you can snap your fingers and get whatever you want or have a tantrum if it doesn't happen, or doesn't happen quick enough to suit you?''
"It's my money," Ali said hotly. "She doesn't have any right to—"
"Wrong. She's got all the rights. Your mother just came home from working her butt off so that you can have a nice home and food on the table. So you can have your lessons and your fancy school."
"I've always lived here. She doesn't have to work. She just goes away every day."
"Open your eyes." Something, he admitted, he should have done himself. "You're old enough and smart enough to see what she's going through."