Norm had followed his wife a few months later, dying of “complications” after minor surgery. Although the online obit hadn’t said so, Shallie figured he’d been felled by a combination of grief and that bottom-shelf vodka.

In both cases, she’d sent brief notes of condolence, first to Norm and Russ, and then to Russ alone, accompanied by small checks. She hadn’t enclosed a phone number, however, or given a return address.

She had, in fact, gone so far as to mail both envelopes to a friend in Oklahoma City, who’d sent them on so they wouldn’t bear a Seattle postmark.

Silly, she thought now. It wasn’t as if any of the Schafers would have bothered to track her down and force her to come back into their lives.

In the end, only Shallie herself, odd girl out, forever underfoot, treated as an inconvenience when she’d been noticed at all, had escaped the glum legacy of Norm and Della Schafer and their combined neuroses. How had that happened?

Okay, yes, she hadn’t emerged entirely unscathed; she had issues, and some of them stemmed directly from things that had happened right here, but at least she hadn’t been trapped, like Russ, or irreparably damaged, like poor Bethanne—as it now appeared.

For whatever reason, Shallie had not only survived, she’d thrived, for the most part. She’d made some stupid mistakes, especially in the beginning, but she’d eventually gotten her act together after fleeing the town of Painted Pony Creek and this dump of a motel.

She’d come a long way…and she’d managed to create a life pretty much on her own terms. She’d landed in Seattle, after knocking around for six months or so, found a job—cleaning in a hotel (she’d certainly had the experience!)—and a room in a decent boardinghouse. Later, she’d put herself through art school and now worked as an illustrator; she’d saved her money, made friends, been married to a good man, even though that marriage had ended in divorce, and developed a passion for horses. Her best friend, Emma Grant, ran a therapeutic riding program for kids with physical and/or emotional challenges, just outside Seattle, and Shallie had spent every spare hour volunteering there and loved it. She and Emma had discussed how she might quit her graphic arts job and then they’d become business partners; she was currently on an unpaid three-month leave so she could explore that option—and pursue the other reason she was here…

The horses and the children had taken her out of herself, healed her in the broken places, taught her courage and persistence and the power of gentle persuasion.