“I know. I know, honey. Lie down.” Fussy as a mother hen over a sick chick, she smoothed the covers over her friend. “Sleep.” She sat on the side of the bed, took Laura’s hand.

“I used to dream about the way things would be. So perfect. So lovely.”

“Shh,” Kate murmured even as Laura’s voice trailed off. “Dream about something else. Find a new dream.”

“Is she out?” Margo said from the doorway.

“Yeah.” Kate sniffled and wiped her cheek. And thought of the child inside her. Of the man she’d loved and married, who already cherished it, and her. “I hate Peter fucking Ridgeway.”

“Stand in line.” Margo stepped in to lay a hand on Kate’s shoulder. “When she walked back in, she looked so . . . broken. I could kill him for putting that look in her eyes.”

“Stand in line,” Kate echoed. “She’ll be all right. We’ll make sure of it.”

Laura’s mind was still fuzzy with fatigue when she returned home. She thought briefly about a long, steaming bath, cool, smooth sheets, and oblivion. But she needed her children, and needed them badly.

She found them, as she’d expected to, at the stables. Bongo greeted her first, racing forward with his tongue lolling out in a grin. He skidded to a halt at her feet, promptly sat his rump down, and lifted a paw.

“What’s this?” Charmed, she crouched down to shake. “Trick dog. Michael’s been playing with you. What else can you do, huh? Can you lie down?”

He flopped down into the prone position instantly, looking up for approval, and the expected biscuit.

“Can you roll over? Play dead?”

“We’re still working on that.” Michael strolled over and to Bongo’s relief offered him a biscuit. “You’ve always got to pay for the show,” he said to Laura.

“The girls must be thrilled.”

“They’re teaching him the rollover. He’s making progress.” But his eyes were on Laura’s, and the shadows under them. “You just getting back?”

“Um. I came down to see the girls and to get a look at the foal. How’s she doing?”

“She’s doing great, which is more than I can say for you.” The frustration and annoyance he’d pent up all day spewed out in rough words. “Are you crazy, going to work a full day on no sleep? You might have nodded off behind the wheel and killed yourself on Highway 1.”

“I had meetings.”

“That’s bullshit, Laura. Just bullshit. What’s going on around here? What’s this crap about you letting Ridgeway walk with your money and you holding down two jobs to pay the bills?”