“No.” Laura’s lips curved again. “It’s not an excuse. Fact is, I’m seriously considering asking my boss at the hotel for a raise. I’m damned good.”

“Granddad would give you one.”

“Templetons don’t pull rank.”

“Can I come with you to the hotel one day and watch you work? I like going to the shop, but I’ve never gone to your other office.”

“I’d like that.” She stepped forward, brushed a hand over Ali’s hair. “It’s never too soon to start training the next generation in the Templeton organization.”

Settled again, Ali rested her head on her mother’s breast. “I love you, Mama.”

It had been, Laura thought, much too long since she’d heard those words. There were birds singing in the garden, she realized. And the little fountain was playing musically. The air was soft, and her child was in her arms.

Everything would be all right.

“I love you, Ali.”

“I won’t sass you anymore, or be a brat or say things to make you cry.”

Of course you will, Laura thought, settling herself. You’re growing up. “And I’ll try not to make excuses.”

Smiling, Ali lifted her head. “But I’m still not going to like Mrs. Litchfield, and I’m never, ever going to call her mama.”

“Oh, I think I can live with that.” Eyes gleaming wickedly, Laura bent down. Woman to woman. “I’ll tell you something, just between you and me. I don’t like her either.” She traced her finger over Ali’s lips when they bowed up. “Are we better now?”

“Uh-huh. Mama, everyone said our home was broken, but they were wrong. It’s not broken at all.”

Laura tucked her daughter under her arm and looked across the gardens to Templeton House. “No, it’s not. We’re not. We’re just fine, Ali.”

It wasn’t an easy thing for a young girl with a great deal of pride to take the first step. Though it had troubled her, and kept her awake a long time during the night, Ali hadn’t told her mother what Michael had said to her. Or how it had made her feel.

She wasn’t sure what her mother would have done, or said, but she did know when you’d done something wrong, you were supposed to fix it.

She’d gotten up early and dressed for school, then slipped out the side door to avoid any questions. Old Joe was here this morning, humming to his azaleas. Ali cautiously skirted that section of the garden and made her way toward the stables.

She had her speech all worked out, and she was very proud of it. She thought it was mature, dignified, and clever. She was certain that Mr. Fury would nod wisely, impressed, after she was done.