“I’ll never do it again. I know better now. I know lots of things better now.” She knuckled a tear away. “You can spank me if you want, and I won’t tell. I don’t want you to hate me.”

Michael crouched down, gave her a long, steady look. “Come here.”

Trembling, terrified at her images of humiliation and pain, she stepped forward. When he grabbed her, she muffled a cry of alarm, then was dazzled to find herself being hugged.

“You’re a stand-up gal, Blondie.”

He smelled of the horses. “I am?”

“Swallowing pride’s hell. I know. You did a good job.”

Full of wonder, she held on tight. It was like Granddad, or Uncle Josh, or Uncle Byron. But different, just a little different. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“No. You mad at me?”

She shook her head, and let the words tumble out. “I want to ride the horses, please. I want to come back and help you and feed them and brush them. I told Mama I was sorry, and I won’t sass her anymore. Don’t make me stay away.”

“How am I supposed to get things done around here without you? And Tess has already been missing you.”

She sniffed, eased back. “Has she? Really?”

“Maybe you’ve got time to say hi to her before you take off for school. But you want to get rid of these.”

He took out a bandanna. Ali, experiencing the thrill of having her tears dried by a man for the first time, fell headlong in love.

“Will you still give me riding lessons and teach me how to jump?”

“I’m counting on it.” He held out a hand. “Friends?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Michael. My friends call me Michael.”

He’d never been inside Templeton Monterey. Though Michael had grown up just up the coast, it wasn’t so odd. He’d never had a need for a hotel in the area, and if he had, Templeton would have been beyond his touch.

He’d been to the resort. After all, his mother had worked there. So he knew what to expect. Then again, he mused as he passed the uniformed doorman, you usually got more than you expected from Templeton.

The lobby was enormous, sprawling, with conversation and waiting areas tucked away behind potted palms and greenery to offer the cozy and the private. The bar, long and wide with generous chairs and gleaming tables, was up a short flight of stairs and separated by a trio of brass rails.

Those who wanted a little lift could enjoy their cocktail and watch the people come and go.

There were plenty of them, Michael noted.

They were six deep at check-in, flooding the long mahogany counter while clerks hustled to assign rooms. Two waitresses worked the waiting crowd and passed out glasses of fizzing water.

The noise was huge.