“I guess I did. Are you all right?”

“She never even looked at me, really. Foolish was going to bite her.”

“He’s a wonderful dog.” When he leaped on her now, she pressed her face into the warmth of his neck. “He’s a fabulous dog.”

“But you knocked her down. Sybill knocked her right on her butt,” he shouted as Phillip and his brothers walked over.

“So I saw.” Phillip put a hand to her cheek. “Nice going, champ. How do you feel?”

“I feel . . . fine,” she realized. No cramping, no chills, no sick headache. “I feel just fine.” Then she blinked as Seth threw his arms around her.

“You were great. She’s never coming back. You scared the shit out of her.”

The bubbly little laugh that rose into her throat caught her by surprise. Leaning down, she buried her face in Seth’s hair. “Everything’s just the way it’s supposed to be now.”

“Let’s go home.” Phillip slid his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s all go home.”

“HE’S GOING TO be telling that story for days,” Phillip decided. “Weeks.”

“He’s already embellishing on it.” Amazingly serene, Sybill walked with Phillip by the water’s edge while the heroic Foolish romped in the yard behind them with Simon. “The way he tells it now, I beat Gloria to a pulp and Foolish lapped up the blood.”

“You don’t sound all that displeased by it.”

“I never knocked anyone down before in my life. Never stood my ground that way. I wish I could say I did it all for Seth, but I think part of it was for me, too. She won’t come back, Phillip. She lost. She is lost.”

“I don’t think Seth will ever be afraid of her again.”

“He’s home. This is a good place.” She turned in a circle to take in the trim house, the woods going deep with twilight, the last sparkle of the sun on the water. “I’ll miss it when I’m back in New York.”

“New York? You’re not going for a while yet.”

“Actually, I’m planning on going back right after the hearing next week.” It was something she’d made up her mind on. She needed to resume her own life. Staying longer would accomplish nothing but adding to the emotional mess.

“Wait. Why?”

“I have work.”

“You’re working here.” Where did the panic come from? he wondered. Who pushed the button?

“I have meetings with my publisher that I’ve put off. I need to get back. I can’t live in a hotel forever, and Seth’s settled now.”

“He needs you around. He—”

“I’ll visit. And I’m hoping he’ll be allowed to come see me occasionally.” She’d worked it all out in her head, and now she turned to smile at him. “I promised to take him to a Yankees game next spring.”

It was as if it were already done, he realized, struggling against that panic. As if she were already gone. “You’ve talked to him about it.”