Finding the Dream (Dream Trilogy 3)

He looked behind him, took in the slight young girl in the tidy blue dress and trendy Italian sneakers. "You're out early." Thoughtful, he leaned on his shovel. "No school today?"

"I don't have to leave for a little while." She glanced at her watch, folded her hands. The gestures were so like Laura's he had to fight back a smile.

"Something you want to say?"

"Yes, sir. I want to apologize for being rude, and for causing a family scene in front of you."

Little Miss Dignity, he thought, your chin's trembling. "Apology accepted," he said simply and bent to his work.

He was supposed to apologize now. It was, after all, the proper way to close a misunderstanding. When he didn't, her brows drew together. "I think you were also rude."

"I don't." He dumped the last load, propped up his shovel, then gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow. "Better move aside. You'll get your dress dirty."

"You raised your voice, you called me names."

He cocked his head. "And your point is?"

"You're supposed to say you're sorry."

He released the handles, brushed his hands over his jeans. "I'm not sorry. You deserved it."

"I'm not a brat." All her dignity crumbled, as did her face. "I didn't mean the things I said. I didn't mean to make her cry. She understands. She doesn't hate me."

"I know she understands. She loves you. A kid who has a mother like that in her corner's got everything. Pushing it away's pretty stupid."

"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."