She narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes I really hate you.”

He smiled a bit. “I get that a lot.”

Nothing could solidify that rock in Courtney’s throat like shifting her thoughts from her own losses to the potential of losing Rory. She loved that goofy kid! And Amber might seem dorky, but Courtney knew in her heart that far more than dorky, she was sincere and loving and devoted to her family.

And to Courtney.

The very next day at lunch Courtney asked Amber, “Do you ever worry about maybe losing Rory?”

Amber chewed and swallowed and said, “All the time. It’s not even a maybe—if some wonderful, scientific thing doesn’t happen, we will lose him. And it kills me.”

“Does he know that?” she asked.

“Of course he does. He’s been in the chair two years—you think he hasn’t asked what it all means? Little booger is smart, you know that. He knows more about his disease than the doctors, I think.”

“Isn’t he scared?”

“Sometimes, but he knows it won’t hurt. He knows it will only hurt the ones like us who will have to miss him.”

Courtney shook her head. “How do you do that? Talk about it without crying?”

She shrugged. “We already did the crying.”

The next day was a rare sunny March day and Courtney’s riding lesson was on. She was getting very good on Blue; she could not only move her around expertly and perform a thorough grooming right down to the hooves, but she’d actually washed her down a couple of times.

After her lesson, Lilly Tahoma invited her to ride along the trail with her for a half hour or so before Lief picked her up. Blue was Lilly’s horse, but she let Courtney keep her and took one of the other stable horses.

Lilly yammered about how the green growth of spring was beginning to peek through, especially in the foothills, and they were enjoying one or two warm days every week. “And the snow pack in the mountains is beginning to melt, so watch yourself around the river—it will swell. Courtney?”

“Hm?” Courtney said, turning her attention back to Lilly.

“Did you hear what I said about the river?”

“No, what?”

“The snow pack in the mountains is beginning to melt. You should mind the river—it could swell and even flood.”

“Okay,” she said.

“You’ve been so quiet. Is there something on your mind?”

“Hm? No, nothing…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you should never be dishonest. Just say ‘it’s personal’ and that will do it.”

“No, there’s nothing,” she insisted.

“Old Hopi saying—When you lose your temper, you lose a friend. When you lie, you lose yourself.”

And Courtney shot back, “When you’re nosy, you irritate people.”

Lilly chortled. “What is most fun about you, you have the face of a young girl and the sharp mind of a wizard. I apologize. I didn’t mean to pry or offend. You’re right to correct me.”

Courtney sighed. “Sometimes I just flip out. Sorry. I’ve been worrying about things. One of them is my best friend’s little eight-year-old nephew who has muscular dystrophy. He’s in a wheelchair and seems to be doing fine right now, but it’s not good, you know?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Sometimes life can seem so cruel.”

“No kidding.”

“How is your friend handling it?”

“She’s handling it fine! I’m not doing so great with it.”

“Oh, Courtney, there’s an adjustment to news like that. Don’t be hard on yourself.”

“Well, it’s not that I’m hard on myself,” she said. “You know my mother died, right? I mean, even though I never tell anyone, everyone seems to know.”

“I knew, yes. I believe your father mentioned it.”

“Well, that wasn’t too easy. And I guess I worry about going through stuff like that. It’s made me sad.” Then she shrugged. “I guess.”

“Oh, now, that I understand,” she said with a laugh. “I’m an expert at that. I was hurt once and decided never to be hurt again.”

Courtney was astonished and looked at Lilly. “Really? I mean, really?”

“Oh, yes. It gave me a chronic sore throat, holding back the tears. Afraid of the tears. But the Hopi have another old saying. Crying will release the sorrowful thoughts on the mind.”

“Where do you get all these old Hopi sayings?”

She laughed. “From an old Hopi grandfather. I treasure them now, but believe me, as I was growing up he got on my last nerve!”

“Did you ever hurt so bad inside that you were afraid you’d never stop crying? That maybe you’d die of crying? That the ground might swallow you up?”

“Oh, sweeting, yes! That’s why I cut it off! But people don’t die of crying—they only get very messy and very tired and in the end, there is sometimes relief. Sometimes it takes a lot of that messy crying to get relief. But it is cleansing.”

“What did you cry over? Did your mother die?”

“I never knew my mother,” Lilly said. “Other heartbreaks, certainly not the same as yours. Life’s path sometimes has many rocky curves.”

“Another Hopi saying?”

“No,” Lilly said with a laugh. “The unfortunate truth! I’ve had as many hard times as wonderful times. As I’m older, I flow with it better than I did when I was your age. At least you have that to look forward to!”

“That’s good news…” Courtney replied drily.

“I’ve been meaning to commend you on your progress, Courtney—some of the wonderful news of the day. And I’m wondering—would you consider helping me with some of the much younger girls? Some of them are nervous around the horses and some have a bigger problem—they’re not nervous and perhaps too brave to pay attention to safety. They could use a role model like you to show them the way.”

“Seriously?”

“I couldn’t be more serious. I’m very proud of you. I think you could teach us all. Could you help?”

“Sure,” she said, her entire mood suddenly brighter.

“It’s just about finished, Courtney,” Lief said on the drive home from the stables. “The custody filing. I have to appear in court, but it’s a mere formality and you don’t have to go. This will be the end of it. I will only be gone one night and the Hawkinses said you and Spike can stay with them.”

“I don’t need to stay with them,” she said.

“I took care of it, honey. Pack an overnight, take the bus home from school so you can pick up Spike and your bag. Amber’s dad will come for you. Then, if you’re okay being alone until I get home late Thursday night, they can drop you and Spike off after dinner. You okay with that? Because if you’re not, you can stay with them two nights. I should be back by eleven at the latest. Want to stay a second night?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll come home.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Mr. Hawkins said he’d bring you. You have your key. And…do I even have to say this? No friends over. No sneaking out, no beer, no etcetera?”

“Gimme a break,” she said. “Haven’t I been like a perfect child?”

“Truthfully? Yes. Great record. Don’t mess it up.”

Seventeen

Courtney made a decision to show Lief how totally functional they were, just the two of them. When she got to school she told Amber that her dad’s trip was postponed, and it would maybe happen next week, but she wouldn’t be spending the night.

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Amber said. “I was kind of hoping you’d come.”

“Well, I could come anyway, but I should stay home and, you know, catch up on stuff. You’re doing okay on algebra, right?”

“Thanks to you!” she said, smiling.

“Will you tell your mom and dad? Tell your dad not to come and pick me up?”

“Sure. Wanna do something on the weekend?”

“We could do that,” Courtney said. “I’ll ask my dad.”

And when she got home from school, Lief was gone and Spike was in the kennel waiting for her. Lief had left her a note: Call my cell for any reason. And here are some numbers in case you have a problem of any kind. Love, Dad.

Dad. That felt so good, so right. So there was a lot in her life that was kind of upside down, but Lief was her dad and he was getting the papers signed.

They had talked about her last name—Lord. She’d been using Holbrook at school because it was less confusing, but it wasn’t her legal name. Lief had told her that after she was eighteen she could have her name legally changed if she wanted to and wouldn’t need anyone’s permission, not even Stu’s. She was planning on doing just that.

The names and numbers under his note included Kelly’s cell phone and landline, the number for the town doctor, Dr. Michaels, the number for Jack Sheridan, who could find anyone she might need, Mike Valenzuela, the town cop and the number of the veterinarian in Fortuna they’d taken Spike to for his shots.

She’d only been home a couple of hours when her cell phone rang, and she saw that it was Lief.

“Hi, honey,” he said. “Doing okay?”

“Just doing homework,” she said. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was doing homework, but she wasn’t doing it with Amber. She was doing it at home alone. She was thinking about making some mac and cheese, and while she told the literal truth, she knew she was misleading him. She just wanted him to know that they could make it, just the two of them. She wanted him to know she’d stick by him, and he didn’t need to be sad anymore.

Regardless of all the things Jerry and Lilly had said about this, about worrying about the grief and pain the future might bring, it still seemed like the best idea was proving herself competent. And proving to Lief he didn’t need anyone else.

“When is court?” she asked him.

“I appear in judge’s chambers tomorrow, not open court. Stu signed his documents and doesn’t even have to be there. I’ll see the judge at nine, be done by ten, have a meeting with the lawyer, then lunch with my agent since I’m here and can’t get a flight back till later. Then I’ll drive home from the Bay Area. You’ll probably be asleep when I get home.”

“But will you text me if you have any problem with the judge?” she asked.

“Of course, but don’t worry. I’ve been told that, with Stu’s consent, this is as good as over.”

“Okay. And will you please wear your seat belt?” she asked.

There was momentary silence. “Courtney, I always wear a seat belt, you know that.”

“Right. Yeah. Just making sure.”

“You all right, honey?”

“Sure. I think it’s time to eat, I’d better go.”

“Well, say thank you to Hawk and Sinette for me, will you please?”

“Yeah, I will. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“I’ll give you a call when you should be home from school, before I catch my flight.”

“Good. Right,” she said. “See you later.”

Once she had signed off, she felt all proud again. She felt like this was the right thing to do, to show him they’d be fine without anyone else joining their family. She finished her homework, started water boiling for her mac and cheese, and then she heard the telltale sound of gnawing.

Crap! she thought. She’d forgotten about Spike. He was loose. And it took him about ten seconds to get in trouble.

And then there was a pop, a yelp, the lights in the other room flickered, and all went quiet. “Spike!” she yelled. “Oh, God, Spike!” There was no response.