quickly climbed into the chair next to her new friend.
“I like your house,” she told him. “It’s pretty.”
He smiled. “Why, thank you. This is the first time I’ve seen it since I bought it last August. I’m amazed at all the work that has been done in just a few months.”
“Only a little paint and some varnish,” Sue said, ladling soup into bowls. “I’ve had the cleaning crew working their fannies off, I can tell you.”
Maddie giggled. “You said fanny!”
“Why, so I did.”
“That’s a funny word. Fanny, fanny, fanny.”
“Maddie,” Eliza said in a warning.
Sue chuckled. “I’ll have to be more careful. I’m afraid Jim and I might both need reminders that we’re not on the ranch with roughneck cowboys. Now, eat up while it’s warm.”
“We have to pray first!” Maddie exclaimed.
Aidan cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go ahead.”
Maddie offered a sweet prayer, asking a blessing on the nice lady who cried because her hotel burned down and for the nurses at the hospital and for Dr. Mendoza, her own cardiac specialist. She even remembered to bless the food before saying amen and taking a bite of her roll with the next breath.
Conversation flowed between Aidan and his caretakers—who were obviously more to him than just employees. Eliza listened with half an ear. She was so tired. She judged it couldn’t be later than 7:00 p.m. but she couldn’t see a clock anywhere to confirm her guess.
Though it was grand and spacious, with those huge log supports in the great room and the wide wall of windows, it seemed...cold, somehow. The lodge reminded her of a new hotel in Boise she had toured about a month prior to opening, before all the finishing touches had been added to give it a welcoming air.
“How are you holding up?” Aidan asked.
“Okay, for now.”
“Would you prefer a tray in your room? I should have thought to ask.”
Yes. Quite desperately. She wanted a long, hot shower and then a bed. But she could manage to keep it together for a few more moments. “No. This is fine. It’s delicious, Sue.” The rolls were perfect, crusty on the outside and fluffy on the inside while the soup was probably the best she had ever tasted, even though she could only manage a spoonful or two.
“Thank you, darlin’. It seemed just the thing for a stormy night.”
She would have expected Aidan Caine to dine on gourmet meals every night but he seemed more than content with the rather humble fare.
“Oh. I almost forgot the pasta salad,” Sue said.
She headed out of the dining room just as a phone rang. Aidan pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the number.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting for this call. I’ve got to take it. I’ll be right back.”
He excused himself and answered the phone on his way out of the dining room as Sue came in from the kitchen Eliza could see through a doorway.
“Where is he going?”
“Phone call,” Jim answered, taking another roll out of the basket.
“Oh. That man! I swear, he hasn’t had a warm meal in a decade. One of these days, I’m going to drop his blasted phone right in the soup bowl.”
Maddie giggled at the image and Sue and Jim both smiled at her. Her daughter had a way of charming everyone, even crusty old ranchers.
“He’ll put his phone away quick enough when he has the chance to get out again with the horses,” Jim said.
Maddie inhaled sharply. “You have horses here?”
Oh, dear. Here we go, Eliza thought.
“Why, we certainly do!” Jim said proudly. “Six of the prettiest horses you could ever meet, including a little pony that’s just the right size for a girl such as yourself.”
“Oh. Mama, did you hear?”
“I did.”
Maddie was a little obsessed with all things equine. Okay, a lot obsessed. Her daughter loved horses with a deep and abiding passion.
Eliza didn’t quite comprehend the depth of the obsession since her daughter had never actually ridden a horse and had only seen a few closer than out the car window. Yet Maddie drew horse pictures, she had horse toys, her favorite pajamas featured horses and every time they went to the library, she wanted to check out books about horses. She even pretended she was a horse sometimes and made clippy-cloppy noises when she walked and her imaginary friend—who seemed to appear and disappear in their lives with rather alarming and random frequency—was a black horse named Bob, for reasons Eliza had yet to determine.
“Do you think I could see the horses?” Maddie asked, as if the prospect was far more exciting than even meeting Santa Claus on Christmas morning.
“Don’t see why not,” Jim answered. “Maybe you could even help me feed them in the morning.”
“Oh, could I?” she asked Eliza with eager entreaty.
“We’ll have to see.”
It was her traditional maternal nonanswer but Maddie barely heard her, too enthralled by the idea that Snow Angel Cove had six horses, including a girl-sized pony.
“I have a horse,” Maddie declared. “His name is Bob.”
“Is it?” Jim looked interested.
“Yes. He’s black with a white nose and he can gallop as fast as the wind. He says hello.”
The couple exchanged surprised looks. “He...says hello?” Sue asked.
“Yes. Didn’t you hear him? He’s right next to you.”
They both looked baffled, until Eliza mouthed imaginary friend.
She had been concerned enough about Bob to speak with the unit mental health counselor during Maddie’s last hospital stay, who assured her imaginary friends were both normal and healthy for children, whether or not they had chronic conditions.
“I guess I must have missed him,” Jim said. “Black with a white spot, you say. That must be why. He blends right into the dark window there.”
“He likes it here. So do I.”
“Maybe he’ll like making new friends with the other horses tomorrow,” Jim suggested.
“He will. He loves new friends. I do, too.” She beamed at the grizzled man, who seemed to visibly melt. People tended to do that around Maddie.
An
