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“Well, I just wanted to tell you what happened.”

“Thanks, Dr. Carr. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. How are Bart’s hooves?”

“Looking good. We keep them cleaned and the farrier came over again this week to have a look. He says Bart’s healed nicely.”

“Good news,” he said. “I’ll say good-bye. If you need me, night or day, you call.”

“I will. Thanks again.”

She hung up and thought about what the vet had said. She only knew one attorney, but he was very good. Despite her dislike for his relentless pursuit, Ron Woodley was a good attorney who won most of the cases he’d tried; and he was fairly famous, for a young attorney. He was sweet on Katy. It would be underhanded and unkind to play on that attraction, she told herself. Then she thought about Teddie and what it would mean to the little girl to have an abusive former owner try to reclaim his horse. She didn’t know any local attorneys, and she was afraid that if the abuser had plenty of money, local attorneys in a small town might not be anxious to go up against him publicly. She needed somebody high-powered and aggressive in the courtroom. Teddie didn’t like the lawyer, but she loved her horse. Katy thought about that.

After which, she picked up the phone and made a long-distance call to Maryland.

* * *

When Parker and Teddie came up on the porch, both laughing, she felt a sudden pang of guilt. She should have first discussed with her daughter what she planned to do. She had an impulsive nature that sometimes got her into complicated situations. This one would certainly qualify.

“I’ve got lunch ready,” she said, leading the way into the kitchen. “How’s Bart doing?”

“Very well, indeed,” Parker said as he pulled out a chair for Teddie and then one for himself at the kitchen table. “His hooves look good. So does the rest of him.”

“What do you want to drink?” she asked Parker.

“Oh, a fifth of aged scotch, a magnum of champagne . . .” He grinned at her expression. “How about coffee?”

She laughed. “That suits me, too.”

She put the tuna salad on the table, along with a loaf of bread, a jar of mayonnaise, and knives at each plate. “Dig in,” she invited them.

“We haven’t said grace yet,” Teddie reminded her with a pointed look.

Katy rolled her eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart. Let me start the coffee and I’ll be right there.”

She sat down and before she and Katy bowed their heads, Parker was already bowing his. “When in Rome . . . ?” he teased softly.

Katy smiled and said grace.

She got back up then and went to pour coffee into two cups.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“I’m a purist,” he returned. “I take my coffee straight up mostly.”

She grinned. “I do too.”

“I don’t,” Teddie piped up. “Cream and sugar helps kill the taste! Can I have some?”

“When you’re thirteen,” Katy said, without missing a beat.

“Thirteen?!”

“That’s when my grandparents said I could have it. My parents said it, too. Coffee’s supposed to stunt your growth or something if you drink it earlier than that.” She frowned as she put the cups down on the table. “That sounds very odd.”

“It does,” Teddie agreed enthusiastically. “So where’s my cup?”

“When you’re thirteen, regardless of why,” Katy said easily and sat down.

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