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There was a second’s hesitation before Molly answered. “It’s sore, but my headache’s gone away.” Bridget knew a measure of relief at that announcement. “Can I have something cold to drink? My mouth feels like the dentist forgot to take the cotton out of it.”
“Iced tea?” Bridget suggested.
“Have we got any lemon?”
“Yes.”
“Iced tea with lemon, then,” Molly requested.
Bridget attempted a laugh, forced and unnatural. “You can’t be feeling too badly if you’re still particular about what you are drinking and how it’s fixed.”
As she walked to the refrigerator to get the pitcher of tea and a lemon, Molly asked curiously, “Was somebody here?” With the refrigerator door open, Bridget paused, tensing. “Why do you ask?”
“I thought I remembered hearing you talk to someone in the kitchen while I was sleeping.”
A small “Oh?” was all Bridget could manage, fearing her daughter might have overheard some part of the argument with Jonas.
“Maybe I was dreaming,” Molly sighed, not quite convinced.
“It could have been Jonas.” Bridget filled a glass with tea and sliced a wedge of lemon to add to it.
“Why was he here?” Molly demanded.
Bridget walked into the living room with the tea. “He brought back the horses.”
“Did you feed and water them for me?” Molly struggled into a sitting position, wincing and gasping at the pain of moving.
“They’re all taken care of,” Bridget assured her, without identifying who had done it.
“I should go see Satin. She’ll wonder what’s happened to me.” Molly tried to get to her feet, but fell back. “I hurt all over!” she moaned dramatically. “I bet I’ll be one big black and blue bruise tomorrow morning!”
“You probably will.” Bridget smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it.
“Will you help me, Mom?” Molly pleaded. “I want to see Satin and make sure she’s all right.”
“You lie still. Satin is fine.”
Instantly Bridget remembered Jonas’s comment about a swelling and his suggestion to have her father look at it. She handed the glass of iced tea to her daughter and walked to the phone.
“Who are you calling?” Molly wanted to know.
“Your grandfather.”
“Why? Something is the matter with Satin, isn’t it?” Molly concluded immediately, her eyes widening in alarm.
“Jonas noticed a slight swelling around her fetlock,” Bridget admitted. “He didn’t think it was serious, but he suggested your grandfather should look at it.”
“What does he know about horses?” Molly’s rude question only betrayed her concern for her beloved horse.
“He’s been around them,” Bridget answered coolly, dialing her parent’s telephone number.
“If anything happens to Satin,” Molly wailed mournfully. “I’ll just die!”
Bridget could have told her that when you lose someone you love, you don’t die. You keep on living, even if the living is sometimes worse than death. She had firsthand experience, and the sensation was beginning to close around her again.
