Finding the Dream by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2010-09-21T22:00:00+00:00

It wasn’t an easy thing for a young girl with a great deal of pride to take the first step. Though it had troubled her, and kept her awake a long time during the night, Ali hadn’t told her mother what Michael had said to her. Or how it had made her feel.

She wasn’t sure what her mother would have done, or said, but she did know when you’d done something wrong, you were supposed to fix it.

She’d gotten up early and dressed for school, then slipped out the side door to avoid any questions. Old Joe was here this morning, humming to his azaleas. Ali cautiously skirted that section of the garden and made her way toward the stables.

She had her speech all worked out, and she was very proud of it. She thought it was mature, dignified, and clever. She was certain that Mr. Fury would nod wisely, impressed, after she was done.

She stopped for a moment to watch the horses he’d let out into the paddock. He would be cleaning the stalls, then. She tried not to pout as she watched Tess and thought about what it was like to ride her and brush her and feed her apples.

Her mother might have evaded the subject of money, but Ali knew, with her new wisdom, that buying and keeping a horse would strain the budget.

Besides, she didn’t intend to ask Mr. Fury for anything.

He had yelled at her, scolded her, threatened to spank her. That was simply not permitted.

Head high, she walked into the stables. All the smells she’d begun to love were there. Hay and grain and horse and leather. She remembered the way he’d shown her to saddlesoap the tack, how to curry a horse. How he had put her in the saddle for the first time. And praised her.

She bit her lip. None of that mattered. He’d insulted her.

She heard the sounds of the shovel, and she walked to the end of the row, where Michael was filling a wheelbarrow with soiled straw and manure.

“Excuse me, Mr. Fury.” Her voice had a royal ring that she would have been surprised to know closely echoed her mother’s.

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.

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