Free Hot Dog by Laurien Berenson Page A

about Davey’s upbringing just right. Now suddenly, with Bob back in the picture, some of the heat was off. Never in my wildest dreams would it have occurred to me to get Davey a pony. But here, sitting right in front of me, was proof of how good the idea had been.
    â€œTake her one more time around, Davey,” Pam instructed. “Then it’ll be time to go in.”
    â€œOkay.” Davey turned the pony’s head back to the track and pressed his heels to her sides. Obligingly, Willow ambled away.
    â€œWhat a nice pony,” I said. “Is she always that quiet?”
    â€œWith beginners, yes. She knows her job and she’s very good at it. Some of the other ponies are a little livelier, but from what Bobby told me about Davey I thought Willow would be the best choice to get him started.”
    Pam walked over to the gate and opened it, waiting as the palomino completed her circuit of the ring. The pony walked through the opening and headed automatically for the back of the barn. Reins looped on her neck, Davey turned in the saddle and waved.
    From where I was standing, it looked as though Willow was the decision-making half of that team. But then again, Davey was having a ball, so who was I to complain?
    I glanced over at my ex-husband. He was gazing at his son proudly. “Bobby?”
    Bob flushed slightly. “Don’t ask me. Pam’s the one who started it.”
    â€œI see.” My lips twitched. “I thought maybe that was your cowboy name.”
    â€œSmart-ass.” He reached over and smacked me on the butt. “That’s the last time I confess something about my childhood to you.”
    â€œI hope not.” It occurred to me that I was getting to know Bob much better now than I had when we were married. For the first time we were forming a real relationship as adults. Better late than never. “Is Davey finished now?”
    â€œNot quite yet. It’ll be another twenty minutes or so. Pam has this theory that it’s really important for kids to learn how to take care of their ponies, not just be riders. Davey will help her take Willow’s tack off, brush her dry, and pick out her feet. He’s not done until the pony is ready to go back in her stall.”
    It sounded like a good system to me.
    â€œIf Pam can make that work,” I said, “maybe she can come over sometime and teach Davey how to clean up his room.”
    â€œShe probably could,” said Bob. “Pam’s pretty determined. She inherited this place from her parents, but she runs it all by herself. I wouldn’t think it would be easy to make a go of it, but she does. Teaching lessons in the spring and fall, camp in the summer. She also sells some of the ponies she breeds to the big show barns in Greenwich and North Salem.”
    â€œI have to admit I’m a little envious. I’d love to have this much land and this much privacy. Faith and Eve would love it here.”
    Speaking of the Poodles, who were waiting for us at home, was impetus enough to make me push away from the fence and head for the barn to collect my child. “I’ve got a pot roast simmering in the crock pot,” I told Bob. “Do you want to join us for dinner?”
    â€œI would but . . .”
    I paused and glanced back. Bob’s expression was carefully neutral. “But what?”
    â€œPam and I sort of have plans.”
    â€œPam and you . . . ?”
    Oh.
    I guessed I should have seen that coming. Pam wasn’t just an acquaintance who’d managed to convince Bob that a pony would make a nice present for his son, she was a woman he was interested in. Of course. Willow’s unexpected arrival in our lives made much more sense now.
    â€œThat’s all right, isn’t it?”
    I looked up. To my surprise, Bob seemed to be waiting for my approval. “Of course it’s all right. Why wouldn’t it be?”
    â€œWell, you know, you and I . . . You and