“Oh hell, I didn’t pack a high chair, or a crib.”

“I guarantee you we have them in the house, and whatever else you need. The Sullivans are always having babies.”

By midafternoon, she had Darlie settled, with the baby in the bedroom—facing the hillside—adjoining the seaside room by a Jack and Jill bath.

She had one of the high chairs in her kitchen, a bag of toys in her living area, and both mother and baby taking a much-needed nap upstairs.

She called Dillon.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Somebody’s in a good mood.”

“Having a real good day.”

“I’m having a busy one. My friend—my closest friend’s here.”

“Yeah? That’s Darlie Maddigan, right?”

“It is. You pay attention. She needed a friend. Her marriage just went into the sewer so she came here with her baby. I’ll give you details on that if she tells me I can.”

“Got it.”

“So, I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that. Can I help?”

“I actually think you can. When she’s feeling steadier, I’d like to bring them over. He’s about fourteen months old, loves animals.”

“We’ve got a few of those.”

“Dogs are the big love now. And I think your ladies will add something for Darlie. Just that female spirit.”

“You know you can bring them, anytime.”

“He’s energetic,” she warned.

“Bet we can wear him out. I’ll miss you tonight.”

“I’ll miss you.”

She would, she realized. She’d gotten used to seeing him almost every day, of sleeping with him almost every night.

Turning to the glass wall, she looked out. She wasn’t ready to look past today, or maybe tomorrow on that part of her life. But she began to see that maybe, just maybe, it could roll like the sea. It could roll into forever.

Sparks worked out the timing and chose movie night. Well, movie on the communal TV night. And The Great Escape won the vote. Again.

He didn’t give a shit.

What he cared about? A good group of inmates and guards in one place.

It wouldn’t be easy doing what he had to do.

The cops had given him the idea, and the more he’d played with it, the more he saw it as perfect.

He’d already whined to Jessica about the police harassment, enlisted her—so fucking easy—to roll that over and add it to his pitch for parole. Maybe push that to early release.

Her client might be in physical danger. Police were investigating just that possibility. Not safe in prison, and blah yadda yadda.

Tonight would seal that one.

He’d figured to wait until the movie ended, and everyone filed out, then realized he might lose his courage.

Now or never, he decided.

He knew where to aim—personal trainer—and jabbed the shank into his side, toward the back, just above the waist.

He stumbled a couple of steps—motherfucker hurt—got an elbow, a shove. He managed to keep his grip on the shank, as if trying to yank it out. Went to his knees.

Blood, he thought. A lot of blood. His blood.

Seeing it, inmates scrambled back; guards pushed forward.

And there went movie night.

A baby changed things. A lot of things, Cate realized. It changed her friend. She witnessed for herself how completely Darlie focused on Luke’s needs, his wants, his happiness.

The cuddles, the playtime, the feedings.

“You’re a good mom, Darlie.”

“I want to be. I try to be.”

“You’re a good mom. You’ve got a happy kid, healthy, charming. And he’s easy with people because you let him be.”

With Luke’s hand in hers, Darlie matched Luke’s toddling, then charging gait as they walked to Cate’s car.

He wore a floppy navy sun hat, red Nikes, navy shorts, and a T-shirt that proclaimed him wild thing.

“I stayed home with him for the first couple of months, even with the nanny. Then I took them both to the set for a while, so I could nurse and see him. Then Dawson was between projects, so I pumped because I thought he and Luke should have a chance to just be together without me hovering. That didn’t work out so well.”

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’m not.” When she shook her head, her long blond ponytail swayed. “Not even a little now. I weaned him just a couple months ago because it felt like he was ready. He’s all about the sippy cup, and he’s walking. Are you sure you want to haul us over there? We can stay here.”

“We won’t go if you’re not ready.”

“It’s not that.”

When they reached the car, Cate helped with the baby, the diaper bag, the car seat.

“I know we’ve sucked up time you’d have spent with Dillon. I don’t want us to horn in on your afternoon with him.”

“You need to strap him in the car seat. I’m not sure I’d do it right. He’s a rancher, Darlie. And until I saw it all myself, I really had no idea how much work that means. Every day. He’ll take some time today, but you’ll see for yourself how much work there is. And his mother, grandmother? Those women are tireless. I don’t know how they do it all. We’re giving them a treat. This baby is a treat.”

“He is for me.” She secured him in the car seat with his beloved Dog. “Honestly, I think he’s saving my sanity right now, if not my life.”

She slid into the passenger seat, waited until Cate got behind the wheel. “I talked to my lawyer just before we left.”

“And?”

“Dawson signed the custody papers. Just like that, Cate. Like it was nothing. My lawyer said his lawyer wasn’t happy, but Dawson didn’t care. So I file the standard irreconcilable differences, and that’s the end of that. Except for the media storm.”

“They can’t bother you when they don’t know where you are.” She drove to the first gate, paused, then eased through when it opened. “And you know what? The more you take the high road, the harder they’ll be on him and his cheating slut of a nanny.”

With eyes no longer red-rimmed and weepy, Darlie looked over with a smile. “I’ve thought of that.”

“Of course you did. How else could we be friends? Traffic’s going to suck, but it’s not far.”

“Cate, these past couple days. You saved my sanity, too.”

“You sure as hell saved mine, more than once, back in the day.”

“I haven’t said much to you about her. Charlotte Dupont. Because I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear it, or if it would just upset you. I’ve got a different take on that since I’ve been here.”

“Different how?”

“We’ve kept in touch. Even managed a few face-to-face times, but mostly it’s texts, emails, video chats. Spending even a couple days? You’ve got your tits up, pal. You’re more comfortable with yourself, and happier. I’m going to say you looked good in New York whenever I got to see you. And I worried some about you coming back here. But I shouldn’t have. You look even better here. Hell, you’ve got an amazing place, that rocking studio, you’re having sex with a rancher. Why wouldn’t you look even better?”