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The next morning, Molly and I argued about the time she came back last night and the time I got up this morning. She complained she couldn’t sleep. Well, I couldn’t sleep while she stumbled through our room, giggling and tripping on her own foot, trying to get her clothes off and put on her pajamas at two in the morning.
I was about to explode again, so I shoved jeans, a thick sweater, and my black and white boots on, and stalked out of the room before I punched her.
I drove to the nearest Starbucks for breakfast, then to the Rock Hill ranch. On the way, I recalled what happened last night. Or what didn’t happen.
I was able to calm Midnight, and until we left, he was acting more like himself. Still a very hot-blooded colt, but more manageable. He didn’t even twitch or snort when Tom
