“I love it here.”

“It shows. So . . . do you want to hear about Charlotte Dupont?”

“I’m pretty sure my family censors whatever they hear, whatever they know. So I’d like the uncensored version.”

“Good, because that’s the way I want to tell it. She’s a joke in the industry. She gets work because her doddering, stupidly rich husband buys her work. Rumor is, and I believe it, he sometimes pays for reviews that don’t skewer her. When he doesn’t pay, they invariably do. And she’s had so much plastic surgery I’m not sure how much of her is still organic.”

Unable to help herself, Cate barked out a laugh. “Really?”

“Somebody—I wish it had been me—said she looks like Has-Been Barbie. Cold, but accurate. I’ve seen her a couple times, in person. Red carpet stuff or in a restaurant. I can tell you she doesn’t know when to quit going under the knife, the injections, whatever the hell she’s doing.”

“Maybe you get the face you deserve in the end.”

“Well then, wow. She’s got the one she deserves.” Shifting, she made faces at Luke to make him laugh. “She tried to talk to me once, at an event. Came over, with that face, diamonds dripping over her plastic boobs, tried to convince me to talk to you on her behalf. Sob story.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget that. I told her to fuck off. Just that: ‘Fuck off,’ and walked away. Felt good.”

“I love you, Darlie.”

“Love you back. Maybe I should buy a place up here. A getaway.”

“You’ve got a place up here.”

Reaching over, Darlie squeezed Cate’s hand. “I do, don’t I?”

Cate turned off the highway onto the ranch road. Started the bumpy drive up.

“Some road!”

“It’s a ranch.”

“Family ranch. I bet it’s sweet. I can’t wait to see how Luke reacts to ranch animals. And you helped make cheese and butter. What a riot. I’ve love to . . . This is not sweet,” Darlie managed when the near pastures, the house, the barns, the rising hills dotted with sheep and goats came into view. “This is just, well, stunning.”

“It really is.”

“I thought family ranch, small and sweet. This is—Look at the cows, right there. The cows get a view. Look at the cows, Luke!”

At the moment, he continued an important conversation with Dog.

“Oh.” Darlie gripped Cate’s arm. “Is that the rancher? Tell me that’s your rancher. On a horse, with a hat, and a body. A really good body.”

“That’s Dillon. He was probably checking fences.”

“He’s got dogs with him. Dogs, Luke!”

He looked up at the magic word, and his head swiveled from side to side. His reaction was a long squeal and an impatient bounce. “Out, out, out!”

“You bet.”

Darlie popped out to free him when Cate parked. “Cows, baby, and horses, and sheep.”

“Dog!”

He tried to wiggle free when the dogs ran over.

“They won’t hurt him,” Dillon called out. “They like kids.”

Cautious, Darlie crouched with him, felt his joy when the dogs sniffed and licked. He shoved free, plopped right down on the lawn, gut-laughing as they wagged.

“Dog!” He did his best to hug them to him.

“Well, they’re in heaven now.” Dillon dismounted, wound the reins on a fence post. He walked straight to Cate, lifted her an inch off her feet, took her mouth.

“Missed you. Sorry,” he said to Darlie.

“Don’t be sorry. Do it again.”

“Happy to.” When he had, he set Cate back on her feet. “I already like your friend. Dillon Cooper.” After pulling off a work glove, he offered a hand.

“Darlie, and Luke. Dog was his first word.”

“It’s a good one.” At ease, Dillon hunkered down. “How’s it going, big guy?”

“Dog,” Luke responded in a tone of pure love. He spotted Dillon’s horse. Eyes widened. “Dog!” As he scrambled up.

“Let’s try this.”

Dillon scooped the boy up, walked him over to the horse.

“Pet right here.” He guided Luke’s hand to the horse’s neck, stroked it along.

Darlie looked over at Cate. Laid a hand on her heart. Rolled her eyes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Darlie couldn’t get used to the glass wall of Cate’s cottage. Luke loved it, evidenced by the little smeared fingerprints and mouth prints he left on a regular basis.

She appreciated the wonder it brought into the house, but it made her feel exposed, one-way glass or not. For Cate, she knew, it offered freedom.

Just as the open windows offered freedom and sea-tinged breezes. In L.A., even behind walls and gates, Darlie would never leave windows open through the night, or doors unlocked.

Seeing Cate’s life here, sharing it with her for a few days, made her realize Cate made the right choice, for her, when she’d taken another path.

And now, Darlie thought, she had her own choices to make about direction. Just which path did she take now? Which path when she had Luke to think of, first, last, always?

She’d been an actor all her life, so she knew the roads, the obstacles, the tricky turns. Could she—should she—navigate all of that as a single mother?

So while her son punched every side of his music cube—again—and Cate closed herself in her studio to work, Darlie talked to her agent.

And her lawyer.

And her business manager.

Between conversations, she distracted Luke with other toys, put him in the high chair for a midmorning snack. Cleaned up the debris from the snack, and wondered how women ever managed to have more than one child.

Grateful to get off her feet, she stretched out on the floor to play with Luke and his building blocks, thought over her options. And watched her son.

He could say Dada—along with Mama, Hi, Bye-bye, Mine, No, Out, Up, Cate, and, of course, Dog. Since the ranch visit, he’d added Cow and Horse. All of those clear among a lot of chattering/babbling and half words she’d learned to translate.

But not once had he said Dada since they’d come to Big Sur.

Did babies forget so quickly—or had he never really bonded with his father? How could Dawson not feel what she felt, this overwhelming love for the wonder they’d created together?

“He doesn’t, and that’s that.”

“Mama!” After pulling back her attention, Luke knocked over the short tower of blocks, and laughed like a maniac.

“That’s right, baby. We knock it down and build it again. We just build it again. And better.”

She pulled out her phone, redialed her agent. “Make the deal.”

Determined, and a little terrified, she went back to building towers until the knock on the door jolted her.

Before she gained her feet, the door opened. Her heart flipped up, then settled again when she saw Dillon with a market bag.

Stark and Natasha raced in, and straight to the squealing, laughing Luke.

“Sorry. Delivery.”

“Come in. You’ve just made my son’s day,” she added, grinning at the rolling, happy heap of boy and fur on the floor.