The Mommy Miracle by Lilian Darcy

didn’t have the sense of dependency and need she so wanted to fight in herself. “The other driver, Dev. I—I haven’t felt ready to ask until now. And you know my family wouldn’t bring it up without direct questions.”
    â€œNo, they wouldn’t. We’ve had a couple of discussions about that, too.”
    â€œI bet you have!” She folded her mouth into an upside-down smile. “Who was it? Were they injured, too? He? She?”
    â€œHe.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    Dev put down his fork. “He wasn’t badly hurt. You don’t need to know anything about him.”
    â€œYou don’t sound too sympathetic. What went wrong?”
    â€œHe was driving over the limit.”
    â€œSpeed or alcohol?”
    â€œBoth.”
    â€œAh, okay. All bases covered, then. A fine upstanding citizen.” She gave another twisted smile.
    He shrugged and opened his palms. “Exactly.”
    â€œAnd where is he now?”
    â€œTried and convicted. All you need to know.”
    â€œIt happened and it’s over, and now we just live our lives. That’s it, isn’t it?”
    â€œIs that what you really think?”
    She paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. Most of the food fell off. She was still a little wobbly with her silverware control. “Yes. Don’t you?”
    â€œYes, I do. I was a little concerned that you might feel differently.”
    â€œThat I’d want a vendetta? Or that I’d brood and feel bitter?”
    â€œMany people would.” He was leaning toward her over the table, studying her the way he’d studied her several times today. She knew why. How was this going to work? How would baby DJ connect or divide them? What did they both want? Could they manage to keep this free of conflict and misunderstanding and hurt? Everything came back to that. Everything they said to each other gave a potential clue.
    â€œWell, not me,” she told him. “I just like to get back on the horse.”
    â€œMmm,” was all he said.
    But she could see something in his face. Relief and approval. It was something they shared, this attitude to the accident and how to process it, and that was a plus.In life, you have to play the hand you’re dealt. She believed this, and so did he. You can’t waste energy in “if only” and regret. You can’t go looking for bitterness and revenge.
    Especially when she had other things to think about.
    Like a baby she didn’t know she’d had.
    Like a baby she wouldn’t recognize in the street.
    Too hard. Way too hard.
    She felt a surge of restlessness and fight, a need for the physical movement that was still so challenging, and told him suddenly, “I seriously do want to get back on the horse.”
    â€œThe real horse?” She’d caught his attention again. “You want to ride your horse again?” They were both making slow progress with their meal. “Your thoroughbred? He’s leased out, since the accident, isn’t he?”
    â€œLeased out, to another rider, Bec, who’s a good friend and who would give him back in a heartbeat. She lives out near Pictonville, on forty acres. I could go see him anytime. He’s not sold.”
    She’d been so happy to discover this. Elin had told her, “Even though Mom’s never been a fan of your riding, even in the darkest hours when we questioned how much you’d recover, she wouldn’t hear of Irish being sold.”
    But now Dev said, “A spirited thoroughbred, Jodie? Twelve hundred pounds of muscle with a back higher than your shoulder?”
    â€œOf course not yet,” she said quickly. “Not him. I’d ride Snowy or Bess.”
    â€œWho are they? Are they quieter?”
    â€œThey’re our hippotherapy horses, at Oakbank. They’re trained for people like me, disabled riders and riders with special needs. You wouldn’t believe howpatient and