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with such lively intelligence, he reminded her of Joey. It almost hurt to see him, and her chest gave a little twist.
    She’d never been away from Joey for more than three days. But she had to make this job work. Had to create a better life and stop scraping just to meet monthly expenses. The last round of medical bills for her wrist had consumed her savings. If not for her mother babysitting, the new training career would be impossible.
    And her mother was slowing down, better with babies than an energetic boy. Megan and Scott would be happy to help, but Eve hated to turn to them. Again. Her chest gave another kick. They would never try to take Joey. Would they?
    “We didn’t see you riding this morning.”
    Eve glanced at the stocky woman seated beside her. Juanita was one of the few ladies that came in the afternoon who could speak English. While the other women conversed in rapid-fire Spanish, Juanita had switched to English, clearly making an effort to include Ashley.
    “She couldn’t ride today,” Ashley said, leaning over the table, eager to join in. “Our bridles were stolen.”
    Juanita’s eyes widened. “But that is terrible. Horses need exercise. How will you train?”
    The entire group of women silenced. Clearly they understood some English, or perhaps it was the alarm in Juanita’s voice that sparked their attention.
    “I’ll find a bridle somewhere,” Eve said.
    She gave Ashley a warning head shake. Up until last year, Victoria had worked at Riverview. She probably still had contacts here, and Eve didn’t want rumors spreading. Owners liked their horses with successful trainers, not struggling ones. And there was something about Juanita’s expression, as if she knew much more than she pretended.
    “Maybe we should fill some buckets with water,” Eve added. “So the children can wet the sand and make it stick.”
    “I’ll get the hose,” Ashley said, rising from the table.
    Juanita waited a moment, then her voice lowered. “You don’t have the money to buy a new bridle?”
    Eve studied the woman. Despite her sense that Juanita knew more than she let on, she seemed trustworthy. Eve had never heard her gossip, not once.
    “I’m broke right now,” she admitted. “And my boss has too much going on to help. But it’ll be all right once we run a couple races.”
    She wasn’t going to complain, not to Juanita and the other women. Their lives were hard enough, and she wanted this play area to be a spot they could enjoy. Besides, on the poverty scale, she was better off. They worked back-breaking jobs for minimal wages. Juanita helped in the track kitchen so at least she had access to plenty of food, and conversation. But some of the women looked lost and despondent. In fact, Camila, one of the younger women, barely spoke.
    “If anyone here has children,” Eve said, switching back to Spanish, “there’s a new program that might be helpful.” She leaned over the table and waved a form. “It’s based on need and helps single mothers.”
    Camila looked up, her usual coolness replaced with interest. “It would help with baby care?”
    “Yes,” Eve said. “And it’s partly subsidized by the racetracks so the eligibility requirements aren’t as steep. The wait period isn’t very long either.”
    Eve passed her a form, rather surprised at the girl’s interest. Camila was barely twenty and whippet slim. However, while there were only twelve ladies who came to the sand pit regularly—and Camila wasn’t one of them—Juanita had confided that they all shared Eve’s information with other backstretch workers. Some women were currently pregnant but too shy or afraid to come forward. Or maybe there was just no room to sit.
    “Should I try to find another picnic table?” Eve asked. “In case other women want to come? Maybe just to hang out and watch the children play?”
     “ Si, gracis .”All the women gave a vigorous nod. “ Bella princesa,” someone called.
    Their enthusiasm