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head and scratched my cheek in another itchy place. I leaned into her hands. “You and L.D. should be friends now. Look at him. He’s so friendly,” she said. And quite convincingly, too.
    “I don’t know that I’d use that exact word: friendly,” Doctor Tom said. “Little Dante — L.D.— doesn’t know it, but what he wants is to win enough to position himself to stand at stud for most of his life. That’s the goal. I’m beginning to worry that his antics and his attitude might overshadow whatever standout assets run in his blood. The last thing he wants is to have to make his name by racing. That’s a life, all right. A tough one. Besides, whether or not we’re friends is not up to me. Everything from here on is up to him.”
    Melody shook her head. “Uh-uh,” she said, then clucked her tongue. “Being friends takes two, Daddy. Even I know that much. Have you ever tickled his ears like this? Or, wait. I know —” She plunged her hand into her peppermint pocket, retrieved a candy, and handed it to Doctor Tom. “Here. You try.”
    I nuzzled her for defending me.
    He smiled at her, but closed one eye and peered at me. “Hmm. What do you say? Water under the bridge?” He placed the candy in the well of his hand and clenched his fist around it. By then, I had decided there was about nothing in the world that I savored as much as the first shock of peppermint on my tongue followed by sweetness in the crunch. And there was easy pickings right in front of me, even if the prize was hidden.
    I dropped my nose toward Doctor Tom’s hand; he unfurled his thumb. “For you,” he said, and uncurled his fingers. “Really, truly.”
    Now, I didn’t lollygag. Just swiped the treat and nodded for more.
    “Well, I’ll be,” said Doctor Tom. He gentled his hand and touched my cheek softer than ever before. And without a needle in sight.
    Melody encouraged him. “See? You’re doing great. Maybe L.D.’s just super-duper sensitive. I think he worries a lot. Maybe you have to reassure him. You know, talk to him. Make sure he knows you like him and think he’s a good boy.”
    “Hmmm . . . could be,” said Doctor Tom. “Most Edensway foals seem born knowing we’re on their side. Not him, though.”
    Melody looked at me, then at him. “Horses are like people, Daddy. You have to take the time to get to know each one. I learned that from you.”
    Doctor Tom breathed in a slow breath. I breathed out. He touched my withers, then my shoulder, then my chest. No needle, no tubes, no halter.
    “Seems maybe I’ve forgotten some things I should be remembering. What else have you picked up hanging around the barn?”
    The child was a confident speaker, that’s for sure. She didn’t hesitate to school her father in equine matters she knew to be true. “When I was six you told me this: ‘Never get yourself into a position of girl versus horse, Melody, because a horse will always win.’ ”
    “True enough,” said Doctor Tom. “A pearl that holds true for man versus horse, too.”
    “And when I was seven you said: ‘You can’t demand anything from a horse. You have to earn everything through trust. That takes time.’ ”
    “I said that?”
    “Yep. And one more thing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “ ‘It works best when you and your horse want the same thing.’ ”
    All of a sudden, Doctor Tom stepped back, away from me. Just when I was starting to think I might like him a little, he spooked.
    “Well, my foot,” he said, more to himself than to Melody or me. “Now I see these last few months a little more clearly.” He knelt down to Melody’s eye level. “Tell me something. When do you think I stopped knowing all of these very important lessons?”
    Melody shrugged. “Ever since you bred Beatrice last year.”
    “Might be. This black colt certainly is our best hope at keeping Edensway going. His dam was one of the finest at the track. Prince Firenze is no slouch either. The whole racing world was watching