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idea.
    Instead of washing the leaves one at a time, she’d carry all the plants inside and set them in the bathtub. Then she could just run the shower over them. She’d finish in minutes instead of hours.
    Keeping a good grip on each plant’s container, Darby rushed between the lanai and the bathtub. It didn’t take long, but Darby was staggering under the weight of the largest of the remaining plants when she felt a tickle on her forearm. She changed her hold,thinking one of the long pointed leaves was brushing her, but the tickle didn’t stop.
    It wasn’t painful, just annoying, but Darby adjusted her grasp one more time before she looked down to investigate. A tiny brownish reptile looked up at her with its head cocked to one side.
    A gecko!
    Darby caught her breath in surprise. She wasn’t scared, but the gecko was. It scuttled up past her elbow, heading for her armpit.
    Trying to shake it off, Darby lost her grip on the plant. It fell and cartwheeled across the living room.
    For the second time that day, dirt sprayed around Darby. But this time was worse than nearly being trampled. Dirt had flown up, then landed on the pale living room carpet. She’d have to get out the vacuum cleaner and tend to this, too.
    Thank goodness the dirt wasn’t wet yet. It would have smeared all over the carpet. She’d have to be careful she didn’t vacuum up the gecko, too, she thought, but the gecko, the cause of this mess, was nowhere in sight.
    Grumbling, Darby crab-stepped around the dirt as she moved the last plant into the shower. She left the water running while she cleaned up the mud-spattered carpet, and she was just beginning to feel a bit relieved that her job was nearing the end when Aunty Cathy showed up again.
    â€œI used to do that, too,” she said from the doorwayof the bathroom. “It’s a good idea, but it takes a while to clean out the bathtub.”
    â€œClean it out?” Darby asked, but a glance showed her the shower’s jet had sluiced off loose leaves and stems. Some of the smaller containers had overflowed, carrying rivers of dirt all over the white tub.
    Now she was facing a third chore instead of just one. Darby gave Aunty Cathy a beseeching look, but she must have misinterpreted it, because Aunty Cathy just shrugged and said, “You do it however you want, honey. Just don’t leave things worse than when you started.”
    With dirt under her nails and water-withered fingertips, Darby finally finished and collapsed onto the bench by the front door.
    She pulled on her boots and told herself with wordless grumbling that since she was getting ready to teach Hoku about frustration management, she should try to shake off her own aggravation. It wouldn’t do any good to let the horse think her rider was irritated, too.
    â€œAnd I’m going to focus for the rest of the day,” Darby muttered to herself.
    Trouble had come when she’d let her mind wander from Sugarfoot to the gate she’d planned to open for Gemma. Trouble had come just now when she’d tried to rush the plant-care job.
    No more , Darby thought. She’d do exactly what she was told.
    â€œGranddaughter!”
    Darby hurried toward Jonah. His arms were full of horse gear.
    Yes! Darby thought. She could hardly wait to take the tack and find Hoku.
    â€œI thought you’d fallen asleep in there,” he said, handing her the armload of tack.
    â€œSaddle, halter, lead rope, and sheepskin pad,” Jonah listed each item as he gave it to her.
    â€œSaddle?” Darby asked. Her horse wasn’t saddle-broken yet.
    â€œA little endurance saddle,” he explained. “Light, yeah? Broken in. Your big saddle for Navigator has a wood frame. This one’s some kinda superflex plastic.”
    An endurance saddle? It looked a lot like an English saddle, Darby thought, and she couldn’t imagine where Jonah, devoted to all things paniolo, had found it.