Eve’s arms closed around her. Bonnie’s riot of curls was soft and fragrant against her cheek, and her small body was endearingly vital and sturdy against Eve. Lord, she was lucky. “I love you, too, Bonnie.”

Bonnie let her go and flopped back around to cuddle in the curve of her arm. “You start, Mama.”

“Hushabye, don’t you cry,” Eve sang softly.

Bonnie’s thin little voice chimed. “Go to sleep, little baby.”

The moment was so precious, so dear. Eve’s arms held Bonnie closer, and she could feel the tightening of her throat as she sang, “When you wake, you shall have cake.”

Bonnie’s voice was only a wisp of sound. “And all the pretty little horses…”

SHE SHOULD GET BACK to her studies, Eve thought.

Not yet. She couldn’t pull herself away yet. Bonnie had been so loving tonight. She had seemed to be reaching out for Eve.

She stood looking down at Bonnie curled up asleep in her bed. She looked so small, she thought with aching tenderness. Bonnie was seven, yet she looked younger.

But sometimes she seemed to have a wisdom far beyond her years. She had always been a special child from the moment Eve had given birth to her. Bonnie was illegitimate, born when Eve was only sixteen. Her passionate affair with John Gallo had lasted only four weeks but had given her Bonnie.

And she had thought that she might give her up for adoption, Eve remembered wonderingly. Gazing down at her daughter it seemed impossible to even contemplate. From the moment she had seen her in the hospital, she had known that they had to be together forever.

Forever.

Those teasing words they’d spoken on the porch had only underscored the fact that Bonnie would be growing up and leaving her someday.

Pain.

She didn’t have to think of that yet. Bonnie was still her baby, and she would have her for years to come. Until then, she would cherish every moment as she had done tonight.