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smelling like roses.”
    I nod.
    â€œCome on now,” Mom urges. “What we need is food. Can’t expect an army to war on empty stomachs.”
    Everybody shuffles off toward the house. Except me.
    â€œEllie, I brought home sweet-and-sour pork—your favorite. And enough egg rolls to build the Great Wall of China.”
    I shake my head. I’m not hungry. Actually, even the thought of my favorite Chinese food makes me want to hurl. And that reminds me that Dream can’t throw up. She has to keep everything bad inside of her.
    While they’re all inside eating dinner, I stay in the lean-to and talk to my horse. I’m not sure if she knows I’m here with her or not.
    â€œI’m so sorry you have a stomachache, Dream. I wish I could do something to make it better. I’m praying. But I’ve done so many rotten, selfish things lately. I don’t know what good my prayers are going to do you. I didn’t mean to let you down. Or everybody else, either. I just wanted people to see you like I see you. You’re the best horse in the whole world. So you have to get better. Okay? Please get better, Dream. Please? I can’t lose you.”
    I stop talking because I’m choking on my words. I swipe my eyes with the back of my arm.
    Colt and Ethan come back out after they’ve eaten. They sit with Dream and me for a long time. But I guess they don’t know what to say any more than I do. They don’t even talk to each other.
    A little later Mom comes out and tells us a story about Granny and a sick coyote she rescued when she was a little girl. It must be a funny story because Ethan and Colt laugh. But I don’t hear much of it. I’m listening to Dream’s scratchy breath. It sounds like sleet landing on a plastic bag.
    Dad comes out a few times. He pats Dream’s head, reaching from as far away as possible. “There’s a good horse,” he says. “You get all that colic and whatnot out of you.”
    Dad strokes Dream’s white blaze for several minutes, murmuring to her. He doesn’t even mention the barrel campaign or how his big presentation went.
    I don’t ask. I can’t even look my dad in the eyes.
    Then he goes back in, leaving Ethan and Colt and me sitting around in silence. Pinto Cat curls up next to Ethan, but she doesn’t purr.
    After a while, Mom and Dad come and get Ethan for bed. Mom says Colt and I can stay a little longer.
    â€œAnybody want a sweatshirt?” Mom asks. “It’s getting chilly con carne out here.”
    I hadn’t noticed. But when she mentions it, I shiver.
    It seems like only a couple of minutes have passed when Mom calls from the back door, “Time for bed!”
    â€œI can’t leave Dream,” I tell Colt. Tears spring into my eyes. “You have to tell Mom I need to stay with my horse.”
    Colt gets to his feet. He stamps one foot like it’s gone to sleep. “Ellie, there’s nothing you can do out here.”
    Pinto Cat must agree with him. The calico struts out of the lean-to and disappears deep into the yard.
    â€œThere is something I can do. I can stay with Dream. It’s not much. But I can at least be here with my horse.” The moon leaks through tiny cracks in the wood, making stripes across Colt’s shirt. “I can’t leave Dream. You wouldn’t leave Bullet.”
    He stares at me, and I think I see shiny tears in the corners of his eyes. “I get it. I’ll tell your mom.” He starts to go. Then he stops. When he turns around, his whole face is lit by shiny moonlight. “And I’ll pray.”
    Then he turns and runs into the house.
    Did Colt just say he’d pray?
    Colt Stevens doesn’t even like it when I talk to him about God. But he said he’ll pray. He’ll pray for Dream.

15

    God’s Lap
    Mom tries calling me in to bed again. But I can’t go.
    â€œPlease, Mom?” I shout.