Not good at all. Trey glanced down at his muddy son and knew his momma would be angry, but the boy was quick. He hit the puddle and fell before Trey could get to him. Now the bloodcurdling scream TJ let out could have woken the dead; it sure seemed to carry far enough to reach the house. The screen door of the kitchen burst wide and Kelly appeared. Her head jerked left and then right until she saw them. As if her feet had wings, she raced across the ground, stopping before them wide-eyed with her lips drawn in a straight line. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. TJ held out his arms to her, but Trey pulled him back. “He’ll get you dirty.” “So what. Give him to me.” TJ crawled into her embrace, locking his muddy arms around her neck. “Wet,” he whimpered. “I can see that. What happened?” she asked Trey. “Running toward his pony, he didn’t see the mud puddle.” “Running toward his what?” Her voice pitched and her eyes grew even rounder. “Mom and Dad got him a Welsh pony.”
