“Shh,” Natalie hissed, glancing in Caro’s direction. “She’ll hear you.” She shook her head, scrubbing the paint off the front of a stall as best she could given her ever-expanding girth. “She feels bad enough as it is.” The stall fronts were wood. They’d been stained a natural gold, and fortunately for Natalie and Colt, they were waterproof. The paint didn’t stick to the surface well, which meant a rag and solvent would wipe away the paint. Unfortunately, the solvent smelled horrible, and the paint made a mess of the rags and their hands. “What did Chance say?” Claire asked, working on getting rid of the letter W. Adam had insisted on helping, though she wasn’t certain he should be reading the offensive words. Fortunately, he didn’t know what any of them meant. “He would kill him,” Natalie said. “You mean James.” Claire rubbed a little harder. Right now she wanted to kill him, too.
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