smiled. “Oh, no, Mr. Dash, you don’t need a dog. You already kind of have one. And you’ve got several good cats and all those horses. Not to mention all the kids who come to your riding and roping school. And the kids on the baseball teams and the football team. No, a good book is a whole lot easier to take care of than a dog. And when you read, you can go anywhere.”
“I never was much of a reader.”
“I didn’t start out that way either. But a man does what he has to.”
Dash wanted to ask Zeph why he was so alone. Why he lived out in the woods. Why he moved around Last Chance like a shadow. But he couldn’t ask those questions. Zeph would never have answered him. The old man had demons, and Dash knew all about those.
Dash turned away, casting his gaze over the work in progress. God help him, he didn’t want to give up on this project. He wanted it to go on. But he didn’t want it to go on without Savannah in his life. “You think watching movies would be as good as reading?” he asked.
“Maybe. But a good book lasts a lot longer than a movie. And you can get books for free from the consignment shop. Or, if you had a mind to, you could get a library card. And when you go to the library, you could visit with Miss Nita, and that’s always nice.”
“Good point.”
Dash finished his soda and handed the bottle back to Zeph. “You’re doing a great job, Zeph. I don’t think anyone else could have rescued that woodwork.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Dash. I love giving new life to old things.”
Dash turned around and headed toward the door. When he reached the sidewalk, his desire for a drink had eased. It was almost as if Uncle Earnest’s ghost was there behind him. The taste of orange soda in his mouth was a reminder that a sober life was a much better life.
And Zeph had just reminded him that he wasn’t alone. Not really. He had the horses, and the kids, and Miriam. Not to mention the gals of Angel Development, Inc.
He stared up at The Kismet’s marquee. Uncle Earnest would never have stood between a boy and his father. Never in a million years. Never for selfish reasons. Never.
He was going to be like Uncle Earnest.
Dash would ask Savannah’s permission to finish this project. It made no sense from a money point of view. But that didn’t matter. If he built it, people would come. And he’d have the kids in the theater to go along with the kids in the horse program and the kids in Little League and the kids in the football program.
Heck, it was damned hard to feel lonely in a place like Last Chance.
Dash ran into Todd and Champ on his way back to the house. The boy was crying.
“Hey,” Dash said, his voice sounding dry and rusty in his own ears. “What’s the matter?”
The kid rubbed his eyes and gave a shrug. “Did Mom tell you? We’re going back to Baltimore.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“My dad said he wanted to see me on weekends.”
“That’s a good thing.”
Todd nodded, his mouth quivering. “Yeah. I’d like that. But we have to live with Grandmother for a while.” He gave Champ a little pat. And then it was almost as if the kid collapsed. He plopped down on the sidewalk and buried his face in the dog’s flank. And Champ smiled and licked his face with the adoration only a dog could give.
Dash’s chest got so tight he could hardly breathe.
He’d hung on to a dog like that once. On the morning, decades ago, when they’d come to take him away from the ranch where he’d spent the first eleven years of his life. His life had been hell on that ranch, but he didn’t want to leave it. Not if it meant leaving that old dog; Murphy was his name.
He’d cried himself out that day. That good-bye had been the hardest one of all. He never did know what happened to that dog. The social service people probably sent Murphy to the pound.
“I’ll take care of Champ for you,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about him.” Dash hunkered down and squeezed Todd’s shoulder. “I’ve been where you are now. I know exactly how it feels. Like someone is taking away your best friend in all the world. But having a