I don’t want to go back out to the Beeker place, Sam. There’s some pretty bad demons in the dark out there, you know what I mean? I hate it out there. I feel so alone and all I want to do is drink.
Funny how Sam could find salvation in being alone, whereas Tony found only demons. Sam was the one who’d suggested Tony ask about staying on a little longer at the ranch. He understood how it felt when demons were crawling up your back. Tony needed to be with people to keep the demons off his back.
Sam had agreed to take Tony to an AA meeting tomorrow, which meant he’d have to drive up there and get him. If he could figure out a way to sneak in and steal Tony, he would. That’s how messed up he was feeling about Libby Tyler.
This afternoon, he was headed home, but thought he would stop in the hardware store to see if T.J., the owner, might take Tony on, give Tony something to do, something to keep his hands busy. It was Sam’s way of finding Tony his own version of birdhouses to build.
He reached Pine River and turned onto Main Street.
Pine River was once an old mining town that had been turned into a tourist destination. There wasn’t skiing here; Pine River was a destination for summer tourists. They came to hike and to shoot the rapids, to bike, to camp. Any outdoor activity one could think of, one could find around this spot in the Colorado mountains.
The buildings along Main Street had been fabricated to look like the Old West—some of them legitimately so, some of them bad knockoffs. The UPS store, for example, had been made to look like an old hotel. Before that, it had been a standard stucco building with two front windows.
Sam was looking at the porch railing they’d recently put up when he happened to spot the little red car with the dented rear fender parked in front.
That was Libby’s car.
He clenched his jaw and drove on to the hardware store.
T. J. was happy to see Sam, but he began to wince and make noises that sounded as if his lunch had disagreed with him when Sam brought up Tony.
“Tony D’Angelo, huh?” he said, and made a whistling sound through his teeth. “Ain’t he the guy who scared everyone half to death at the Fourth of July thing?”
T. J. was referring to Pine River’s celebration of the holiday. Before the fireworks, locals performed dance numbers and sang, and gave the obligatory speeches. That was the weekend Tony gave in to the call of booze. Sam hadn’t been there, but he’d heard about it from some Pine River cops. Tony had been distressed by some speech, and had stood up, shouting profanities at the councilman, ranting about soldiers who had died in a useless war. They’d had to carry him off, and after some wrangling, had agreed to let Tony’s girlfriend at the time take him home.
A couple of days later, Sam had gone out to check on him. It was divine intervention, he supposed, because he’d found Tony in his living room surrounded by empty beer cans and a bong. He had a gun pointed at his temple and was tearfully contemplating the end of his life.
“He’s a vet, T. J.,” Sam said. “He was having some issues, but he’s doing pretty good now. He went to treatment, he’s not drinking—in fact, he’s rebuilding a couple of cars up at Homecoming Ranch without any trouble.”
“I don’t know,” T. J. said. “I mean, I support our troops, I do. And I respect you, Sam. But I know you’ve had your troubles, too, so you might not be the most objective about this guy, you know?”
Sam thought maybe he was a little more objective about him than T. J., seeing as how he’d been through it, but he didn’t argue. He shook his hand, and said, “Thanks anyway.”
All Tony needed was a break. Just one. Sam believed in him.
He picked up a couple of things he needed before leaving and walked out, pausing on the walk to notice that the sky was even grayer than when he’d gone in. Gray was a perfect match for his mood.
“Hey, Sam, wait up!”
He turned around to see Gwen Spangler walking toward him. She was holding the hand of her son, who was dressed for soccer, and Sam instantly assumed the worst. “Everything okay?”
“Sure! Everything is great,” she said cheerfully. “I just wanted to say hi. How are you?”
Sam liked Gwen. She had a short bob of blond hair and was wearing dental scrubs with a lot of smiling teeth plastered on them. “I’m good. How are you?”
“I honestly can’t complain. I guess I could complain about how busy we are—it seems like we work all the time, but then again, someone has to pay the bills, right?”
“Right.” Sam was lucky—he didn’t worry about bills. He lived so simply that he’d actually amassed a sizable nest egg.
“I haven’t seen you around,” she said. “In fact, I don’t see you unless . . . you know.” She glanced down at Max. “When there’s some drama in town.” She gave him a lighthearted roll of her eyes. “Speaking of which, I hear she’s determined to get on the Leo bandwagon and cause more trouble.”