Chapter 4
Dash sat in the rocking chair, trying not to worry about Aunt Mim. And the more he tried to push his worry aside, the more annoyed he got at the kid. Todd was sitting on the porch swing with his video game and his earphones.
The kid was not his problem. Miriam was. But every time he glanced Todd’s way, something jolted through him. He recognized that kid. He knew him inside and out. And having to sit here and watch him was driving Dash right up a wall. He wanted to escape to Dottie’s place, but she’d made it clear that he was no longer welcome there.
He ground his teeth together and glanced at the kid again. Jeez, he looked pasty white. He needed to get out in the sun. Too bad it wasn’t quite warm enough to take him down to the river for a swim.
Maybe he could put the kid to work mucking out stalls. He smiled at the thought. Then he checked himself. What the hell did he know about kids anyway?
Dash closed his eyes, leaned his head back on the rocker, and listened to the crickets. If Uncle Earnest were still alive, he would put the kid to work at the theater. Dash’s heart thumped against his ribs. Yeah, and Uncle Harry would have picked a fight. Harry and Dash had fought with each other from day one. The old man was still being feisty the day before he died. Dash and Harry were way too much alike. It was the Randall blood in their veins.
But Uncle Earnest never raised his voice. He just showed up with a pair of baseball gloves and a ball.
Of course. Why hadn’t Dash thought of that before?
Dash stood up and headed into the house. He took the steps as quickly as his bum knee would let him. His gloves were tucked into a wooden trunk at the foot of his bed. He pulled out his gamer and a slightly smaller mitt that he still kept oiled, with a baseball tucked into the pocket so it wouldn’t lose its shape. It was old now, but it had the patina of a glove well used. He remembered the day Uncle Earnest had brought it home.
He picked it up and headed downstairs. “Hey, kid,” he said when he reached the porch again.
He didn’t get much of a reaction. The kid was tuned out most of the time.
He leaned over and plucked the PSP from Todd’s hands. The earbuds came out of the kid’s ears.
“Hey, gimme that back.”
Dash turned and hurled the game into the pine trees along the front of the yard. Hopefully the pine needles would provide a soft landing for the gadget; otherwise Dash was going to be out a few hundred to replace the thing.
Todd stood up, the expression on his face telegraphing pure belligerence. “Mom’s right, you’re crazy.”
“Well, even a stopped clock is right twice a day,” Dash said.
The kid frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Move, I gotta go find my PSP.”
“Nope. You’re going to play catch with me.”
Todd glared at the baseball gloves in Dash’s hand. “I don’t want to play catch. Baseball sucks.”
“Watch your mouth, young man,” Miriam said from her rocker, proving that the old woman was not dozing like Dash had thought.
“Are you afraid?” Dash asked.
“You’re kidding, right? What would I be afraid of?” The kid’s face got just a tiny bit pink, proving that he was scared.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Dash said, “dropping the ball, throwing like a girl, getting hit in the eye.”
“No.” Todd’s reply was pure bravado.
“Well, you should know something about baseball. It’s the only game where you fail two-thirds of the time. Dropping a ball is as common as the rain.”
“Well, I don’t want to play. And you can’t make me. I’m going to get my PSP, and it better not be broken.”
Todd sidestepped Dash. He marched himself down the porch steps and into the pine trees where Dash had tossed the game.
“Nice try,” Miriam said, “but throwing the video game was a little over the top.”
“Yeah, but it was direct. I’ve been watching Savannah, and she doesn’t seem to be able to stop him by reasoning with him.”
Miriam shrugged. “She’s doing the best she can. It’s not easy being a single mom. And you don’t remember, but it took Earnest a few weeks before you gave in and played catch with him.” She looked up at him with a smile that burned a hole in his chest. He loved Miriam with all his heart. He couldn’t remember his mother, and his memories of his grandmother were so vague. But Miriam had always been there. Miriam and her brother Earnest. Not even blood relations, but they had changed Dash’s life in countless ways. He had screwed things up, but he knew that he would probably never have made it this far were it not for Miriam and Earnest.
“I’m mighty proud of you for trying. Don’t give up,” Miriam said. “That boy needs help.”
Dash didn’t know whether to feel good about earning Aunt Mim’s praise or just scared that he’d sort of blundered into a role that he had no idea how to play.
But before he could figure it out, Todd called from the shadow of the pines. “You won’t believe what I just found.”
Dash and Miriam turned just in time to see Todd come striding from the pines holding the ugliest damn puppy Dash had ever set eyes on. Its body was a nondescript brown with a white face and a head that was way too big for its skinny body. The puppy’s hind end was wagging, and its pink tongue was giving Todd’s face a going-over.
“Well, if that isn’t an answer to my prayers,” Miriam said. “Just look at the smile on that boy’s face.”
Hettie snubbed the cigarette out on the pavement just as Nita came out of the library and locked the front doors.
“You know,” Nita said, “you aren’t fooling anyone, Hettie. We all know you smoke. And I, for one, know you have read Pride and Prejudice.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Call it a librarian’s intuition. What are you up to?”
“I’m trying to save the town.”
Nita chuckled.
“You need a ride home?” Hettie asked.
“Is this a peace offering?”
“I reckon. I didn’t mean to usurp your leadership, Nita. But the girls need a break, and I didn’t want you to make Savannah feel unwelcome. You have heard that she owns The Kismet.”
“Yes, I’ve heard. And I also know that it would take a ton of money to fix up that old place. Any fool can see that. Where is a person like Savannah going to get the money to do that?”
“She needs an angel.”
“Oh, Lordy, are you going to start in on that now?”
“Get in the car, Nita. I’m sorry if I cut you off during the meeting today.”
Nita slipped into the passenger’s seat, and Hettie started the engine. Her little Audi purred.
“Well, I’m all right with reading Pride and Prejudice. I’m sure Cathy will enjoy herself, and maybe y’all will come ready to talk about the book instead of swapping recipes and asking Molly to fix your knitting projects.”
“Oh, Nita, life is short. We love your book club because you always let us swap recipes, and talk about knitting and babies, and whatever else happens to be on everyone’s mind at the moment. We love you, even if you are trying to improve our minds.”
“And you could use some improvement. All of y’all.”
“Don’t sulk, now. We need to join ranks and make sure Savannah stays and fixes up the theater. And you are part of that, whether you like it or not. Rocky’s on a mission to get Savannah all tied up in our social life. And my job is to find the angel.”
“You might try talking to Bert Rhodes. He’s got a whole golf course filled with angels.”
“I am not talking about that kind of angel. I’m talking about an angel investor.”
“Oh.”
“You know, someone who puts money into a lost cause for the love of it instead of the return it’s unlikely to give.” Hettie turned her car on to Palmetto Avenue just in time to see Zeph Gibbs shuffling down the sidewalk, heading toward his old Ford truck.
“Poor old Zeph,” Nita said.
“It’s just disgraceful the way he camps out in the swamp,” Hettie said. “He probably should be living in a VA hospital. Maybe we should do something about him.”
“No. He’s fine where he is. He loves the woods. And I don’t think it was Vietnam that made him the way he is. He kind of withdrew after Luke Raintree died.”
“You talk like you know him well.”
Nita shrugged. “I knew him real well when I was a girl. We were in the same graduating class at Dubois High. The last one, in fact, before Dubois and Davis were integrated. He was always shy. But I do remember how he used to sing in the AME choir. He had a beautiful baritone. But he hasn’t been to church recently. I hire him sometimes to do odd jobs around the house. There are a lot of us living south of Julia who do that. He’s got a gift for carpentry.”
“I didn’t know. I always thought he was living on disability or VA benefits, or something.”
“I don’t think so. I think Zeph is just way off the grid.” Nita let go of a mournful sigh as they passed Zeph and The Kismet’s sagging marquee. “Hettie, where on earth are you going to find an angel like the one you’ve been talking about?”
“I believe he may be closer than we think.”
Dash leaned on the fence and watched Lizzy Rhodes as she put Desperado through his paces. The teenager’s riding abilities had become so impressive that she’d exceeded his skills as a teacher. Dash made a note to talk to Sheriff Rhodes about getting Lizzy a more experienced trainer. She was good enough to consider show riding.
Dash let go of a breath and looked away, over the gently rolling hills that surrounded the Painted Corner Stables. The place was his pride and joy. Unfortunately, his program for breeding American Paints had been less than a financial success. Not that he cared about money all that much. He had more than any man could possibly want.
The Astros had given him a forty-million-dollar, five-year contract to play for them. He’d busted up his knee during the last year of that agreement, right in the middle of a contract renegotiation that would have probably netted him more than one hundred million for an additional five years. Dash had been hitting .290 with thirty home runs when he had one too many beers and let a blond bimbo talk him into getting on a Harley.
And even though that mistake had cost him millions of dollars, he still didn’t regret the lost money. He regretted his lost reputation far more.
He cast his gaze over the land surrounding the stables. He owned most of it. He’d bought it up cheap, and even considering the economic downturn, he’d done okay reselling some of it. Last Chance was booming because of deBracy Ltd.
He caught sight of the cloud of dust in the corner of his eye. He’d been expecting it.
Every afternoon, Hettie Marshall took her rescued Thoroughbred, A Wing and a Prayer, out for daily exercise. And every afternoon, Dash awaited her return like a faithful puppy. Of course, he pretended to be busy with stable business, but he was waiting for that moment when she’d come riding up the old clay road. He lived for the few minutes they would share together de-tacking her horse.
Lizzy finished putting Desperado through his paces just as Hettie arrived. The girl dismounted and started walking Desperado around the corral to cool him down. Wing trumpeted a greeting as he came up. Dash hung on the fence and watched Hettie dismount and gather up Wing’s lead. She sure had a nice figure. Hettie joined the girl in the corral as they walked their horses.
When Lizzy’s horse was cool enough, Dash took him into the stable and de-tacked him.
He was just finishing up when Hettie and Wing came down the aisle.
“You’re just the man I want to see,” Hettie said.
“I’ve been waiting decades to hear you say that to me.”
Hettie gave him a long look that didn’t bode well for his suit. He could practically feel the annoyance coming off her in waves. Hettie knew too many of Dash’s secrets.
And he knew too many of hers.
That balance kept them in each other’s orbit like gravity.
“So what have I done now?” Dash said, coming up to walk on Wing’s right side.
“Rocky called me. She told me all about Mr. Brooks’s granddaughter and her idea for reopening The Kismet. And I met Savannah last night at the book club meeting. She stood up to Nita Wills. I was pretty impressed by that.”
“I really don’t want to talk about Savannah. She annoys me. Last night, she came home from the book club and told her son that he had to get rid of the stray dog he’d found. Honestly, she completely missed the way the kid had bonded with the dog. She reminds me of her high-and-mighty mother, and I always hated Aunt Katie Lynne.”
Hettie slipped the reins back over Wing’s head and started taking off his bridle. “She didn’t come across as high and mighty to me. What else do you know about her?”
He rested his hand on Wing’s neck, his gaze zeroing in on Hettie. The horse nickered. “She’s my cousin, sort of, but that doesn’t mean I know all that much about her.”
“Sort of?”
“She’s related to Miriam. I’m related to Harry. Savannah and I aren’t related at all. Except we seem to have family in common.”
“Is she as smart as she seems?” Hettie stared at Dash over Wing’s back. She slipped the horse’s halter over his ears and snapped the left crosstie onto it.
“I don’t know. I guess. Her momma, Aunt Kate, is a snob and a college professor. I don’t like either of them. We were not close cousins.”
“In addition to not really being cousins at all?”
“I guess.”
“Is she well financed?”
He snorted as he snapped the right-hand crosstie to Wing’s halter. “She has no money. She has no real idea. I mean, it would be crazy to try to reopen a theater here in the middle of nowhere.”
Hettie stared at him, and Dash got that perennial sinking feeling right in the middle of his chest. Damn it, he’d disappointed her again. “What?” he asked.
They stood staring over the horse’s back. And, boy howdy, did Dash get lost in those violet eyes of hers.
“Don’t you look at me like that, Dash Randall.”
“Like what?”
“Like a lovesick puppy. I’m not interested.”
Dash decided it was time to be brave. “Hettie, is it just me you’re not interested in, or is it men in general? I’d like to know so I can devise my plan of attack.”
“Your plan of attack?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have decided to make a play for you.”
She looked away. “Dash, please. I’ve always liked you. But I don’t want to be tying myself down again to any man. For the first time in my life, I’m living the way I want to. And I’m thinking I could do some good things for this town. And that includes doing something about that old theater. So can you just focus on that? I need to know as much as I can about this sort-of cousin of yours.”
And so Dash found himself once again talking about his least favorite subject—Cousin Savannah.
“There isn’t anything to say about Savannah,” he said. “She was a spoiled kid. Her granddaddy left her the theater. And up until yesterday, she believed she could revive it. I set her straight.”
“You what?”
“I set her straight. We went over there. The roof is falling down, there are bats in the rafters, and the projection system is both antiquated and rat-chewed. It would take more money than Savannah could raise to bring it up to code. And even then, she couldn’t make a living at it. There’s no way a theater like that competes with the new multiplex up in Orangeburg. She’s just pipe dreaming, Hettie. And folks like you and Rocky shouldn’t be talking all over town about how this is going to happen. People miss The Kismet’s lights, but the theater is dead.”
Hettie started unbuckling the left-hand girth of Wing’s saddle. “So,” she said after a long moment, “you don’t have any pipe dreams?”
Of course he did. Returning to the major leagues was one of them. Having Hettie Johnson Marshall fall head-over-heels for him was another. But he wasn’t going to talk about his dreams. That would expose too many raw nerves. “What do my dreams have to do with The Kismet?” he asked instead.
“Nothing. I was just thinking that, after what you did for Lord Woolham, maybe you could help with this Kismet thing, too.”
“Hettie, investing in Hugh’s business was a good idea. He had a revolutionary, patented improvement to the industrial weaving process that was practically guaranteed to give me a return on the investment. But The Kismet is…” His voice faded out.
“What is it, Dash?”
He sighed. “Well, it’s sort of like the Painted Corner Stables. It’s a nice idea but it’s never going to make anyone rich.”
“You don’t need to become rich. You’re already richer than anyone else in town.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
Dash didn’t respond. He focused on unbuckling the right side of the saddle. He lifted it off Wing’s back, then turned and lowered the saddle and pad to a rack sitting outside Wing’s stall.
“Dash, if you really want to change the way folks around here see you, you’ll think about this. Last Chance is in the middle of a mini revival. We’ve got more jobs here than we’ve ever had before. We’ve got new people moving in. Those people need a business district that they can be proud of. Not some ghost of ages past. You could do something for this town, too.”
He stared at Hettie for a very long moment. If he did this for her, would she change her mind? And if he put himself out there, would she hurt him again?
“Savannah doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who has the first idea of how to write a business plan,” he said. He knew it was a lame excuse even as the words left his lips.
Hettie bent over, pulled up Wing’s front left hoof, and attacked it with her hoof pick. “Well then, you can teach her.”
“But—”
“No buts. If we let her leave town without giving her a helping hand, we might never be able to do anything about that eyesore right in the middle of town. This is our chance, Dash, and like it or not you, me, Rocky, and Tulane Rhodes are the people who have to step up and become the town’s economic boosters. Rocky is all for this thing. She’s been introducing Savannah around town, and people like her. You should have seen the way she turned things around at the book club last night.”
“Of course everyone likes her. That’s how she lures people in before she strikes.”
Hettie put the horse’s leg down and straightened up. She gave Dash a smile that could still melt his heart. “Dash, you need to get over whatever happened between you and that woman when you were children. And besides, it would make me happy if you did this. So, won’t you please do it? For me?”
God in Heaven, she looked like the debutante he’d fallen in love with when he was seventeen.
He should walk away. She had hurt him so many times before. Like everyone else he had loved. But Dottie Cox had been right on Monday night. If he didn’t do something to make a change, then he would be alone for the rest of his life. And besides, he would do anything for Hettie. He loved her that much.
So he squared his shoulders and looked her right in the eye. “Okay, Hettie. I’ll do it for you.”
Last Chance Book Club
Hope Ramsay's books
- Last Chance to Die
- Lasting Damage
- The Last Policeman
- Last Call (Cocktail #5)
- A Fighting Chance
- The Book of Madness and Cures
- The Cherry Cola Book Club
- The Mammoth Book of Historical Crime Fic
- SIX MONTHS_(A Seven Series Novel Book 2)
- Book of Lost Threads
- Book of Shadows
- The Book of Fires
- The Book of Murder
- The Book of Spies
- The Book of Three