“I forgot. What beats what?”
Hank began to mentally count. At fifty, he said, “A straight flush is tops. Got it?”
The kid nodded.
“You’re sure?”
“A straight flush is tops,” the kid repeated. “Four of a kind beats a full house.”
“Uh-huh.”
“A full house beats a flush. A flush beats a straight. A straight beats three of a kind, and three of a kind beats a pair.”
“Okay.”
“You got it all this time?” Hank’s jaw was tight.
“Theodore.” Smitty stepped between them and knelt in the sand next to the kid. “Can you read?”
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “But Leedee can.” He turned to his sister. “Can’t you?”
Lydia nodded.
“I’ll write them in the sand, and Lydia can read them for you. Then you won’t have to ask Hank anymore.”
They spent another five minutes writing lists in the sand, while Hank twiddled his thumbs for a while. He watched them, then found himself staring at Smitty. She had smashed bananas in her blond hair, but that wasn’t what he found interesting. He let his gaze rove down over her, then stopped. She had great legs.
She was kneeling in the sand, and as she wrote in it, she would move back. Her dress was bunched up at her knees, exposing her lower legs. They were pale and long and sleek.
God, but he loved a woman’s legs. He had always been a sucker for a woman with legs that went on forever.
He watched her stand up and walk back over to the baby, her hips moving in that natural rhythm of a woman. Kind of slow and... come to Papa.
“Hank?”
He pulled his gaze away and looked at the kid. Theodore grinned. “I’m ready.”
Hank gave a quick sigh. “Good.”
“An’ aces are the highest cards?”
“That’s right.” Hank nodded.
“An’ I can take new cards.”
“Yeah. How many do you want?”
“I don’t know.” The kid spent another five minutes frowning at his cards. Finally, he looked at Hank. “Four. I want four cards.”
Hank laughed to himself wickedly. He gave the kid four cards.
“How many are you taking?”
“One.”
“Oh.” The kid paused, then asked, “Only one card?”
Hank shrugged. “I play the long shots.”
