Wrinkles deepened on Walter’s forehead. “Happened? Something happened?”
Bo patted Lucky’s shoulder. Lucky took the hint and stopped his line of questioning. “I saw your missus the other day.”
Walter gave him a fond smile. “She was here.”
With every short answer, Lucky’s heart fell. It dragged the floor by the time he left.
***
Bo went down to bring the car around while Lucky said goodbye to Walter. “You get better, old man. I miss you.”
Walter clung tightly to Lucky’s hand. “Do you have to go?”
Did he? Walter’s pleading eyes pulled at his heartstrings. “I have to go feed two starving wolves disguised as my nephews.” If they hadn’t already gnawed their way through the cupboard. Had he eaten so much at their age? Yeah, probably. “I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
“You do that, Son.”
Son. Such an innocent word that could mean so little or so much. Made Lucky warm all over. “See you tomorrow, Dad.” Nothing said he couldn’t have two fathers.
***
Bo hadn’t fooled Lucky for an instant—he’d engineered a chance for Lucky to be alone with Walter. Who knew all those years ago, when Lucky first scowled at Walter in the visiting area of the Durham Correctional Center, that he’d come to love the man?
Lucky hopped into the Camaro Bo had pulled up outside the exit. “You okay?” Bo asked.
Was he? “I will be.”
“The effects are likely temporary. Walter will get better every day, you’ll see.” Bo’s tight smile cut Walter’s chances to nil. No, Bo had said he’d get better, so damn it, Walter had to fully recover.
“I’m just glad he’s still alive.” Whatever it took, Lucky would guarantee the Smiths lacked for nothing.
Bo laced the fingers of his free hand with Lucky’s. “Me too.”
They didn’t say much on the way home until Bo pulled into the empty driveway. “Where’s your Durango?”
“I gave Todd money this morning and loaned him the keys so he could take his brother shopping. He needed things for his dorm room, and Ty needed a pair of tennis shoes. Thought we might want some time alone after we visited the hospital. They cut the Smiths’ grass earlier today.”
Lucky glared at Bo. “You knew he’d begun speaking again, didn’t you?”
Bo lowered his gaze. “Yes, but I hoped he’d have improved some since I talked to Mrs. Smith.”
Together they trudged up to the front door. Lucky unlocked and turned the doorknob, and promptly hit the floor. “Ack! Moose, you monster, get off of me!”
Bo let out a laugh. “That’s why I let you go first.” He stepped over Lucky and grabbed the dog’s collar, leading him to the back yard. “C’mon, Moose. A man can take only so much slobber.”
Moose’s tail swung back and forth, crashing into Cat Lucky snoozing on the chair arm. The cat hissed.
“Kids.” Bo opened the door and let the dog outside.
Lucky picked himself up off the floor. When Bo needed incentive to get off the couch, Lucky should’ve gotten a chihuahua.
Bo strode into the kitchen, washed up, and pulled a few vegetables out of the refrigerator. “Would you mind feeding the dog and cat while I fix dinner?”
“Sure.” All Lucky wanted to do was wrap himself around Bo and stay there forever. However, whining from the back yard offered a call to duty. When a one hundred twenty-pound dog wanted dinner, you fed him. The cat too, or he might smother Bo and Lucky in their bed.
When he slid open the back door, Moose barreled inside. Grabbing the doorframe kept Lucky on his feet. Bo yelped from the kitchen, probably felled by a four-footed missile. “Damn it, Moose! Lucky, I meant for you to feed him outside.”
Lucky ran into the kitchen and hauled Bo off the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He reached into the pantry and pulled out a bag of dog food nearly as big as himself. Moose sat in front of him, tail slapping against the cabinet.
