Clark reached out and patted Calla possessively on her rump. She jumped a little, nearly dropping the stack of dirty plates she was carrying to the sink.Henry’s fingers tightened around the short glass of whiskey he was holding. Too bad she didn’t drop ‘em, he thought. Right onto Dartmouth’s sorry lap.Henry was well on his way to drunk, and he knew it. He couldn’t remember the last time … yes, he could. He’d drunk himself to a stupor the night Heidi left him. It was the least he could do in honor of his short and wretched marriage. He raised the glass to his lips and drained the last of the liquor. And glared gloomily at Dartmouth.“You have a good trip?” Jackson inquired politely of Clark. He stepped over to the counter, retrieved the whiskey bottle and poured a healthy amount of the amber liquid into Henry’s glass. Calla’s eyes flew to her father in wide astonishment“Very good.” Clark was smiling broadly. Henry wondered with scientific precision just how many of those capped teeth he could take out with one punch.
What do You think about Knight In A White Stetson?
