LITMIR.BIZ

      SATURDAY MORNING, Jack dropped Nugget off at the office, then headed into downtown Crested Butte and the Humane Society Festival. The young dog was still skittish in crowds, but Jack felt he needed to make an appearance at the fund-raiser before he set to work on the bid for the condo project. He’d make sure his crew had done a good job on the Humane Society booth, and later he’d point out to his dad that he hadn’t spent the entire weekend working.

      The festival activities filled the parking lot of the Chamber of Commerce and continued down the streets on either side. Tourists mingled with locals among booths sponsored by local businesses, individual craftspeople and community groups. A stage had been set up for the entertainment that was scheduled throughout the day.

      Jack maneuvered around a clown on stilts, a face painter and a woman leading a llama, working his way toward the large booth Crenshaw Construction had built to house the Humane Society volunteers and some of the animals available for adoption.

      “Jack, my man, you’re just the dude I’m looking for.”

      A lanky figure with blond dreadlocks brought Jack up short. A glittering electric guitar hung from a strap around the man’s neck. “Zephyr!” Jack shook the hand of the local rocker, talk-show host and all-around Crested Butte character. “Are you performing for the benefit?”

      “We’re supposed to go on in fifteen minutes, but whoever put together the stage didn’t leave enough room for all our equipment.” Zephyr frowned at Jack. “Dude, tell me you weren’t responsible.”

      “I didn’t build the stage,” Jack said. “What can I do to help?”

      “Bryan and I borrowed a flatbed trailer from Max and maneuvered it up next to the stage,” Zephyr said. “We found some old boards to form a bridge to connect the two areas, but we need someone who’s better at construction than we are to put the thing together.”

      “Do you have any tools?” Jack asked.

      “Yeah. I’ve been enclosing part of my girlfriend’s back porch, so I hauled everything over from there.”

      Jack followed Zephyr through the crowd where he found Bryan Perry and Max Overbridge, who owned a snowboard and bicycle shop, wrestling with a collection of plywood and two-by-fours. “I brought an expert to help us out,” Zephyr said.

      Jack surveyed the mess in front of him. “Do you have a saw?” he asked.

      “Sure.” Zephyr produced a rusting handsaw.

      “What about a drill?” Jack asked.

      “I’ve got that.” Max held up a small cordless one.

      “What do you need us to do?” Bryan asked.

      “Hold on, guys,” Jack said. “I’ve got some better tools in my truck. I’ll be right back.”

      So much for taking the morning off. He started toward the lot where he’d left his truck, but hadn’t gone far before a blur of pink and yellow shot from the crowd and collided with his legs.

      “Whoa there. Are you okay?” He looked down at the little girl who sat in a heap at his feet. She wore her bright blond hair in pigtails, and her pink short overalls had a row of dancing kittens across the chest.

      She turned tear-filled eyes up to him. “My mommy won’t let me have a puppy and it’s not fair!” she wailed.

      Jack looked around for some sign of a wayward mom, but saw nothing but a few strangers who looked at the girl with sympathy—and at Jack as if he was responsible for her tears. He dropped to one knee and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he said. “Who is your mommy?”

      “She’s the meanest mommy in the whole world!”

      “I don’t believe it,” Jack said. The little girl had obviously been dressed with care, and she looked clean and healthy.

      She snuffled and glared at him. “She is, too, the meanest,” she said. “She knows how much I want a puppy and she won’t let me have one.”

      “Maybe she has a good reason,” Jack said. “Maybe where you live doesn’t allow dogs.”

      “We live with my grandma and grandpa and they already have a dog.” The little girl stuck out her lower lip. “But Misty’s old. I want a puppy.”

      “Then maybe your grandma and grandpa don’t want another dog. Sometimes we have to take other people’s feelings into consideration.”

      “My grandma and grandpa love me. They let me have anything I want. If they knew I wanted a puppy they’d let me have one.”

      Jack felt a stab of sympathy for the unknown mother who had to deal with this kind of childhood logic. “I’m sure your mother loves you, too,” he said. Though where was her mother now? “What’s your name?” he added.

      “Annie. What’s your name?”

      “I’m Jack. Jack Crenshaw.” Should he insist she call him Mr. Crenshaw? The idea made him feel old. He stood and offered Annie his hand. “Why don’t we go find your mother now?”

      “Will you ask her if I can have a puppy?”

      “I think you need to listen to your mother. If she tells you you can’t have a puppy, maybe you need to wait.”

      Annie stuck out her lower lip, and Jack sensed tears threatening. “I tell you what,” he said. “I have a young dog. Maybe your mom would let you visit and play with it.” He crossed his fingers that this would be all right with Mom. He could always ask his secretary to supervise a brief playdate in the meadow behind his office. Nugget would love it.

      “Anne Marie Olney! What do you think you’re doing?”

      Jack looked up and caught his breath at the sight of Tanya striding toward him. Her long hair billowing around her, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with anger, she resembled a painting he’d once seen of one of the Furies, or some other avenging goddess. With a jolt he realized the girl he’d always thought of as pretty had grown into a very beautiful woman.

      “Hello, Tanya,” he said, keeping his expression even, revealing none of the inner turmoil the sight of her caused.

      “What are you doing with my little girl?” Her voice was even, but her eyes were fixed on his hand holding Annie’s.

      He let go of the child, guilt heating his face, though he knew he’d done nothing wrong. “I found her wandering in the crowd.” He looked down at Annie. Her tears had dried, but if looks could kill, Tanya would be seriously wounded right now. “She seems upset.”

      The guilt card was in Tanya’s hand

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