Chapter 3
S eth turned down the long gravel driveway that led to his childhood home. Gomer sat alert in the passenger seat, his dark gaze scanning the fields and trees as they approached the small, weathered house tucked against the edge of the property.
Damn, it hit him just how much the place needed attention. Desperately.
The white paint was peeling, flaking off in thin strips like dried leaves, and a few shingles were missing from the roof. He made a mental note to inspect the attic as soon as possible. If there was water damage up there, it could lead to a far worse problem.
Inside the house, his father had let things go.
Seth wouldn’t call Chester a hoarder, but the man hadn’t thrown out anything that might one day prove useful since Seth’s mother had died.
Stacks of cartons, bulging paper bags, old magazines, and random boxes cluttered the rooms. Bonfire fodder, all of it.
He’d work on it while he stayed with his dad. Seth had called as soon as he and Gomer landed in Rapid City to let Chester know they were on their way. Ken was stopping by later to give him a rundown on how his dad had been doing while he was gone.
As he pulled into the driveway, the front door creaked open, revealing Chester Hansen, squinting through the mesh of the screen door with his hands planted on his hips.
Seth got out and walked around the truck, letting Gomer hop down beside him. The old man watched them both with a mix of suspicion and confusion.
“What are you doing here, boy?” Chester growled, voice rough from years of hard living. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the military?”
Seth kept his tone steady, patient. “No, Dad. I’m retired now. I was here just a couple of days ago, remember? ”
Chester frowned, eyes narrowing. “Of course, I remember.”
But Seth could tell from the blank look in his father’s eyes that he didn’t.
“What the hell is that?” Chester pointed toward Gomer.
“This is my military working dog. He’s retired now, so he’ll be staying here with us.”
“Dogs don’t belong in the house,” Chester snapped. “You can put him out in the barn.”
“Dad, this one belongs in the house. He’s a drug detection dog and one of the best trackers in Europe.”
Chester crossed his arms and looked down at Gomer, who sat calmly beside Seth, his ears forward, posture obedient and proud.
“Then why the hell ain’t it in Europe?”
“He’s got some arthritis. They’re putting him out to pasture because he’s slowed down.”
Chester’s arms fell to his sides as he stared at the dog. His voice dropped, quieter now. “They do that to dogs and humans. Slow down, and the world just forgets about you. Leaves you behind. What’s his name?”
“Gomer. ”
Chester snorted. “What in the name of muddy water would you call a dog that for?”
Seth grinned, remembering having the same thought when he’d first heard the name.
“I didn’t name him, Dad. The Air Force did.”
“Well, then, the Air Force is stupider than muddy water.”
“If you say so, Pops.”
“Well, I do,” Chester muttered, then added, “I suppose you want me to be nice to it now, don’t you?”
Seth nodded once. “Well, sir, I would appreciate it.”
Chester reached down and gave Gomer a rough pat on the head. “Come on. I’m hungry. You probably could do with a bite.” He cast a look back over his shoulder at Seth. “You can fix your own food.”
Seth rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”
He grabbed his backpack and the large bag of dog food he’d picked up in Rapid City, slinging both over his shoulder. Once inside, he dropped them near the entryway and headed for the kitchen, where he froze in the doorway.
Chester was sitting at the table, breaking off chunks of sharp cheddar and feeding them to Gomer one piece at a time.
“Dad, I’ve got dog food for him. You’re gonna spoil him giving him people food.”
“You said he was put out to pasture,” Chester said without looking up. “Seems to me that pasture ought to be lush. All us old cantankerous farts want a lush pasture. Whether we get it or not.”
Seth rolled his eyes. “Just don’t give him too much of that, Dad. I don’t want him to get sick.”
Chester reached for another piece of cheese. “No promises. You just go tend to you,” Chester said, waving Seth off like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I’ve had dogs before. I know how much is too much.”
Seth didn’t argue. He knew better than to push when his father had that look in his eye.
He went to the sink, turned on the faucet, and washed his hands. Through the window, he caught sight of Ken’s cruiser easing down the gravel drive.
“Dad,” he called over his shoulder, “Ken’s coming down the drive. I’m gonna go see what he needs.”
Chester didn’t respond, just waved one hand in a dismissive circle as he continued breaking the cheese into small chunks, popping one into his mouth, then giving one to Gomer .
Seth shook his head. At this rate, Gomer would need double his exercise. Too much weight on a dog with arthritis wasn’t just uncomfortable; it was dangerous.
Ken parked in front of the house and stepped out of his SUV, nodding a greeting as Seth came outside.
“He was fine every time someone came to check on him,” Ken said, reaching out to shake Seth’s hand.
“Got angry at us for disturbing his peace, though.” He chuckled.
“He’s doing better now. Not as mean. For a while there, I wasn’t sure what was going on. ”
Seth leaned against the SUV, arms crossed over his chest. “He forgot I came home. Asked me why I was back and thought I was still in the military. I’ll take him to Belle Fourche and get him a full physical.
Make sure we know where we’re starting from.
I’ve been reading about treatment options.
Some meds can help clear the fog a bit.”
Ken nodded slowly. “I know this has to be hard on you.”
Seth exhaled through his nose. “I never thought I’d see the day Chester Hansen wasn’t in full control of everything around him.
” He hesitated, then added, “I’ll need to find a lawyer, too.
I talked to Dad a few days ago, during a lucid moment.
He doesn’t have a will. No power of attorney.
Nothing is set up for medical or financial decisions. ”
“My wife’s a lawyer. Family law,” Ken offered.
Seth frowned. “Allison’s a lawyer? I didn’t know that.”
Ken burst out laughing. “I’m not married to Allison.
My wife’s name is Sam. She was a state patrol officer before she became a lawyer.
Runs a small family practice right here in Hollister.
She stays busy writing cattle contracts in the slow season and takes on pro bono cases, too.
We’re expecting our first, adopting a baby actually, and we think she’ll be here in April next year. ”
“Holy crap, congratulations, man.” Seth extended his hand and shook Ken’s. The pride in his expression was priceless.
“Thanks, man. We’re really happy.” He added, “So, if you’re worried you can’t afford to get everything squared away for Chester, she can work something out with you.”
Seth shook his head. “I’m not worried about the money, Ken. I saved and invested pretty well during my time in the military. I’ve got a solid retirement. For what little we need up here, I can take care of Dad and me for a while. At least until he needs to go into a facility. ”
Ken didn’t sugarcoat it. “That’s gonna suck.”
“It will indeed,” Seth agreed, his voice quiet. Pausing, he tilted his head slightly. “So … you didn’t marry Allison? How did that not happen? You two dated forever.”
Ken gave a slow smile. “That’s a long story. One of those you tell over a cold adult beverage.” Ken grinned. “Come to dinner sometime. Sam and I would love to have you over, and we’ll catch you up on all the town’s comings and goings.”
Seth reached out and shook his hand. “Sounds like a plan. Just let me know when and where.”
Behind them, the screen door creaked open, and Gomer trotted outside and came straight to Seth, sitting neatly at his heel, tongue lolling and eyes bright.
Ken looked down. “And who is this?”
Before Seth could answer, Chester shuffled onto the porch.
“That is Gomer,” he said, pointing with one hand. “He got put out to pasture. Just like me.”
Seth chuckled, patting Gomer’s head. “He’s my military working dog. I adopted him after we both retired.”
Ken frowned and looked at Seth with a raised brow. “You were a dog handler? ”
Seth nodded. “More than that. Started as a handler, then trainer, and moved up to kennel master. Eventually, I ran the MWD Major Command program. Mostly pushing paper. I hated it. Took me away from the dogs.”
Ken lifted an eyebrow, considering that. “Good to know. Real good to know.” He glanced toward his cruiser, then back at Seth. “Well, let me know if you need anything. And, Chester, don’t forget about the Fall Festival next month.”
Seth glanced toward the house. “What’s that?”
He looked at his father, who just blinked at him.
“Hell if I know,” Chester grumbled. “What do I look like, Hollister Social Services?”
Ken stopped mid-step and stared at Chester, baffled. Then he shook his head. “Chester, you know everything about everything that happens in this town.”
Chester shrugged. “Don’t know nothing about no stupid festival.” With that, he turned around and shuffled back into the house, muttering under his breath.
Ken watched him go, mouth twitching with disbelief. “I’ve been in five or six conversations where your father talked about that festival.”
Seth nodded. “Figured as much. ”
Ken let out a slow breath. “Well, just so you know, Declan Howard owns the Bit and Spur now, and he built a community center onto the back of it.”
“I noticed there was a big addition,” Seth said. “Didn’t realize it was a community space.”