Page 77 of The Billionaire Land Baron

Shelby was used to talking. “Save your words,” she could hear her daddy saying in her head. She was certainly saving them on this trip. When she almost ran out of gas, she didn’t have anyone to worry with. As she crossed state lines, she felt like she should mark the transition somehow, but felt dumb saying, “New state!” out loud. Whenever possible she stopped to eat at diners, sitting at the counter and driving the servers crazy by talking to them as they worked.

People liked talking at the RV parks, but less than she’d thought. Laundromats, she found, were fabulous for conversation. It was a sweet relief when her cutoffs started getting that too-soft feeling and she ran out of T-shirts. She could sit on the counter, folding, and hear about Marian’s life story or Sara’s crazy ex. Driving away, she knew that she would never see them again, but for a moment, they had shared a bit of life together.

Mostly, it was miles and miles of road with no words.

She hadn’t been away from her father in years and didn’t realize how important the routine of making him breakfast, checking in on him, and fixing dinner and getting his pills and water was to her. Was her mama taking care of that now? She half-expected to hear that Mama had left every time she called home to talk to Daddy. The date for them to move was closing in, but she didn’t mention it and neither did Daddy.

It felt strange to not be needed. Everything in Lucky could just go on without her.

There was an extra ache of loneliness that came from missing Jake. Knowing him, having a teasing taste of what a relationship would be like, and then losing that as quickly as she’d gotten it. As angry as she had been that he wasn’t fully honest, she forgave him. She understood it, to a point. And it was done.

She thought of him as she read books on the e-reader. Though she still preferred actual books in her hand, she loved the ease of the tablet. She could read a book while eating without the issue of trying to turn a page with one hand. At night the soft glow made it easy. It made her happy and sad to think of Jake as she read.

She tried not to let herself think too often about him or what he was doing now, if he missed her, or where he’d been going that last day she saw him in Lucky in his painted-up car. She felt really bad about the car, like it was half her fault too. She knew the town felt protective of her. And he hadn’t just been taking on her, but the town itself with the development deal. It was for her, but also for them that they pulled that stunt. She wondered how much it was to repaint.

Shelby told herself that it wasn’t for Jake that she shifted course, north toward Chicago. There were the Great Lakes, which she felt like she needed to see. She had always wanted to try the pizza. And the hot dogs. Even though she didn’t want to go to a baseball game by herself, she wanted to at least drive by Wrigley Field to say she’d been. That was half of this trip: going places to say she’d been.

But when she saw the skyline, her heart started beating faster. Was Jake in one of those buildings right now? What if she sent him a message, telling him that she was right there? Would he respond? Would he come running? She could picture his broad shoulders and wide smile, jogging towards where she stood, eating a hot dog from the stand. He would probably toss it in the trash, telling her that she wasn’t eating the right kind. Jake would take her hand and lead her on a real tour of Chicago. Her heart clenched at the thought, at how much she could picture his blue eyes lighting up, how the sun would make his red-brown hair look redder.

Shelby threw her hot dog paper away and continued on the Lakefront Trail, one of the places she’d highlighted in her travel guidebook. She couldn’t help but notice couples walking along, some hand in hand and a few where the guy had his arm slung casually over the woman’s shoulders. Shelby brushed aside tears that surprised her as she went. She ached for that kind of casual intimacy. Someone to hold her hand as she walked, someone to talk to about the everyday, big or small.

Not just someone. Jake.

She was headed back to the truck and trailer when she found a scruffy dog at her heels. He was a rusty brown, almost orange, with stiff fur that stood up in some places and looked matted in others. His ears were two triangles pointing up, tongue lolling out of his mouth, making him look like he was smiling at her.

“Oh, hello,” she said. “Lost?”

He sat down on his haunches and cocked his head at her, like he was really listening.

“Where’s your owner? No collar, hm. Are you friendly?”

Shelby had never had a dog before. T-Ball was the closest she’d come to a pet. A wild alligator was hardly the same thing. But she talked to him, too, so why not this stray?

“You look a little scrawny. You hungry?”

The dog panted, which looked like a yes.

“Tell you what, dog. You follow me and I’ll buy you a world-famous Chicago hot dog. I don’t know exactly why they’re world famous, since a hot dog is a hot dog is a hot dog, but maybe you can tell me. Oh, and they aren’t made of dog. Just so we’re clear.”

Shelby liked the way he cocked his head while she was talking, like he was really listening. She started walking back to the stand where she bought her hot dog a few minutes before. She halfway expected the dog to be gone, but he stayed a foot behind her left side while she walked and then sat at her heels while she ordered a plain hot dog.

“You can’t feed that to the dog,” the vendor said as she turned towards the dog.

“Why not?” The hot dog was poised in the air and the dog licked his chops.

“We don’t want people feeding strays. Then they just hang around, messing up the park.”

“He’s not a stray. He’s mine and I’ll feed him a hot dog if I want to.” She snatched it from his hand.

The man rolled his eyes, but Shelby took the hot dog out of its paper and handed it to the dog. He took it gently from her hand, but then scarfed it down in two bites, then sat up, like he was looking for more. Shelby bought two more, one for her and one for the dog and headed back toward the truck, the dog at her heels. He followed her all the way back to the lot, stopping at crosswalks as she did, and hopping into the cab of the truck when she opened the door. He sat down in the passenger seat and looked at her expectantly, as though this was all according to plan.

“I hope Matt’s okay with a dog in his truck. You won’t pee in here, right? Just whine if you need to go and we can stop. I hope you aren’t sold on Chicago because we’re Texas-bound. Is that okay with you?”

His tongue lolled happily and that was all she needed. Shelby stopped at a pet store on the way out of town, getting him a plain black collar, a leash, and a bag of dog food, plus two bowls, one for food and one for water. When he nudged at a rope and a pink squeaky toy, she bought those too.

“I’m spoiling you, dog,” she said. “You happened to catch me at just the right time. Otherwise, I would have left you right there in the park.” She scratched him behind the ears and he appeared to beam, nudging her hand when she stopped.

“Do you want to get tags for the collar?” The cashier said as Shelby checked out.

“Tags?”

“You know, in case he gets lost. You put your name and number on there, or his name.” The cashier pointed to a machine nearby.

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

Shelby slipped the collar and leash onto the dog and walked over to the machine. He seemed used to walking with the leash and continued to keep pace just to her left. The machine had tiny silver tags in the shape of bones or hearts or circles.

“I guess I need a name for you, huh. If I’m going to get a tag made. Let’s see. Dog is too obvious. We’re in Chicago…Cubs? Cubby? Deep dish? I’m bad at this.” She put a finger to her lips. “If you were a girl, I’d call you Windy. Get it? For the Windy City?”

The dog just smiled, waiting. And suddenly she knew just what name she was going to use. She swiped her credit card on the machine and typed in her number and the name: City.

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