Gotham's reaction was beyond precious to him. It was like he was painting what he hoped to be a masterpiece, without being sure if it would turn out as beautifully as he hoped. But as he heard the boy's laughter and felt the little rope of a tail thumping against his side, he was reassured that his work was turning into something lovely. Gotham told him he'd enjoyed the story, and the painting was completed as something outstandingly beautiful. Kansas mentally thanked his son, resisting the urge to scoop him up and hug him close. "I sure did. Glad you did, too," he responded, rubbing his knuckles gently against the kid's head and laughing.
Kansas set the book down on a chair beside him for safekeeping; perhaps Gotham would like to hear to story again at home with his sisters. The Sadira stayed on his knees, crawling toward the nearest shelf and examining the books there. "Hmmm... Here's two more Clifford books. Hold on," Kansas grabbed those two and swung them over to join the one on the chair. He then took a random group of books and spread them out on the floor so Gotham could examine them. "See if there's anything you like here. We can take a bunch home so you guys have plenty." Kansas had oodles of books himself, but they weren't anything that would interest his children at this point. Amata had enjoyed The Yearling, but it was a large book that Kansas didn't expect any of them to enjoy reading on their own.
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