Garrett's Gift

by Jayna Morrow

  “There you go, girl.” He clapped. She downed the ball on a pretend end zone and strutted around in a victory dance.

  “Sometimes you just have to try again.” She picked the ball up and walked over to Garrett instead of tossing it. “It surprises me that you’re a football coach.”

  “Well, they say those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach.” He headed toward the gate.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that, and I don’t believe it. I had some great teachers. But it seems to me you’d want to stay as far away from football as you could get.”

  “I’ve thought about that many times and, deep down, a part of me needs to be around it. Either that or I’m using my job as a way to live vicariously through my high school athletes.” He shrugged.

  “Ding! Ding! Ding! Tell him what he’s won…”

  “All right, Micara. You’ve had your fun.” He locked the gate behind them. “You’ve figured me out, haven’t you?”

  I’m treading on thin ice, Lord. Take control of my tongue. “The more I know, the more questions I have. So I guess that means I’m far from figuring you out.”

  She struggled to keep up with his pace. His leg must be back to normal. He was running away again. “Here’s a question for you. Slow down.”

  Garrett stopped, and Micara almost ran into him. Their gazes locked, and in his stormy one, she saw anger and annoyance and a lot of hurt.

  “What?” He adjusted his cap, another red and white one to show team spirit.

  “Playing college football is only half the story. You have to go to college, too, and study something. What were you planning on studying in college?”

  His eyes grew wide, and then he dropped his gaze to the asphalt parking lot. “Literature and writing.”

  “That’s an interesting choice for a guy.”

  “I came by it out of necessity. My parents had four boys. When I came along, they already had two boys to keep them busy. I came home from the hospital and had to fit into their world. Then thirteen months later, they had another baby. I had a lot of trouble adjusting to being stuck in the middle of a large family. I was the type of person who needed privacy, and there wasn’t enough to go around. I found an escape with books. I could take a book and disappear. Then I started writing my own stories. Well, one story that never ended, about a boy in a big family—go figure—who used books to gain knowledge for solving mysteries. Funny thing, though, every mystery he solved followed right along with the book he was reading in some way. I kept all the stories of his adventures.”

  “Do you still write?” She just couldn’t seem to stop probing.

  “I write a few words here and there.”

  Well, if this wasn’t the most fascinating piece of information she’d found out about him. He’d lost part of his dream, but not all of it. There was hope for Garrett Hearth yet if she could convince him to latch onto his skill.

  “Well, there ya go.” She grinned and spread her hands in an all-wrapped-up gesture. “You still have a dream. Why don’t you go for it?”

  “I doubt my writing is at an acceptable level, and publishing is a hard business to get into. Believe me, I’ve done my research.”

  They reached their vehicles parked near the street.

  Micara shrugged. “Sounds like avoidance to me. Or denial. Or just plain stubbornness.”

  “Call it what you want.” His blue-gray eyes pierced hers with a beam of seriousness.

  “I’m just saying that you should look into it a bit more.” She opened her car door.

  Garrett shrugged and rested his arms on the edge of his truck bed.

  “Catch.” She tossed the football over the hood of her car. He caught it.

  “Thanks.”

  “Call me.” She smiled.

  “I will.”

  11

  Garrett hadn’t seen his brother since the hero’s banquet when Gabriel had made a quick appearance and then left early. Neither Lyra nor Slade had been with him, so Garrett had figured something must have been going on. He’d called and dropped by the house several times, even left messages with Slade, who seemed to be hanging around the house a lot more lately. Wasn’t hard to figure out that Gabriel was avoiding him. Well, he might not answer his cell or his front door, but he couldn’t hide forever.

  “Where’s your dad?” Garrett came up the steps.

  “He’s at the dairy,” Slade reclined in a rocking chair by the front door.

  No more hiding, big brother. “Thanks, Slade.” Garrett turned from the porch.

  The sleepy-eyed teenager nodded. His blond hair was even shaggier than usual, and his clothes were rumpled, as though he’d just rolled out of bed. The way kids dressed these days, it was hard to tell. Slade‘s eyes squinted against the light. Probably hibernated inside the house too long.

  Garrett hopped in his truck and headed to the dairy.

  “What’s going on, Gabe? The postman left some of your mail in my box again. What’s with this packet from a military school in Minnesota?” He’d entered his brother’s office without knocking. The morning was hot, but the air conditioning inside the main dairy building welcomed him. He wished he felt welcomed by his brother.

  “I’d say that’s none of your business.”

  Garrett blinked, caught off guard by the hateful tone. “Whoa, what’s with the attitude? I came here to check on you because you’ve been avoiding me since you showed up alone to the banquet. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I know something is going on with Lyra...and Slade. Your whole life is falling down around you, but it’s not my business? We’re brothers, for crying out loud.”

  Gabriel’s lip curled. “A brother who is a traitor.”

  Garrett blinked. “Wh—“

  “You know what I’m talking about. I saw you talking to Brent Berg at the banquet. The rumor mill’s pulling overtime right now talking about how Brent Berg is working his hometown connections to undercut the other developers. You going to sell to him?”

  “Maybe. What do you care, anyway?” He paused, but his brother made no reply. “I guess I could say the same thing you said to me—it’s none of your business. Right?”

  Still no response.

  Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, that’s right. My decision affects you, so that makes it your business. Well, your decisions affect me, too. You think I like seeing you suffer? And seeing your son suffer because you do? You’re my brother, Gabe, and I love you. But right now, you’re just too self-absorbed to notice. I’m sorry to bother you.” He started to leave.

  Gabriel pushed his large body in front of him and slammed the office door so hard the entire room shook. “Oh, yeah?” he growled. “Talk about self-absorbed. You’re the one who’s frozen in time, holding onto a shattered dream. Your whole existence is focused on what could have been when you need to take a good look around you at everything you have. I thought Micara helped you realize that. When I saw y’all praying together, I thought God had answered my prayer for you. I guess you still need work.”

  Garrett sighed. “Go work on yourself, starting with the son you ignore. I’m done here.” He jerked the door open for the second time and walked away. Gabriel saw a situation one way and reacted accordingly without much empathy for the other party. He wanted to control everyone around him, but only because it benefited him—not out of concern or love. At the same time, he wouldn’t let anyone say anything about his own life. Never let anyone get too close. Not even his own son. What a shame.

  “Garrett, wait!” He heard Gabe yelling as he sat in his car, a task that was much easier without a brace in the way. What now?

  In seconds, Gabriel was at his car with one hand braced against the open window frame. “You think I don’t care?” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and shoved it toward him. “Here.”

  Garrett unfolded a check for a substantial lump sum of money. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a check to buy your land. And it’s what you want, right—to cash out s
o you can find yourself elsewhere?”

  Garrett managed a slow nod. He didn’t know what to say.

  “What is it, little brother? You think all this time, I was against you selling because I wanted to torture you and keep you here? You couldn’t be more wrong. Leave. See if I care. Selfish, am I? Not hardly. It was never about you or me. It was about our parents’ land and the vision they had for our future, all of us and Slade. If I have to buy out all my siblings, I will. I can’t buy out the whole town, but I can protect my part. It’s what our parents wanted.”

  Garrett let his brother chatter on while he stared at the check in disbelief. Why had he never thought of asking Gabriel to buy his land in the first place? That would have solved both their problems from the start. But here he was with a check in hand. All he had to do was sign some papers and cash the check, and he could leave this one-horse town. Problem solved.

  Right?

  ~*~

  Garrett holed up for days, folding and unfolding the check from his brother. He’d even filled out a deposit slip and then ripped it into pieces. Retreating into books, as he’d done as a child, he’d already read several suspense novels in a series. He was still reading when he received a text from Brent Berg asking him to meet him and Jayanne on the property.

  Not long later, they stood near their SUV at the designated place. A few feet away, a folding table held a large sheet of paper. The edges flapped in the wind despite the paperweight rocks on each corner. Jayanne, over-dressed and wearing jewelry so bulky he could see it from a distance, kept glancing back and forth from the paper to the horizon lines, while Brent pointed and made vigorous motions with his hands. He was explaining something. Ideas for Garrett’s property? He’d bet on it.

  “I got your message.” He exited the car and approached the two.

  Brent gave him a look that said he was still infuriated. It’s not as if they’d signed papers, only shook hands to agree to discuss it further. Did Brent think anyone would jump into a deal so quickly? But of course he did. He’d been the same way in high school, short-tempered and impatient. While Garrett had ruled the school with charm, Brent had reigned beside him by instilling fear and following through with his fists when necessary. He never bullied without reason, but he took care of business without a second thought. Most people moved out of Brent’s way and left him alone.

  “What’s with the look? You’re the one who doesn’t know how to pick up a phone.”

  Brent’s brow furrowed, and he eyed Garrett as if he was nothing more than an irritation. Brent’s enthusiasm from the night of the banquet had dissipated. So much for all the warm fuzzies.

  “For your signature.” He thrust a packet of paperwork into Garrett’s gut. “I thought we were going to take care of this on the spot? You made me wait, and I hate waiting.”

  “Same ole Brent.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Garrett fiddled with the brad that held the envelope shut, but he didn’t open it. “It was good to see you again at the banquet. And you, Jayanne. I have to be honest; I thought I never wanted to see either of you again. I’ve been through a lot lately. Maybe that accounts for the change.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jayanne tucked a blonde strand behind her ear, revealing a large diamond earring. It matched the necklace around her neck, the bracelet on her wrist, and the ring on her finger. “We’re the ones who never wanted to see you again.”

  Garrett was taken aback. They harbored ill will against him after what they’d done? The thought made his head spin. He thought he’d turned a corner at the banquet. But now, standing near them, confusion crept up again. He tossed the unopened envelope on the table, amused when Brent’s gaze followed its flight. “Why’s that?” He crossed his arms and stared them down.

  Time to clear the air. What better place to do that than right here in Sweet Home? Wind whispered through the trees and birds cried out from their perches. Not a cloud in the endless blue sky.

  Brent glanced at his watch, a sign of his patience dwindling. “You always thought you were the big man on campus. I was your friend, but you never treated me like an equal.”

  “You were my best friend—”

  “I still remember the look of total shock on your face when Coach Harris announced I had signed with Texas Tech. You should have been happy for me, but you couldn’t believe it. You knew you would play college ball, but you never thought I would. And you called me your best friend?”

  Garrett felt hollow inside. This is what Brent had thought about him all these years? “I’m sorry if I was a jerk in high school, but I was happy for you. I just couldn’t show it because I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.”

  “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

  Garrett let it pass. He rounded the table to get a better view of Brent’s plan for Sweet Home. On that page was the town’s worst nightmare. Might as well rename the town Brentville. Of course, progress wasn’t all unfavorable. It would be convenient to have a few stores and other businesses closer to home. Driving thirty minutes to buy groceries got old real fast. If you forgot something on your list, you couldn’t just make a quick trip to get it. Brent’s plans included a chain grocery store. He had to hand it to the man. He was ambitious. A warm breeze ruffled his hair and brought him back to reality. The afternoon was hot. Texas hadn’t received the memo that it was supposed to be fall. “I still need more time to consider this.”

  “I’ve already been working for months on this project.” The anger left Brent’s voice, replaced with slight panic and worry. He must be realizing he would have to be pleasant again, now that this sale was no longer a done deal.

  “I know.” With the money he could make on this deal, he’d be able to take a sabbatical from teaching to write, so this wasn’t easy for him to say. “There’ve been some new developments in my life, and I have to take them into consideration.”

  Brent slammed his fist on the table. Bright red crept up his neck all the way to his ears. Taking several deep breaths, he turned and perched his hulking frame on the edge. His muscular legs stretched out in front of him. “Nobody wanted to be the first to sell, Garrett. Now that a few have, you can see that progress isn’t all that harmful. It’s a win-win situation for everyone. I was counting on you to set an example for this town.”

  “If I’m going to set an example, I have to be sure it’s the right one. I’ve thought of nothing but myself for eleven years. But recently I’ve realized that I’m not the center of the universe. The whole town is in this together.”

  Of course, he hadn’t been entirely selfish. He genuinely cared about his students and took the time to help them succeed. He spent more hours than any other coach at the school, getting the field and field house ready for games and planning. This might be a small town with a small school, but he took his job seriously. If there was one positive thing about his injury, it was an understanding that opportunities were blessings that should be carefully counted. Many times, he’d helped students take steps to secure a future. Of those, Matthew meant the most. He’d never wanted more for a student than he did for Matthew Bertram. How could a man who cared so much for others be so self-centered at the same time?

  “You got a lot of nerve, Hearth.” Brent ground out the accusation. He knocked the rocks off the blueprints, rolled them up, and pushed them into Jayanne’s hands. “Get in the car.”

  Garrett felt lousy for Jayanne, having to take the brunt of Brent’s temper, but she seemed to handle it well. She retreated without a word.

  “You wanna do this the hard way, Hearth. We’ll do it the hard way.”

  “The hard way?”

  Garrett didn’t like the threatening look in Brent’s eyes. The man was mad. Folding the table, his jerky movements radiated heat.

  “I’ll take it by force. Watch it, Hearth. You better just watch it.” He hoisted the table into the back of the SUV and slammed the door shut. Then he came at Garrett. “I took your girl and your spot on the
football team. I took your football dream. And I’ll take your land, too. Mark my words.” The tremble in the long finger he pointed in Garrett’s face betrayed his rage even more than the venom in his words. He jumped into his SUV and peeled out of the lot, his rear end fishtailing in the soft dirt.

  Brent’s response bordered on hatred. His temper had worsened with years of resentment. His SUV fled down the road, spitting gravel, until it rounded a corner.

  Garrett turned back to his car. Another set of taillights were heading in the opposite direction.

  “Micara?”

  12

  The dirt road blurred in front of her. The trees and houses were a watery mess. She wiped at her tears the best she could without a tissue or napkin, then rubbed her wet hand on her jeans so she could grip the steering wheel without slipping. What was going on? God wanted her to back off and let the residents make their own decisions, but she never expected Garrett to sell. Well, she did initially, but she’d thought she had reached him. How was she supposed to handle their relationship now that she knew the truth? She cranked up the Christian radio station to drown out her thoughts on the trip home.

  “I just can’t believe it.”

  Mom and MeMaw, one on each side, comforted her while she cried. Her grandmother held her hand. Her mother played with her hair.

  “The Lord looks out for every resident in this town, including Garrett.” Her grandmother gave Micara’s hand a squeeze. “He’s fighting for them. Working on their hearts and shaking things up. All you can do is pray.”

  “I’ve been praying.” She sounded like a spoiled child, but she couldn’t help it.

  “You’ve been praying for a certain result, one that matches the desire of your own heart, but that may not be God’s way. When it looks like you and God aren’t in agreement, honey, you need to start asking for strength to roll with the punches.”

  “Yes, and read the Bible. You may think it doesn’t have the answers to modern problems, but it does. There’s no problem the Bible can’t handle.” Her mother tucked her hair behind her ears. “Besides, you need to talk to Garrett in person. Sometimes things aren’t what they seem. Remember in high school when you had to read that short story? The one with the cliffhanger ending. Oh, it was about a princess, a man who stood in judgment, and a tiger. What was it called?”