by Jenny Rabe
Finally, he said something. “Better get to my baseball practice.”
He gestured to the bottom of the hill where a team of players gathered at the pitcher’s mound. Now that he’d mentioned it, she studied the rest of him. Long, white pants with a royal blue hat pinned to his side, a matching blue shirt with white pinstripes, and a pair of cleats in his hands. She needed to be more observant next time instead of face-watching so much.
“Sure. Yeah, go practice. Nice to meet you, Brian.”
He hesitated a few more seconds. Before he misunderstood her attention for attraction, she turned around and ran in the direction of her house.
I’ll be seeing you real soon.
If she hurried, she could grab her sketchbook, binoculars, and a hat, and be back to her inspiration in no time.
Chapter Two
Brian
Brian Davidson grabbed for his gum package and stuck a wad into his mouth. Since the age of eight, he’d been playing baseball. Since the age of eight and a half, he’d found chewing gum ensured he’d hit the ball. So far, his luck hadn’t failed.
He winced as he stared down at the bright purple, chalky mess. Grape never was his favorite flavor. Instead of small individually wrapped pieces, he ordered the tiny bits of gum that came in a long horizontal package. Still, it was gum, and he didn’t want to break his record. Plus, the flavor only stayed around for one inning most of the time, and he’d empty this package in no time.
Gum-chewing wasn’t his only superstitious belief. It seemed every month he added a new one. When one of his beliefs let him down, he’d give it up and find another lucky charm. But gum chewing was always constant.
He was first to bat, as always. Even though he was new to the team and new to the town, the locals had accepted him like one of their own. Brian liked them too, but getting close with the guys wasn’t a good idea. That had been his downfall in the last place he’d lived.
Brian popped a bubble and forced himself to concentrate. No time to think about that now. He grabbed a bat and swung it a few times in the air, practicing the angle of his hit. He swung at an invisible fly ball, sending it into left field.
Rob stood on the pitcher’s mound, smiling like a goon. He was a few inches taller than Brian and a whole lot of inches wider. Rob was built like a Mack truck and had the reputation of steaming over anyone who got in his way in a courtroom setting.
“I’m gonna strike you out today.” Rob talked around a wad of purple gum that looked suspiciously like Brian’s.
Brian laughed and dug his foot at the bases three times, kicking up red dirt like a bull. “Did you steal my gum, hoping you’d get lucky?”
Rob grinned even wider, if that was possible, the grape gum spreading across his teeth. “Needed some luck if I was gonna help you kick that chewing habit.”
Brian swung the bat toward Rob’s face. “Well, you can sure try.” Rob was the closest thing Brian had to a friend. Most of that had to do with Rob discovering his secret.
It was hard to hide the fact you were a billionaire for long and even harder to hide newspaper articles targeted at defaming someone’s name. Rob had discovered both, and after a day of digging had approached him after ball practice. Now that Rob knew, Brian felt some relief that he could talk to one person about it. Still, one person knowing was enough.
Rob pitched the ball, and Brian swung and missed.
“Strike one,” the annoying umpire shouted. The ump’s name was Nate, and every time Brian saw him squatting on his hind legs, he felt tempted to push the guy over.
Rob smiled and blew a purple bubble. “Today’s the day. I feel it in my bones.”
Brian rolled his eyes and stepped back to practice a swing. His friend was as lucky as the backside of a penny.
“Hey, I saw you talking to some girl up on the hill.”
His friend noticed too much. Brian stepped back up to the plate and waited. “Yeah, so?”
Rob laughed out loud, slapping his leg. “You don’t have a new girlfriend, do ya?” Rob threw the next ball, and Brian swung the bat so hard it flew out of his hands.
“Strike two,” Nate yelled. Brian turned to see Nate sneering at him. Yep, he definitely wanted to deck the guy.
Brian gritted his teeth and turned back to Rob. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend, and you know why.”
Rob caught the ball from the catcher and spit on the ground. “This gum is not good.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe next time steal from someone who has a better flavor.”
Rob pointed behind Brian. “Well, that girl over there seems pretty interested. She hasn’t looked away from you since you stepped up to bat.”
Right as Brian turned to look behind him, he saw Rob’s last ball coming toward him. He bit down on the purple wad inside his mouth and stretched the bat out just enough.
Whack!
The metal ping of contact. He watched the ball fly toward the infield and hit the grass with a thud. Spitting his gum into his hand, he held onto it as he ran the bases—also a tradition. As he came around home plate, he saw who Rob had been talking about. The woman was the only person sitting in the stands. At least he thought it was a woman. The person was dressed in a large overcoat and a military cap, though it was way too big for her. Who wore that getup in the middle of summer?
He couldn’t see her face well, but she had a notebook and pencil in her hand. Right when they made eye-contact, she looked down and scribbled away. Brian’s heart fell. Not again. Not another one.
He barely had time to tap his foot on the home plate before he ran for the dugout.
Everything was okay. She wasn’t here for him. Maybe if he kept telling himself this, he’d believe it.
“Time to switch,” Coach Smalt yelled.
Brian liked his coach well enough. Coach Smalt was an older man with white tufts of hair that stuck out of his hat on both sides. He never smiled, and he answered every question with a grunt. But he knew his baseball. If Brian would’ve found him earlier, he might’ve made it as a professional player, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the pressures and publicity involved with being a pro now that he’d had a taste with his latest media fiasco.
Rob followed him into the dugout and sat down. He looked down at Brian’s glob of gum in his hand. “You’re sick, man.”
Brian smiled as he lowered his hand to the dirt and rolled the gum around in it until it was no longer purple.
Rob passed him the small wire-mesh wastebasket.
After chucking the wad in with a satisfying thump, Brian smiled. Some things never changed.
Brian tapped the bill of his friend’s hat with his clean hand. “Don’t eat my gum anymore.”
Rob huffed. “Like it did me any good.”
Brian smiled as his friend rolled his gum in the dirt and then chucked it in the trash just as he had.
“How bout’ we go out tonight after practice?”
Brian reached for his mitt. “Aren’t you due in court tomorrow? It’ll be late before we get back, and you know it.”
Rob picked up Brian’s bat, the only bat Brian ever used. “Yeah, you’re right. Let me hit this next ball, and then I’ll take you out.”
Shaking his head, Brian snatched his bat away. “Nice try. Go get your own.” He waited until his friend had a new bat in hand, then headed toward the coach to get his assignment.
Coach Smalt waved him over. “Outfield.”
Brian kicked at the dirt. “Sir, I was hoping you’d let me try first base again. You know, so I can improve.”
Smalt grunted, and Brian knew the conversation was over. Next time. In his spare time tomorrow, he and Rob would need to practice catching from first base. One day, he was going to fix his catching record too.
He spit on his glove for the first time. Rob laughed from home base. “Trying something new in hopes you’ll catch something?”
“I catch plenty. Have you called Carrie yet?”
Rob grunted. “No, she doesn’t want me. I met ano
ther girl last week.”
Brian raised his eyebrows. “Not at the bar, right?”
“What’s wrong with the bar? It’s the best place to socialize when you’re older.”
He punched his glove a few times. Finding girls at a bar had never worked for either one of them. “Did you ask her out yet?”
Rob shrugged and headed away from him, twirling his bat. “I’ll get to it. How about you focus on your dating, and I’ll focus on mine.”
Brian swiped at his nose, wanting to wipe the thought of any women out of his head. “Let’s see if you can even hit one as far out as I’ll go.” He had a good laugh when that shut his friend right up. Rob was as good at batting as Brian was at catching.
Before Brian went to the furthermost part of the field, he looked behind him. The girl who’d been staring at him moments before was gone.
It had all been in his head. There was no girl trying to win his heart only to rip it to shreds across inky messes on national headlines. She was there to watch baseball and nothing else.
Nothing to worry about.
After he found his place on the field, he glanced back to the stands as if it was a habit now, and his lungs seemed to deflate.
There she was. With binoculars. Even from this distance, he saw her gaze was directly on him.
Chapter Three
Cambria
Cambria stilled. He couldn’t be looking at me, could he? She turned her head subtly to the left and right, but both sides of the bleachers were empty. She pulled her hat lower, hiding her face even more, looked down at her drawing again, and closed her eyes. Please look away.
Her heart thrummed inside her like a drum, her body heat magnified with embarrassment. On a whim, she had grabbed her husband’s wide jacket and hat to hide her figure, and now she was melting in the heat. She needed to hide before he thought she was stalking him. Well, she kind of was.
She scrambled down on the step in between the bleachers where she’d be hidden by the top part of the bench. She felt silly sitting so low, but it was shadier and she still had a great view of him.
This had been easier when he was facing away from her. She smiled as she remembered the back of him, hitting the ball with a loud crack. Everything about him was perfect. His athletic stance, his confident gait, even his running technique was perfect.
When he had noticed her at home plate, she had almost fled. She decided against leaving when he entered the dugout and sat at the end, by the chain link fence. It was the perfect angle of his side profile and she was rewarded with great sketches of his cheekbones. His mouth and eyes were the features she remembered the most. Occasionally, she looked up, but she sketched quickly and with purpose once she had an eyeful.
Finally, when he focused on catching again, she slipped back to her seat on the top bench and pulled out her binoculars. It was a perfect view of him. She giggled to herself when she saw purple gum rolling around his mouth. Typical baseball player. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a few pictures of him, glad she had invested in a phone with a good camera. They weren’t perfect pictures, but they gave her enough to go on.
By the time he saw her watching from the outfield again, she was done with her quick and dirty profile. She’d gotten what she’d come for, and now it was time to paint.
She almost skipped off the bleachers. Her mind buzzed with ideas. She could finally fill in some of the hollow faces of her portraits. One face would break weeks of monotony. Maybe that whole saying, “the face that launched a thousand ships” was no joke.
“Here’s the schedule for next week’s practice,” a man’s gruff voice called out to the team. “Pass it around and don’t be late.”
Cambria spun on the spot at the coach’s announcement. If she could get a look at that schedule, she could see Brian again. One sketch was enough for today, but not for forever.
She got close enough to the group that a few of the players looked up, but the coach thankfully called the team to a huddle in the middle of the field. The players ran out of the little dugout in a flurry, leaving behind what she needed.
She squatted next to the chain-link fence and pulled out her phone. Then she got as close as she dared to one of the schedules that had fallen on the floor. It was a perfect image of all of Brian’s practices and games. Score. She snapped a picture of it, then headed back up the hill to the running loop.
Before she was too far away, she searched for Brian in the outfield again. All but a few players had been sent to the outfield to catch fly balls while the rest of the players smacked balls out for them to catch. A ball flew out Brian’s way, and he barely missed it. If only he practiced more on his perception, he’d be a great catcher too.
Cambria scampered up the hill, her legs feeling the burn after her run. But instead of feeling tired, she felt rejuvenated and ready to paint.
Chapter Four
Brian
After a grocery run the next morning, Brian laid the food bags on the table. “May, I’m back.”
May was his housekeeper, confidante, and friend. She had taken care of his dad in his final days, and now claimed it was her duty to take care of Brian. Her friendship meant the world to him.
She came around the corner and fisted her hands on her hips. Her hair was in a high bun, and she wore a collared shirt and a pair of old khakis capris. No one would ever guess she worked for a wealthy business owner.
“I told you. You gotta stop doing my job. Just make me out a list or something. I’m pretty sure your job is hopping enough to keep you busy.”
Brian grinned at her. Even though she was as old as his dad would have been, she was spunky and told off whoever she had to if they stepped on her toes. But she was right that he had plenty to do. His managers were getting restless with the lack of communication.
“Fine,” he said. “At least I didn’t put away the groceries this time.”
She grunted her response and went to work organizing the kitchen.
After finding his laptop, he sat in his favorite chair, a stiffer one compared to the plushy options that surrounded him in the living room. He set his clock for an hour, hoping that would be enough time to satisfy the people he had turned his business over to while he took a break from being in the spotlight.
Rebranding his business’s name hadn’t done enough. In weeks, Brian’s stock in the new company had tripled in size and taken steps in the same direction it had before. Success. His bank account numbers rolled so high in the positives, Brian wasn’t sure what he’d do with all the money.
The three million he won from the hospital lawsuit was a drop in the bucket, even after making a large donation to the cancer wing his dad had died in. It wasn’t the staff’s fault the administration was corrupt.
Moving to Harker Heights had been the best decision he’d made all year. He floundered for a bit, not leaving the house for fear of being found, but eventually he’d branched out to find something to fill his time. Finding a baseball team to play on had given him purpose again. It hadn’t motivated him in every area, but at least he wasn’t TV shows for hours.
After his hour was up, the emails were mostly caught up on and new projects were created and assigned. He’d have to start working an hour a day with how fast his team was keeping up.
His golden retriever, Sunny, barked at him. Brian spun around, reaching for the dog’s collar. “There you are. You must have been sleeping in one of your hideouts again. Want to go for a walk, buddy?”
The dog barked again.
“Hmmm . . . where should we go?”
Brian thought of Cambria. Meeting her at the baseball park had been a pleasant surprise. Maybe if he hung around a while, he’d eventually see her again. And if he didn’t, he’d get in a great run before everyone showed up. He decided to take a chance.
He grabbed his truck keys and Sunny’s leash. “Let’s go boy.”
He regretted committing to his plan once the heat outside hit him like a slug on salt. He glanced down at Sunny. “Yo
u better know how much I love you if I’m willing to run out here in this humidity. I feel like I’m melting.”
The dog shook his collar, as if in agreement. He grabbed a water dish and a bottle of water for their return to the truck.
His neighborhood was a ten-minute drive to the fields. He parked near a batting cage, just in case he had energy to hit some balls after practice.
The first ten minutes were fine, sweaty and hot, but shaded under the massive scrub oak trees. When he came out to the non-shaded part, he slowed his pace, panting as hard as Sunny. He eventually slowed to a walk, squirting some water in his mouth and then into his dog’s. He hadn’t seen any sign of Cambria or anyone else for that matter. No one would be stupid enough to be outside when it was so miserable. No one but him.
He thought of turning around, returning to the shade and eventually to his truck, when someone turned the corner, walking toward him. It was Cambria. Her hair was pinned up with a pencil.
He shook his head. She may be cute, but the last thing he needed was another girlfriend. The last one had wrecked his personal life. Brian was sure any girl would do the same once they knew his story.
He sped up his pace while her eyes were averted, but slowed down when they flickered with recognition.
“Hey, you’re Brian, right?” She stopped and moved far to the right to allow him enough space.
He smirked as he remembered their first collision. “Yes. Nice seeing you again.”
“Is this your dog?” she asked.
Brian looked down at Sunny. He had collapsed on the ground next to him, panting hard. “Yep, though today was a bad idea for a walk. I feel like we’ve been in the shower the last half hour.”
She laughed and nodded. “Agreed, but it sure beats the dry heat of Arizona.”
Brian lifted his eyebrows. So she wasn’t from around here. “How long have you been in Harker Heights?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He couldn’t return the answer if she asked the same question so why had he bothered?
