by Leigh Duncan
Someone had to say the words, and he thought it might as well be him.
Straightening his hat brim, he kept his voice soft. “I think we should cancel our plans for tonight.”
She merely nodded. “Fine by me.”
And with that, his heart twisted, his mind finally catching up with the fact that things between them were over before they’d even gotten started.
“I’ll trade places with one of the other coaches for the ride back,” he offered. He sent a pointed look over the line of Sluggers, who’d won their local championship. After another week of practices, they’d face their first opponent on the road that might lead to the Little League World Series. “Should I find a new team mom to finish out the season?” He let the question dangle.
Courtney followed his gaze. “I won’t let the Sluggers down,” she said, her tone resigned. “But I can handle the details without your help.”
Tonight, after they returned from Orlando, after the boys dispersed to their homes, after he stowed the gear and pulled into his own driveway, then he’d let himself think about a future without Courtney or Josh or Addie in it. For now, such thinking was too dangerous. Too risky. Too apt to bring about a decidedly unmasculine reaction. And so Travis crossed his arms, leaned back in his seat and prayed for the agony of the day to end.
Chapter Thirteen
“She’s all right? No fever? She hasn’t thrown up?” Checking in with the babysitter, Courtney stared over the steering wheel at the ball field where the Sluggers would play in their first postseason tournament. Should she go home? Should she stay? She struggled with the choice the same way she’d second-guessed every decision since she and Travis had called it quits.
“No, Ms. Smith. Addie only picked at her lunch, but we played pat-a-cake and read books until it was time for her nap. She went right to sleep.”
Courtney wavered. Her gut insisted that the fussiness this morning had been a sign of bad things to come.
Or was that just an excuse to avoid Travis?
The thought of seeing him again so soon after their disastrous trip to Twister Stadium sent her heart into free fall. Yes, she should have told him about her oh-so-famous first husband from the very beginning. Or at least the minute she realized the attraction between them went deeper than a passing interest.
So, yeah, she accepted part of the blame. Not that the breakup was all her fault. Far from it. But no matter how many sleepless nights it took to put her heartbreak behind her, she couldn’t take one step further into a relationship that had no future. Which was exactly what she and Travis had—no future.
“I’m five minutes away. Call me if there’s any change,” Courtney said, slamming the lid shut on all thoughts of a certain Little League coach. She stepped from her car at McLarty Park and spotted Josh warming up in the infield with the rest of his team. There was no sign of Travis, and she told herself that was a good thing.
Most likely, it’d take a lifetime before she made it through an hour, much less a day, without yearning for his strong shoulder to lean on. Till that happened, she’d keep moving forward. For today, that meant working in the snack bar, where she could watch the Sluggers play without risking a run-in with their coach.
For a while, a long line of customers kept her busy. So busy she barely noticed that Travis sported several days’ worth of facial hair and looked pale beneath his tan. Or that the Sluggers trailed by three going into the sixth and final inning of what looked like a very short tournament season. Or that the scouts in the stands tracked Josh’s every move like a flock of vultures.
She stopped bagging popcorn when Josh’s name came over the loudspeakers. Her stomach tightened when she spotted her boy on his way to the pitcher’s mound. She homed in on the Sluggers’ dugout, forced herself to make eye contact with the one person she’d spent the game avoiding.
Travis locked in on her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
For what? For counting on my son to save the game? Or for betraying my trust?
She swallowed the unanswered questions when Josh went into his windup.
His first pitch sailed so high over the batter’s head the umpire didn’t even bother to call the ball. Courtney studied her son for any sign of anger, but he simply shrugged off the bad pitch and concentrated on the next one. In quick succession he delivered two strikes before the batter popped up to the second baseman.
It should have been an easy out, but the boy dropped it. Despite the error, Josh managed to hold the other team to one run in the inning. Still, that put the Sluggers down by four when they came to their final at bat.
Courtney surveyed the crowded stands. Slugger fans cheered. Mothers in green jerseys hugged one another and prayed. Agitated fathers walked the fence line, hoping their sons would make miraculous hits to save the game and send the team on to the next level.
But the first three batters struck out. Game over. All hopes of a district or state title dashed.
Disappointment pricked at Courtney’s eyes. Slowly, she began dishing up snow cones while the dispirited Sluggers shook their opponents’ hands at home plate. Afterward the team headed for the shade trees, where she had no doubt Travis would help them cope with defeat the same way he’d never let winning go to their heads.
She had nearly finished with the tray of icy treats by the time snippets of a heated conversation drifted through the snack-bar window. She paused, holding the ice scoop aloft when she heard her name.
“I’m telling you, the Smith woman knows how the game is played. She’ll move to Miami if it gives her son a better chance to turn pro.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” countered the voice that had disturbed her sleep all week.
She froze, straining to follow the exchange above the general hubbub of people placing orders and the sound of cola flowing into cups.
“Look,” said Frank Booker, “there’s not a doubt in my mind this kid’s got what it takes. But he needs the right program. You and I both know a couple of seasons in Little League won’t be enough.”
Behind her, corn popped furiously in the kettle, nearly drowning out Travis’s “Give the boy a chance to grow up, will ya? He needs time, stability. He’s getting that here.”
Frank’s voice grew more insistent. “What he needs is a coach who eats and sleeps baseball. Nothing but baseball. By the way, how are his grades?”
Courtney could practically see Travis scuff a foot through the dirt before he answered.
“Improving. He’ll do even better next year.”
“Down in Miami, they’ll make sure he sails through his classes. He’ll have all the time he needs to concentrate on what’s important.”
How dare they!
Courtney let the scoop fall into the bin. Intending to put a stop to the two men blithely discussing her son’s future, she firmed her shoulders.
“Your plan won’t work.”
Hearing the same firm assurance that had molded an inexperienced boy into a key player on the Sluggers’ team, she slowed her steps.
“Josh doesn’t want to play baseball. He wants to act. As a matter of fact, I hear he’s signing up for drama class next fall.”
Josh?
Courtney felt her eyebrows rise. Much as she loved her son, even she had to admit the boy couldn’t deliver a punch line if his life depended on it. Something Travis knew full well.
She sped out of the snack bar. Rounding the corner, she spied the two men, their arms crossed. She noted the firm set of Travis’s jaw and wondered if Frank had any idea that he’d gone up against a formidable opponent. One who didn’t give up on the things he wanted.
But did he still want her?
“Mr. Booker,” she announced, “we need to talk.”
The scout frowned while the tiniest smile played at the corners of Travis’s lips.
“Ms. Smith, I only—”
“Hold it right there.” Courtney held up a hand the way she’d seen Travis do on the field. “Let me be
clear. One day, when he’s old enough, Josh can decide for himself about his future. Whether he wants to follow in Ryan’s footsteps. Or do something else.”
She cast a glance at Travis. Understanding flickered in his dark eyes. She stilled when he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Are you sure, Courtney? You don’t have to do this. Josh doesn’t have to play baseball. Not ever.”
Frank tried to interrupt. “I only want the best for your son. Why, down in Miami—”
She cut him off. “There’ll be no talk of moving. Of finding Josh another coach.” She sought Travis’s eyes. “I’ve made my choice.”
Looking down at her, Travis’s face filled with the same longing she knew her own held. She drew in a shuddery breath and tore her gaze away. Frank had taken a step back, but the scout still stood close enough to hear her low warning.
“And one more thing. Spread the word, Mr. Booker. The first representative who approaches me—or my son—gets a permanent black mark by their name. Have I made myself clear?”
“Crystal.” Frank pointed, his finger moving back and forth between Travis and her. “Looks to me like you two have other things to discuss. I’ll leave you to it.”
She had to give the old scout credit for recognizing a lost cause and wondered if she was fooling herself. Just because Travis had taken her side, had taken Josh’s side, that didn’t mean there was any hope for them, did it? Her pulse pounded. She had to learn the truth before it was too late.
The shouts and cheers of people in the stands, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn and peanuts—they all faded. Her focus zeroed in on the man who stood in front of her.
“Do we, Travis?”
Travis scrutinized Frank’s departing back. A small voice inside his head said he should walk the man out to his car, smooth the scout’s ruffled feathers. His heart overruled such foolishness. He mopped his chin with his hand, felt the bristle of a beard he hadn’t bothered to shave since he and Courtney had called it quits.
The petite blonde peered up at him. Sorrow and something he was afraid to name shimmered in her blue eyes. The fact that she’d consider the prospect—no matter how remote—of Josh ever playing professional ball, well, that was nothing short of amazing. But it didn’t compare to the idea that they still might have a future together.
He removed his baseball cap, ran a hand through his hair. His fingers came away damp, but then, Courtney had always had that effect on him. His mouth refused to form the question he really wanted to ask: Do you still love me? He reached for a safer topic.
“How are things at the café?”
“Busier than ever,” she said, though the tiny space between her brows deepened. “I was afraid business would drop off when you stopped coming by in the mornings. Guess I underestimated the local gossip mill.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “There’s always a silver lining, no matter how bad things get.”
Travis’s chest tightened. “No one’s pestering you, are they? ’Cause I’ll…”
His voice died. Until he knew how involved he’d be in her future, he wouldn’t make empty promises.
“No one’s said a word, at least not when I’m around.” A wistful smile played over Courtney’s lips. “Manny and the other shop owners have made it quite clear that anyone who has a problem with me will have a problem with all of them, too.”
Travis pictured the spry octogenarian at the newsstand taking on a bully. If he were a betting man, he’d put his money on the eighty-year-old scrapper. “That’s the beauty of small-town life,” he said. “We take care of our own.”
“And where does that leave us?”
Direct, to the point. He liked that about her.
She stared so hard at him he practically felt her scour his face. His heart constricted. He wanted nothing more than to wipe her doubts away and spend the next fifty years with her.
“Courtney, I contacted Frank so long ago it surprised me as much as anybody when he showed up the other day. But I was wrong to call him. I know that now.”
Her soft “He told me” raised more questions than it answered.
“When?” he asked.
She stared into the distance, a hint of heartbreak in her eyes. “At Twister Stadium. After they flashed Josh’s picture, I followed you. I knew I should have told you about Ryan earlier. I tried to that morning, remember?”
He shut his eyes. At the time, he’d suspected there was more to the conversation than Josh’s upset stomach. A knot loosened somewhere in his chest, and his breath came easier than it had in a week.
“Bad timing,” he murmured, thinking of the arrivals who had interrupted their talk.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
He could have let it go at that. Could have chalked up the whole heart-wrenching episode to bad timing, bad information. But he had to clear the air between them. Wanted her to know he’d learned his lesson. He scuffed one foot. “I let you down. And for that I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.”
Her response surprised him.
“You don’t owe me an apology.” Hesitantly, she reached for his arm. “I’m not blind. I know Josh inherited Ryan’s talent, his drive. To tell you the truth, it scares me to death.”
He hooked his thumbs on his pockets to anchor his hands in place.
“I spent a lot of sleepless nights worried about him…until you stepped into our lives.” Her words tumbled out in a rush as she brushed away the tears that tracked down her cheeks. “Let’s face it, you mean the world to Josh and Addie.”
As much as his heart thrilled to what he was hearing, as much as he wanted to be a permanent part of her children’s lives, it wasn’t enough. It never would be. Putting everything he had into the most important pitch of his life, he asked, “So if I were to ask, you’d give us another chance?”
“More than a chance.” Her eyes widened until he thought he could see the very depths of her soul. The emotion he’d glimpsed earlier was back, and this time she put a name to it. “Travis, I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
Her declaration called for a kiss and he was just the man for the job. He stepped forward. Promises filled his mouth, his heart.
Footsteps crunched on the gravel-lined walkway. Courtney’s cell phone pinged. The sights and sounds of a park filled with young baseball players and their families rushed in just as Josh rounded the corner of the snack bar.
“Everybody’s waiting for you, Coach.”
Timing. It was all about the timing.
He turned to Courtney. “I have to give the team a pep talk.”
She waved her cell phone. “The babysitter.”
“Ask her if she’s free to watch Addie and Josh tonight. I’d like to take you out to dinner. Maybe a little dancing.”
“You looked real good out there today, slugger.” Whistling, Travis settled a hand on Josh’s shoulder a few minutes later.
“We lost, Coach. I lost the game.”
Travis shook his head. “It takes nine men to win or lose, son.” He liked the way that last word felt on his tongue and gave the boy a squeeze. “Sometimes you just have to wait for your chance to start over. That’s what we’ll do next year.”
It was what he and Courtney would do. Beginning tonight.
He judged the distance to the trees where the rest of the team waited. Deciding there was time, he leaned a little lower.
“There is something I want to talk to you about. Man-to-man stuff.”
Josh straightened, and if Travis didn’t know better, he’d swear the boy’s chest puffed out a bit. He fought to keep a smile out of his voice.
“I…um…I like your mom. A lot,” he admitted.
“Yeah, I got that.” Josh treated him to a world-class eye roll. His footsteps slowed to a halt. “She’s been crying a lot. She hardly ever cries. Did you have a fight or something?”
Travis hung his head. A long breath seeped through his lips. “We did. But we made up.”
“So you’re gonna be friends again?”
He wasn’t about to tempt fate by asking a ten-year-old for his mother’s hand.
“Well,” he said, keeping things simple, “I’d like us to be more than that. I want to spend a lot more time with her. And with you and Addie. Would you be okay with that?”
One of the longest minutes in Travis’s life passed while Josh rubbed his chin and thought the matter over.
“Yeah, but…” Uncertainty clouded his young voice. “I already had a dad.”
“And no one could replace him, Josh. I’d never try. But I’d like to be a part of your life, yours and your sister’s. If your mom agrees.”
His words matching his pace, Josh slowly put his feet in motion. “Addie’s too little to remember him.”
Travis glimpsed the man the boy would become when Josh gave a solemn nod.
“I think she needs a dad,” he said at last.
Damned tears. They clogged his throat, forcing him to clear it.
“What about you? You need someone to stand behind you no matter what?”
“As long as you make Mom happy again, I’m good.”
Someone who didn’t know him might mistake Josh’s slightly lifted shoulder for an evasive shrug. Travis caught the sheen of moisture in the boy’s eyes and knew it was more than that.
“You sure are,” he agreed, clapping Josh on the back.
As for making Courtney happy, he’d do his very best.
Later he barely recalled the talk he gave the team. Oh, he knew he’d spoken with each boy, praised this one’s hitting and that one’s fielding. Told ’em to practice hard so they’d be ready for next year.
But he couldn’t remember a word he’d said.
No grand slam, no shutout, no triple play had ever felt as good as hearing Courtney say she loved him as much as he loved her. Now that he knew how she felt, he didn’t want to wait. Not to make her his. Not to let the world know he was hers.
Driving home, he dreamed of the life they’d build together. The house they’d buy. The yard with the white picket fence. The two kids they’d raise as a team. The others they might one day add. In all the ways that counted, he’d made it to the major leagues after all.
