by Donna Alward
The ball field was behind the high school, northwest of the waterfront. Cars already filled the school lot, and when they reached the bleachers the game was under way. The scoreboard read 2–0 for the high school team in the second inning, and the alumni were up at bat.
Sarah’s daughter, Susan, ran up to greet them. “Mom says to give you these.” Susan handed over three ball caps, brown ones that said: Old Dogs. “She said you have to cheer for the old guys.”
Charlie laughed. “Your uncles aren’t exactly old.”
Susan shrugged. “They’re no spring chickens.”
Lizzie burst out laughing as Susan ran off again. “I like that kid,” she said, taking the hat and pulling her ponytail through the hole at the back as she placed it on her head. “What are they calling the high school team?”
Charlie pointed at a teenager standing nearby, watching through the fence. His ball cap was red and said: Young Pups on it. Lizzie grinned. “Cute,” she said, chuckling a little.
They made their way into the stands, Charlie and Lizzie picking seats while Dave bought them sodas from someone with a big cooler. Lizzie had just popped the top on a root beer when one of the “old-timers” struck out, causing lots of good-natured trash talk to erupt on both benches. “That’s Josh’s cousin Bryce.” Charlie nodded toward the burly player making his way back to the dugout. “He’s the police chief. Boy, he’s going to have a hard time living that one down.”
The next batter was Rick Sullivan, who Charlie pointed out was Josh’s brother-in-law and had a prosthetic hand. Lizzie watched curiously as Rick gripped the bat, his prosthetic at the bottom, his other hand above it. The first pitch came in slow, and Lizzie saw Rick scowl as he stepped out of the batter’s box, refusing to even swing. “Come on, Danny,” he groused. “No wimping out just because I’m a cripple. Might as well bring out that fastball like you do for everyone else on the second pitch.”
She swore the kid, Danny, blushed on the mound. Rick stepped back inside the box, dug in his front toe, and waited.
Sure enough, the next pitch came zooming in, a perfect fastball. And Rick swung, connecting with a sharp crack as the ball went just over the shortstop’s head and dropped in front of the left fielder, giving him a single.
The pitcher kicked his foot in the dirt and hoots and howls came from the other bench. “He had your number, son!” More laughs and high fives, and Rick had a ridiculous grin on his face as he stood next to the first-base bag.
Josh was up next. Lizzie couldn’t deny that her pulse gave a little jump as he strode out from the on-deck circle and swung his bat a few times. Hot damn, he looked good in ball pants. The gray material hugged his butt perfectly, making her mouth go dry, and the shirt emphasized his lean waist and broad shoulders. He sent the pitcher a crooked grin, tapped his batting helmet with his knuckles, and put one foot in the box while the other one remained out, taking his time. “Now Danny,” he called, “I don’t need that fastball. I kind of like the inside curve, if you don’t mind!”
Shouts erupted from both benches. “Don’t listen to him, Dan!” mingled with laughs, and everyone on the benches had smiles on their faces.
Lizzie remembered that Josh’s right hand still had stitches in, but he didn’t seem to be favoring it any. His batting gloves would give him some extra padding, she supposed. And she admired his perfect form as he finally put his back foot in the box, raised his left elbow, and got ready for the pitch.
Josh’s face had lost all traces of teasing and was perfectly focused as Danny wound up for the pitch. He’d known exactly what he was doing, she realized, as Danny didn’t throw the curve but instead hit him with another fastball, straight down the middle. It was just what Josh had wanted, wasn’t it? Because he took a mighty swing and she watched as the bat came around, his hips swiveled, and torso and shoulders rotated in perfect form as he followed through. The ball went up, up, and long, heading for the fence. The fielders ran back, but it was too late. The ball sailed over the fence, bringing in two runs and tying up the game.
The team lined up for high fives as Josh rounded home, and the high school team’s faces showed a new determination. Dave laughed. “I think those Young Pups thought they’d walk away with it, but they’ve got some competition. I heard Josh, Rick, and Tom were all on the State champion team back in the day.”
Local star, hometown hero, Jewell Cove’s favorite son. Lizzie scowled a little. She was sorry about his wife, of course, but gosh, it certainly seemed like Josh Collins had had an all-American dream upbringing. He was damn near Mr. Perfect.
At the seventh-inning stretch, Lizzie made a point of reapplying sunscreen while Dave went down to the bench and Charlie sipped on ice water to keep cool. “Are you okay?” Lizzie asked her. “It’s a lot of sun. We don’t want you getting sunstroke.”
“I’m okay. The breeze has come up a bit and it’s helping.”
“Say the word and we can go somewhere cooler. With air-conditioning.”
Charlie laughed. “And miss this? Not a chance.” Charlie lifted her hand and sent a wave to a woman behind the visitors’ bench.
“Wow, who’s that?”
Charlie looked over at her. “Oh. That’s Josh’s other sister, Jess Sullivan. She was doing the face painting this morning. You haven’t met, have you?”
“She’s stunning. Holy cow.” Very pregnant, Jess Sullivan was still one of the most gorgeous women Lizzie had ever seen.
“I know, right? She’s married to Rick. The guy with the prosthetic. She owns Treasures, the purple store on Lilac Lane. Rick runs it with her and paints, too. On glass.”
“The stuff we saw at the gallery that day?”
Charlie nodded. “That’s his. Oh good, Jess is coming over. I’ll introduce you.”
It shouldn’t have made her nervous to meet Josh’s sister, but it did. It was funny. Everywhere she went, everyone she met … she felt like she had to pass some sort of test. It was the weirdest thing. She didn’t usually have a confidence issue.
But then again, that was all before she’d lost her dad, lost her edge, and screwed up.
“Jess, hi! This is my best friend in the whole world, Lizzie Howard. Liz, this is Josh’s sister Jess.”
Jess smiled warmly. “Good to finally meet you. Josh said you stitched up his finger the other night.” She rested her hand on the fullness of her belly.
“He took on a utility knife and the knife won, I’m afraid.” Lizzie smiled. Jess had a warm, easy way about her that Lizzie liked. “When are you due?”
Jess sighed. “Another month. Second trimester was a breeze. I’m heading into the ‘let’s get this show on the road’ stage now.”
Lizzie laughed. “You haven’t dropped yet, so it’ll be a while.”
Jess winced. “That’s what Charlie told me just before she went on her maternity leave. My mom calls every day, too, to ask how I’m feeling.”
“Josh is really going to be surrounded by babies in a few months, isn’t he?”
“My cousin has a seven-month-old, too. Lots of babies these days.”
Jess took a moment to cheer a play and then turned back to Lizzie. “You’re coming over later, right? Rick’s grilling ribs and Sarah’s made enough potato salad to feed both teams and there’s all sorts of food.”
“I … I’m not sure.”
Charlie elbowed her. “She’s coming,” Charlie informed Jess. “Don’t mind her. She’s being all new and stuff.”
Jess laughed. “Like you were, Charlie? You didn’t come out of your shell until Dave dragged you out of it.” Jess looked at Lizzie. “Charlie was so quiet for her first few months here. But we’ve gotten to know her a lot better since Christmas. She even took a knitting class I ran in March.”
“I figure I’ll finish that bunting bag by the time I need it this winter,” Charlie joked.
Babies and knitting … Lizzie really did feel out of place. But now that she’d had an official invitation, it would be rude to refuse. “No need to d
rag me anywhere,” Lizzie informed them both. “I’ll go, for a while, anyway.” She offered a smile. “Girl’s gotta eat.”
The Old Dogs took the field again and Lizzie watched as Josh took to the pitcher’s mound. The score was close, with the Young Pups ahead by a single run. The game was getting serious now, with less trash talk and more honest-to-goodness cheering. Josh had the count at two-and-two when the young man at bat cracked one straight down the third-base line.
The third baseman caught it easily and sent it humming to first. Lizzie recognized her landlord, Tom, playing first and smiled as the big man stepped forward to catch the ball, anticipating that the throw was slightly short. But he stepped right on the baseline just as the runner came barreling toward the bag, his foot extended.
Tom held his spot, his glove hand extended, focused entirely on the ball.
The collision knocked him back a step, but he was a big man, well over six feet and sturdy as an ox. The kid didn’t stand a chance, particularly when his knee hit Tom’s thigh.
The kid went down like a rock, while the crowd fell silent.
Josh dropped his glove and went straight to first base while teammates on both sides crowded around. Lizzie and Charlie both stood, and then Lizzie raised her eyebrow. “You stay. I’ll go.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yep.” Lizzie hopped down off the bleachers and made her way to the field.
“Excuse me,” she ordered, pushing her way through players to where Josh knelt next to the runner. She tapped Josh on the shoulder just as he was pushing up the player’s pant leg to examine the knee. “What’s up, Doc?”
It was easy to see that the boy was in a lot of pain. The moment Josh eased up the fabric past the knee, they both knew what had happened. The kneecap was dislocated, shifted to the outside of the leg. “Ouch,” she said lightly, looking down at the player. “Hey, sparky,” she said, kneeling down. “Take a deep breath for me and relax.”
He did and opened his eyes to look up at her. “You a doc?” he asked. “Nothin’ against Josh and all, but it’s kind of humiliating to have the enemy fix me up, you know?”
“You guys and your pride,” she responded, giving a little laugh. “Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looked at Josh and nodded, and he nodded back. “Don’t call me ‘ma’am,’ it makes me feel old, and I just turned thirty last month. And don’t say thirty is old.”
“No, ma’am. I hurt it bad, didn’t I?”
“It could be worse. You dislocated your patella, but that’s easily fixed. Let’s see if we can get your leg straight, first.”
He shouted as they manipulated his leg, and Lizzie tried not to wince. “Hey, guys? Can someone go get an ice pack or two?” There were too many people around, hovering. Still, this wasn’t the first time she’d seen one of these. When she was working in the emergency room, all sorts of sports injuries came through the door. This was pretty straightforward.
She looked back at Josh, and once again he nodded. Now was the time to trust him. “You wanna switch spots?” she asked quietly.
“I got this,” he answered. For a moment her ego flared to life, but she reminded herself that Josh had been a doctor in a war zone. He could handle an itty-bitty kneecap.
“So, what’s your name?” she asked. “Might as well make some small talk while we wait for that ice.”
“Shawn.”
“Okay, Shawn. It kinda hurts running into a big bruiser, doesn’t it?”
“Tom’s like a friggin’ tree.”
She laughed. “Did you run right into his leg or what?”
“I could see him there. At the last minute, I tried to pivot out of the way—”
Ah, that was it. He’d planted and twisted and pop! She put her fingers behind her back and started counting down from three.
“So you planted your foot?”
“Yeah, but I just couldn’t get around him and—” He yelled as Josh deftly put the kneecap back in place. “Holy shit!”
Lizzie laughed and patted Shawn’s hand. His face had gone white for a few seconds, but the color was coming back now. “You’re still going to have to have it checked out, and no weight on it. We’re going to wrap some ice around it and carry you off the field. But everything’s back where it’s supposed it be. Say ‘thank you, Dr. Collins.’”
“Yuh, thanks,” he mumbled, but then turned his gaze back on her. “You’re a nice distraction—”
“Dr. Howard. And thank you. Now stop flirting. I’m old, remember?”
He blushed and she laughed, then stood up. She’d worn cutoff denim shorts and a blue T-shirt today and the rusty-brown dirt of the field stuck to her knees. She brushed it off as Josh wrapped the ice pack around the leg and he and a couple of the guys carried Shawn off the field as the players and spectators clapped.
She didn’t get a chance to speak to Josh again until after the game was over. The Pups won, but only by a run, and the Old Dogs were looking a little less spry than the kids, who were already talking about heading back to a teammate’s house for a barbecue and then picking up girls for the fireworks later in the evening. The older guys were ready for cold beers and some downtime.
Charlie was starting to really feel the heat and Dave had taken her back to the car in the middle of the ninth so she could sit in some air-conditioning. Lizzie was making sure everything was in her tote bag when Josh, his gray pants streaked with brown from a slide into second, made his way over to her.
God, he looked good. His tanned skin contrasted with his dirty-blond hair, which curled out from beneath his cap just a little bit. Then there were his eyes. It seemed like all the Collins kids had inherited the same clear, blue eyes.
“Hey, good teamwork out there, huh?” he asked.
“It was okay. You still lost.” She kept her tone nonchalant, deliberately misunderstanding his meaning.
He laughed. “I meant you and me.”
“I know you did.” She couldn’t help but smile now. “That probably really hurt. Hitting Tom had to feel like hitting a brick wall.”
“He’s a big lad.”
She chuckled. “When I signed the lease on the cottage, I was like, holy cow, who is this lumberjack dude?”
Josh really laughed now. “Hold up. Dr. Howard, did you just say ‘dude’?”
“So?”
“So, I didn’t know such vernacular was in your vocabulary. It’s not … um…”
She shouldered her tote. “Not, um, what?”
“Never mind.”
She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say. “Are you saying I have a stick up my ass, Collins?”
He looked shocked that she’d suggested it. “Of course not! Just that you’re very … uh…”
She knew she’d been short with him at times. Stupid truth was that when she felt awkward she reverted to her professional self. Ian had told her once that she sometimes seemed cold. She wasn’t, not really. She was just … unsure. Of course she’d never admit that to Josh. She didn’t like people knowing about her weaknesses. Especially capable, hunky people she had to see every day.
“Good thing you’re a doctor,” she teased. “Your vocab sucks.”
“I was going to say ‘professional,’” he finished.
“‘Uptight.’”
“Maybe.” She was playing with him a bit, and what was more, she was enjoying it. She let him off the hook. “Hey, I’m new, still figuring out the dynamic and stuff. Cut me some slack.”
He grinned at her. “You surprised me today. You seemed more easygoing than usual.”
“I take my work seriously. But after hours I like to be more chill. It’s how I balance things out. My day is organized and efficient. My outside-of-work life is more spontaneous. The game was fun. I do know how to have fun once in a while. I can tell you stories that’ll curl your hair.”
His eyebrows went up. “Really? Like what?”
She tilted her head to the side. �
�Well, I think one of my favorites was cliff diving in Hawaii.”
He blinked. “You did that?”
“Sure I did. And walked volcanoes and learned to surf. I didn’t do so well with the surfing. Hurt my pride a fair bit.”
“Excuse me, but that does not seem like the Dr. Howard who shows up at my clinic pressed and dressed for a day of diagnoses.”
She hesitated for a minute. “You know, I think you aren’t all that you seem, either.”
He looked over at her. “Me?”
“I think the amiable guy who goes casual in faded jeans and T-shirts might be a bit of a front. You, Dr. Collins, are not as laid-back as you appear. Am I on the right track?”
That he didn’t look at her this time said a lot; at least she thought it did.
“I’m no workaholic.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t about to press the issue. And he had taken a day off and left her at the clinic on her own earlier in the week. The day he’d cut himself on the utility knife. Maybe he wasn’t a workaholic, but there was an intensity about him, a restlessness. Maybe small-town medicine wasn’t enough for him, either. It was pretty slow compared to a city emergency room.
Damn, she was all curious now. And it really wasn’t any of her business.
“I’d better check on Charlie. The heat really seems to get to her these days.”
“You’re coming to Jess and Rick’s?”
“Apparently.” They paused at the edge of the parking lot. She realized Josh’s old truck was only a few vehicles away, dusty and with rust patches along the bottoms of the doors. “Josh, I have to ask. Why the old truck? You’re a doctor. You could afford something so much nicer.”
His face hardened and he met her gaze. She wished she could tell what he was thinking, but she realized he knew how to do this thing where he could look right into the person he was talking to but not reveal anything of himself, like a two-way mirror. She wondered if he’d learned to shutter away personal feelings as a doctor or if he’d mastered the art of it when he’d been in the Army. Either way, it was very effective.
