by Duncan Leigh
But Courtney only shook her head. “It’s spring. The winter residents that are the mainstay of every restaurant and bar in the county—they’re packing up and heading north. From what the other shop owners tell me, Cocoa Village is a ghost town through most of the summer. I’m not sure I can keep going till next fall.”
“What would you do instead?” With a start, he realized how little he knew about her background.
She shrugged. “I’d hate to uproot the kids again, especially Josh. He’s really turning a corner. But none of my options are all that great.” She tapped a pencil against the edge of the desk. “We could go to my dad’s in Arizona, I guess. Until I get back on my feet again.”
At the thought of not stopping by Coffee on Brevard for his morning fix of Courtney and caffeine, a knifelike pain sliced through Travis’s gut. He clutched the doorjamb, steadying himself, while reality sank a little deeper. Somewhere along the way, he’d completely fallen for the young widow and her family. So much so that before he’d walked through her door, he’d considered settling down just to be with them.
But they might move away? Though he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer, he asked when she’d have to decide.
Her pencil picked up the tempo. “I can make it through the end of the school year. Not much longer.”
Travis mopped his face. Ed, the owner of the Italian restaurant where the team usually celebrated, had decided to throw down the dough and retire. Which meant the Sluggers needed a new place for their after-game parties. He tilted his head to the side.
“Are there rules about what you can or can’t serve?” He pointed toward the empty tables.
Courtney’s eyebrows hiked. “I don’t have a liquor license, if that’s what you mean.”
He let his words slow. “You know the place where we ate Saturday? It sold. The new owners are turning it into a tapas bar.”
“Yeah?” Courtney’s face filled with questions.
“What if, after Ed’s changes hands, you hosted the team’s next party? I could—I don’t know—pick up pizzas somewhere. Or have them delivered,” he said, making up a plan as he went along. “The parents could do the same thing. You could supply the drinks. Maybe some desserts. I know you wouldn’t make any money. Or at least not much. But, well, it might lead to something.”
His shoulders slumped. It wasn’t the brightest idea he’d ever had. But he had to face it—desperate times called for desperate measures.
“You know I have a brick oven, don’t you?”
Not certain why that mattered, he scratched his head.
“It makes the most marvelous pizzas. When I offer them as the lunch special, I always sell out. It wouldn’t be all that hard to make enough for the team…and everyone else.” Her words came more quickly as she eyed the seating area. “I’d need more tables and chairs. Maybe those long narrow ones like they have in the rec center. And some tablecloths, but they’re cheap. I’d keep the menu simple to start. Maybe just pepperoni or cheese. Salad. Soda wouldn’t be any problem. I already stock that.”
Watching Courtney turn his idea into an honest-to-goodness plan warmed the cold that had spread through his chest. “I can borrow the tables and chairs. You just tell me how many you need. I’ll bring them over in the Jeep.”
“This could work, Travis. It could be just the thing I needed to stir up new business.”
A heady excitement hummed through the room. Courtney rose from her desk and flew into his arms. “Travis, this is such a great idea. I don’t know how to thank you.”
He peered down at the pert features where happiness had set up shop. The possible ways she could thank him were endless, but he had one in particular in mind. He dropped a tiny kiss on the tip of her upturned nose.
“Well, you can help me with the end-of-the-season trip to Twister Stadium. We need to start planning it.”
As suddenly as Courtney had filled his arms, she emptied them. “That’s not for, what—five more weeks?” She leaned against her desk, her features tightening. “I told you I wasn’t going.”
Travis held up his hands. “Hey, I’m a pretty big guy, but there’s no way the assistant coach and I can manage twelve boys at the stadium by ourselves. The team mom always comes along to help out.”
Determination settled onto Courtney’s face. “Sorry. You’ll need to get someone else.”
He thought back to the day they’d gone over the team-mom duties. She hadn’t seemed happy about the prospect of a trip to Twister Stadium then, but he’d shrugged aside her concerns, certain she’d get over them. Apparently she hadn’t. It was time to pull out his most persuasive arguments.
“The league’s insurance only covers the coaches and the team mom. That’s you. If you back out, I’ll have to cancel. You don’t want to do that to the boys, do you? Besides, didn’t you just say you owed me? Do this, and we’ll call it even.”
He had her there and they both knew it. Courtney looked as though she’d just swallowed a dose of bitter medicine when she said, “All right,” through clenched teeth.
There was a story behind her reluctance and Travis was determined to uncover it, but the doorbell at the entrance to the café tinkled, silencing his questions. A group of chattering tourists buzzed into the dining area. Courtney immediately shifted into business mode.
“We’ll talk more later,” she said, edging past him without the hoped-for kiss.
Puzzled by Courtney’s reaction, he nodded to the tourists on his way out the door. He was halfway to his car before he remembered that he hadn’t so much as snagged himself a sweet roll.
“Josh, you have your baseball glove?” Courtney stuffed a fresh pack of baby wipes into Addie’s diaper bag.
“Got it.” He ran down the list. “Hat. Glove. Cleats. Batting glove. Bat. Water bottle.” His lopsided grin warned of an impending joke. He pointed down. “Cup. Can we go now?”
“Thanks for the picture, mister.” The child who was growing up before she was ready shifted his weight from one leg to the other at the door. “Cool your jets. We have plenty of time. Besides, we need to talk. I got a phone call from your teacher yesterday.”
Josh’s teasing grin froze. “I’ve been doing better at school, Mom. Honest.”
“That’s exactly what Ms. Culpepper said.” Courtney dropped the diaper bag at Josh’s feet. “I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.” Seeing him standing there in his Sluggers uniform, she couldn’t deny how much he’d changed, thanks in large part to Travis and the extra time he’d spent with her son. The bitter, angry young boy had all but disappeared. In his place stood the one she remembered from better days.
Josh stepped back as she reached for him. “Thanks, Mom. But I’m too old for that.”
“Since when?” Over his good-natured protests, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll never be too old for one of your mama’s hugs.”
“Okay, okay.” Josh tolerated the embrace for all of two seconds before ducking out of it. “Can we goooo noooowww?” he begged.
“The game doesn’t start till noon. What’s the hurry?”
An earnest expression sharpened his features. “Coach Oak said I’m pitching today. I want to get there early and warm up.”
“Ever think you should share that news with your mom?” Courtney threaded her ponytail through the back of a Sluggers ball cap. Butterflies filled her tummy when she thought of all the responsibility that rested on a pitcher’s shoulders. She took a calming breath.
“Didn’t I just tell you?” Josh eyed her quizzically.
“Never mind.” Destroying the boy’s confidence before his first appearance on the mound was so not what she wanted to do. “Let me just round up your sister.” She headed down the short hall. “Addie,” she called. “Let’s go.”
At McLarty Park, red clay and white chalk glistened beneath the midmorning sun.
“There’s Coach.” Josh pointed toward Travis leaning against the fence at Field Number One, where another game was
underway.
Doubt ate at Courtney when the excitement level in the car kicked up a notch. Was she making the second-biggest mistake in her life by letting her children get close to Travis? The whole family had developed quite the case of hero worship for the man who’d made a habit of stopping by Coffee on Brevard every weekday morning. He’d turned out to be the kind of stable, trustworthy man she wanted for her son’s role model. He treated Addie like a princess. He’d even come up with an idea that might keep her business afloat.
But he was leaving town. Headed for a job in the sport that had stolen her children’s father from them. One part of her said she should cut her ties to Travis now, before things went too far. The other part argued that it was already too late.
She wrenched her thoughts back where they belonged when the car door sprang open.
“Bye, Mom!” Without being reminded, Josh grabbed Addie’s diaper bag along with his gear. He dropped the pink tote at Courtney’s usual spot beneath the trees on his way to his coach.
While the boys hit the batting cages before the rest of the team arrived, Courtney spread a blanket beneath the shade tree. She gathered Addie into her lap. They’d giggled their way through a third reading of Are You My Mother? by the time Melinda Markham unfolded a chair at the edge of the blanket.
“How’s our pitcher’s mom this morning? Are you nervous?”
“More than I thought I’d be.” A faint tremble shook Courtney’s hand as she handed Addie juice in a sippy cup. Done with her books, the little girl scrambled down from Courtney’s lap.
“Mom, I gotta go.” The carrot-topped youth at Melinda’s side stamped his feet.
“Hey, Tommy. How’s the arm?” Courtney gave the pitcher the standard greeting.
“Oh, he’s fine.” Melinda spoke for her son. Turning to him, she continued, “Now, go root for Josh. If we get into a hole, it’ll be up to you to dig us out when Coach brings you in to replace him.”
A chill crept up Courtney’s back despite the balmy breeze that sent a palm frond skittering along the left-field fence. She quashed the fleeting thought that Melinda might be right, that her son wasn’t ready for such a huge challenge, that the team could lose because of him.
One glimpse of Travis stepping from behind the dugout banished her fears. The man’s confidence showed in every step he took. From home plate he gave Josh the thumbs-up sign before the coach donned a thick protective vest and catcher’s mask. When her heart thudded in her chest, Courtney knew Travis, not Josh, had caused it.
She squinted until her vision shrank to a thin slit. She held her breath as Josh went into his windup. A fastball barreled through the strike zone and smacked into Travis’s glove.
“Good one,” Travis called.
In a move that captured the attention of every woman within sight and sent Courtney’s pulse into overdrive, the coach rose to a half crouch. Muscles flexing, he fired the ball to Josh before sinking into the catcher’s position again.
“Wow. He’s really improved since tryouts.”
Courtney focused on her son. Josh had changed a lot in the weeks since the draft.
Was it enough?
She tapped fingers against her chair’s plastic armrest when the umpire called, “Play ball!” To her relief, Josh threw consistent heat straight across the plate. One after another, their opponent’s batters struck out and retired to the dugout. After four innings, the Sluggers were well ahead when Travis wandered over to the backstop. He looped his fingers through the chain link.
“I’m pulling Josh out now,” he said, aiming his remarks at Courtney. “He’s done a great job, but he’s thrown ninety pitches. That’s enough for an unseasoned player.”
More familiar with the importance of pitch counts than anyone knew, she only nodded.
“He did better than I expected.” Melinda’s mouth gaped open as the coach walked away. Her focus wandered. “I wonder why he didn’t put Tommy in,” she said, scowling at the sixth grader who’d replaced Josh on the mound.
“This game is practically in the bag,” Courtney offered. Ahead by eight runs, the Sluggers needed only two more to invoke the mercy clause and go home with another win in their pockets. “I bet Coach is saving Tommy for the next time. No sense risking his arm when there’s no need.”
“What are you trying to do? Ruin my son’s chances?” The harsh whisper sliced through the air.
“Wh-what?” Courtney stammered. She shrank into her chair.
Though they were far from the bleachers where most of the parents sat, Melinda leaned in close. “You’re too new to realize it, but the slightest hint of an injury can ruin a player’s chances to turn pro.”
Wrong on all counts.
Courtney suppressed a laugh. She probably knew more about baseball than anyone on the field, including Travis. She could write a book about the aches, the pains, the sprains every player in the league suffered. As for Melinda’s son…
“You think Tommy—” she started slowly.
“I’m sure of it.” Melinda flopped back. “So is Coach. That’s why he wanted my Tommy on his team.” She frowned, then added, “And Josh. Playing for the Sluggers gives the boy—gives both our boys—a chance to prove they have what it takes. Coach Oak will spread the word. Scouts will get the message and come look at them. It’s how our sons will make it to the next level.”
Courtney ran her fingers through her ponytail. Snagging one of only twelve hundred spots on the major league rosters took more than the recommendation of a Little League coach. It took physical ability and talent, loads of it. Not to mention luck. None of which was under the control of the players…or their coaches.
“At this age, our boys should play sports because they enjoy it,” she said, surprised at how much her opinion had changed in just eight weeks.
“Oh, no.” Melinda shook her head. “We need to pull out all the stops now if they’re ever going to have a chance. Why, Tom practices with Tommy every night. They’re already working on his curveball. We have a batting cage and a pitching machine in our backyard, and we’re enrolling Tommy in an exclusive baseball camp on the West Coast.”
Courtney held up a hand. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a boy who hasn’t even finished elementary school, don’t you think?” She shuddered to imagine how her friend would react the first time her son got cut from a team. Or worse, bombed out of tryouts. She’d seen firsthand the damage such single-mindedness could do.
And with a sigh, she realized she didn’t know whether Travis shared Melinda’s opinion or not.
Meeting Josh at the car minutes after the game, she ran a hand through his tousled hair and gave her son a heartfelt “You looked good out there.”
He grinned up at her. “Bobby Jones wants me to ride with him to get pizza. Can I, Mom?”
No sooner did the words tumble from his mouth than an oversize SUV slowed to a stop at Courtney’s bumper. The passenger-side window glided down, and Betty Jones motioned. “Come on, Josh. We have plenty of room.”
The chance to hash things out with Travis while the team headed for the pizza party was too good to pass up. Courtney waited all of two seconds before giving her permission. She retrieved Addie’s car seat from the back of the sedan. With her little girl toddling along at her side, she headed for the coach’s Jeep while second thoughts crowded her mind.
What if Travis shared Melinda’s insistence that everything in a young boy’s life should revolve around baseball? Her heart hammered when she considered the possible outcome of their talk. And with a start, the truth hit home.
As much as she fought it, as often as she reminded herself that the man wasn’t going to stick around, each day brought her a little closer to falling for Travis.
Yet she had to ask the tough questions. Had to know if there was room in his heart for more than a round white ball and a leather glove. Her arms crossed, she stiffened her spine and her determination to learn the truth about the coach.
Addie had no such qualms. She
held out her arms to Travis as soon as he got within reach.
“Hey, Addie,” he cooed to the baby. “How’s my little girl today? You going to ride with me?” He pointed toward the car seat at Courtney’s feet.
“If that’s all right.” She forced the words through trembling lips.
Addie tugged at Travis’s baseball cap until she held it in her chubby hands. With hardly any effort at all, he lifted the toddler high in the air. “Where’s your big brother, huh?”
Her voice shaky, Courtney told him Josh had gone ahead. “They’ll meet us at the restaurant.” Now that the moment was upon her, she had trouble forming the words. “Travis, we…um…we need to talk.”
T-a-l-k. Four letters that spelled sayonara, adios, goodbye.
The unexpected word rocked Travis to his cleats.
One look at Courtney’s pale face and rigid posture told him something had gone horribly wrong. Feeling as though he’d just been slammed in the gut, he lowered Addie to the ground.
“Talk, huh?”
Buying time, he stowed his gear in the back of the Jeep and lowered the hatch.
“Hop in, then.” He pretended the installation of the baby’s car seat required his full concentration while he used the time to pull the torn edges of his composure together. Once everyone was buckled in, he sped past Ed’s Italian, where banners announced the restaurant’s final weekend.
“Where are we going?” Courtney broke the silence.
His voice rough, he answered, “Thought we’d find someplace quiet since you wanted to—” he expelled a breath “—talk. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the whole team hanging on every word.” He shrugged. “No one will mind if we’re a little late.”
He slowed onto a winding, twisty road under a canopy of towering oaks. At a grassy spot overlooking the wide river he pulled onto the shoulder. The windows down, he swiveled to check on the baby in the back seat.
Addie’s head lolled to one side, a tiny bubble of drool on her lips. His chest tightened when he considered that, depending on how the conversation went, he might not play a part in the little girl’s life. He barely gathered enough spit to swallow before he turned to face the woman he was crazy about.
