Defending Hearts

by Shannon Stacey

  How was it possible to regret kissing a man and yet want the man to kiss you at the same damn time? Gretchen yanked out her chair and sat, wishing she were more savvy when it came to men. Usually, savvy wasn’t required. If she liked a guy, she dated him. If she didn’t, she didn’t accept any offered invitation. Why was Alex any different?

  It had to be the fact that he was living—temporarily, of course—under the same roof she was. Because of Gram, Gretchen had never been in the habit of bringing men home with her. Once she’d been out with a guy enough times that she was comfortable with the idea, they went to his place. She could leave when she wanted and her home was a drama-free space.

  That couldn’t happen with the man sitting across from her, filling half his plate with salad.

  “I heard you on the phone earlier, Alex,” Gram said. “I couldn’t hear the conversation, of course, but you sounded angry. Is everything okay?”

  Gretchen looked up, concerned and curious at the same time. She knew Alex had a temper problem when they were kids, until Coach McDonnell straightened him out, but he seemed so even tempered now, it was hard to imagine him yelling on the phone.

  But all he did was laugh and shake his head. “I wasn’t angry. That was my agent and we were having a disagreement about me heading to New York City for some meetings. I was just trying to talk over him because his superpower seems to be talking forever without having to take a breath.”

  “He wants you to go to the city?”

  Alex nodded. “He thinks once I’m there and we’ve gone over some work opportunities, I’ll forget I wanted a hiatus.”

  Gretchen wondered if his agent was right. Once Alex was back in the big city, there probably wouldn’t be a lot of incentive to come back to Stewart Mills. Yet another reason not to kiss him.

  But that kiss, though . . .

  She wondered how much their taxes would go up if she built a shed at the edge of the pumpkin field. She’d been thinking about it for a while, because there were supplies and tools she didn’t use anywhere else on the farm, and it was dumb to haul them back and forth. But another outbuilding meant another tax hike.

  Jen was a genius, Gretchen thought, shoving a bite of ham into her mouth. Not only was she not blushing at the dinner table, but she was also going to drive herself so nuts thinking about taxes, she’d finally get around to visiting the town hall and getting information on the shed.

  “Oh, I meant to ask you last night, but I forgot,” Gram said. “What did you think of the pumpkins, Alex? Did you get any pictures for me?”

  Damn. Gretchen kept her eyes on her plate, trying to ignore the conversation.

  “I did, actually,” Alex said. “I can show them to you later.”

  “You guys were out there a long time.”

  “I was showing him the soaker hoses,” Gretchen said, not wanting to risk Alex even hinting about what they’d really been up to.

  “Fascinating stuff,” he said, and she looked up to scowl at him. His gaze met hers, sparkling with humor, and she rolled her eyes. “It seems like a lot of work.”

  Work she could handle talking about, Gretchen thought. Talk about work, think about taxes and spend as much time as possible anywhere but in the house.

  Her gaze drifted to his mouth. She just couldn’t think about that kiss.

  09

  Alex sat in the shade of the covered bridge, eating from an ice cream cup he’d bought at the convenience store. Ice cream was a rare treat for him, but he figured he’d earned one. It had been almost a week since he kissed Gretchen out in the field of pumpkins, and he’d managed not to explode from the sexual frustration that had been bad even before the kiss. Since that night, it had been building and building with no hope of release anytime soon.

  He wouldn’t say Gretchen was avoiding him, but he couldn’t think of a single time they’d been alone since then. Maybe technically they’d been alone in a room for a few minutes, but Ida was still in the house. And she was Gretchen’s grandmother. Call him old-fashioned, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to make out with a woman while her grandmother was in the other room.

  “Hey, Mr. Murphy.”

  Alex almost dropped his ice cream cup, but he recovered before it hit the ground. He hadn’t heard anybody approaching, but now he saw Hunter Cass walking toward him. He was one of the kids whose family had been hit pretty hard when the mills closed and who had started unraveling both academically and behaviorally when the team’s funding was cut.

  “How are things going, kid?”

  He was expecting a shrug, since that had been the kid’s primary form of communication when the alumni team members first returned to Stewart Mills for Eagles Fest. But Hunter smiled and hopped up onto the picnic table, sitting on the top with his feet resting on the bench.

  “Things are good. Pretty sure I’ll make the team, and Molly and I are back together. And my dad found a good job. He has to travel a bit, but the money’s not bad and he and my mom aren’t fighting now. Or drinking.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I know things were rough there for a while.”

  “Having you guys around really helped, too. All of us. When they cut the team, we thought it was over. Like everything was over, you know? But you guys all got out and did okay and none of you played pro football.”

  Alex leaned back against a support beam and considered the kid. While this was what he’d come back for—the emotional impact of Eagles Fest and how the town had rallied—this was an open and unguarded moment for the boy. While he might revisit some of the conversation later in a more formal interview, Alex was willing to relax for now and just be an ear for the kid to bend.

  “I know you were discouraged when the football program was cut. And, to be honest, I’m not sure how we all would have done without going to college and, for some of us, it was the championship that gave us the boost we needed to get accepted. But I can see how it would help to see that football didn’t define our lives. There’s life without football, I promise.”

  “I had focused so much on a football scholarship getting me out of here that I didn’t know how I’d have a life without it.” Hunter shrugged. “I mean, I know none of the top football programs look at a school our size, but there are colleges that would take me. But now I know the only thing I can depend on for sure is my grades, because those are the only things I can control.”

  Alex felt a swell of pride that he’d been a part of helping this kid get back on track. Not only back on track, but on a better track. He knew most of it was Coach, but having a town full of people fighting to support them had made a difference for every kid on the football team.

  “Sounds like you’ve got your head on straight,” he said. “And you know you’ve got plenty of people to talk to if you ever need advice or a shoulder. Including me. You’ve got my email address.”

  Hunter nodded and hopped off the table. “I’m supposed to be grabbing sodas for me and Molly, so I’m going to head out. See you around.”

  Feeling less frustrated thanks to the ice cream and the good feelings his conversation with Hunter left him with, Alex walked back to the school. Even though practice was over, he wanted to shoot some more pictures, and the light was good today.

  When he stepped out to the sidelines, though, he was surprised to see Gretchen and Cocoa out on the field. She was playing with the dog, who was running in circles around her and clearly having the time of her life.

  He was able to get a few good shots of them playing before the dog saw him and ran to greet him. Gretchen followed more slowly, her face pink from the exertion in the heat. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you two here.”

  “I dropped Gram off at the doctor’s office, so Cocoa and I thought we’d come over and see if anything was going on. I guess we missed it.”

  “It was hot today and the kids have been working hard, so Coach let them cut out early
. I figured I’d take advantage of the time to take some stock shots. The signs and the logos on the field and stuff. I talked to Jen yesterday and she mentioned it would be nice to have some generic but high-quality photos for newsletters and the yearbook and stuff. Photos with no kids in them so they’re not dated.”

  “You talked to Jen yesterday?”

  She looked surprised and for a second he wondered if she was jealous, but then he realized she might be worried he’d told her friend about what they’d almost gotten up to in the pumpkin patch.

  “Yeah, we talked about my work,” he said. “I wanted to interview her about her part in Eagles Fest’s success, plus to talk to her about some of the things the kids have said. It was a deal I made with Coach. Anything personal needs to be approved. So is Ida okay? You said you left her at the doctor’s office.”

  “Oh, she’s fine. Just a regularly scheduled thing to check on her blood pressure and see if she needs her medication adjusted. It runs a bit high, so we keep an eye on it.” Gretchen rubbed the top of Cocoa’s head. “That’s one of the reasons we got this girl. The nurses said having a pet companion can be good for the blood pressure.”

  Cocoa panted and offered her paw. Gretchen sighed and gave her a high five, which made Alex laugh. “She needs to learn a few new tricks.”

  “I bought her a Frisbee, but she ran off with it and I still haven’t found it.”

  “I remember seeing a pile of tennis balls by the barn, but I haven’t seen a Frisbee anywhere.”

  Gretchen laughed and shook her head. “I hope she didn’t eat it. Anyway, I guess we’ll head back now. Gram should be about done and I have a bowl in the truck so I can give Cocoa some water.”

  “I mentioned it to Ida, but I don’t know if she told you. I’m meeting a couple at the pizza place for supper. They were able to keep their house because of a program the governor helped connect them with, so I want to get their story. I don’t know how late I’ll be, but I’ll miss dinner for sure.”

  “Okay.”

  He felt his body prepare to move, as if to step forward and kiss her good-bye, but she bent over to clip the leash back on Cocoa’s collar. When she stood, she was facing the exit and she gave him a little wave.

  “I’ll see you either later tonight or in the morning, then.”

  He nodded, but she was already walking away with Cocoa. The dog looked back at him, as if wondering why they were leaving him behind, but then she felt the tug of the leash and turned to face forward again.

  Alex watched them go, feeling the frustration rise again. It was too hot to walk back to the store for another ice cream cup, so he took his camera out of its bag and got to work.

  —

  Gretchen came fully awake in the dark, throwing the sheet back to get up before she even fully registered why she was awake.

  Cocoa was barking. Not the want to be best friends? bark for animals that wandered into the yard, or the halfhearted stranger-danger bark for the rare occasion the UPS truck bounced up the driveway. If a dog could panic, Cocoa was panicking.

  With bare feet, Gretchen ran to her door and threw it open. Cocoa was in Gram’s room, so she opened the door and stepped inside. The sight of her grandmother on the floor made Gretchen’s chest and throat tighten with fear. “Gram!”

  “Oh, hush, you silly dog.” Gram pushed herself to hands and knees, and Gretchen rushed to help her. “I tripped.”

  “Maybe you should sit for a minute.” There was a knock behind her, and Gretchen turned around to find an empty doorway.

  “Everybody decent?” Alex called from around the corner.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m fine.” Gram slapped at Gretchen’s hand.

  Gretchen really wanted her to sit on the floor for a minute, in case she was hurt, but Alex stepped in front of her and extended his hand to Gram. She took it and he hauled her to her feet.

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you bruise anything?” Gretchen couldn’t shake the horrible image of Gram on the floor, and the fear was slow in receding. “Did you—”

  “If you’re about to ask me if I broke a hip, Gretchen Marie Walker, you can shut it right now. I’m only sixty-eight years old, young lady.”

  Gretchen shut her mouth and stood up. Gram was right, of course. Ida Walker wasn’t fragile, by any means. But keeping her mouth shut didn’t mean she wasn’t still afraid.

  Gram had been cooking the day Gramps passed away. She was making biscuits to go with the beef stew simmering on the stove, and Gretchen went out to the barn to help Gramps finish up whatever he’d been doing before supper. He was lying on the floor when she walked in, and it was already too late. His heart, the doctors told them later.

  Gretchen could still remember the smell of the burned black tar the forgotten beef stew had turned into, and to this day, she still had a hard time keeping the memories at bay when Gram made it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to shake off the painful memories. Gram had tripped. That was all. “It just scared me.”

  “You guys can hang out in here and chat if you want, but I’m going to finish what I started. I’ll be right back.”

  “You should take some ibuprofen while you’re in there,” Gretchen said. “For your knee. You know, just in case.”

  Gram waved a hand at her impatiently as she left the room. A few seconds later, the bathroom door closed and Gretchen let out a shaky breath. “Sorry we woke you up.”

  Alex frowned at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Okay. God, I think I lost five years off my life. Is my hair gray? I feel like my hair is gray now.”

  He chuckled and smoothed her hair away from her face. “It’s not. It’s as dark and beautiful as ever.”

  She slapped at his hand. “Don’t do that.”

  “You sure are prickly when you have the crap scared out of you in the middle of the night.”

  That got a chuckle out of her, and she felt the last of the fear fading away. So maybe she’d overreacted a little. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to sleep. I feel like I just drank an entire pot of coffee.”

  “You will, once the adrenaline rush is over.”

  When Gram came back and saw them both still standing there, she waved a hand toward the door. “I’m fine. And I’m going back to bed, so unless you guys want to stand there and watch me sleep, I suggest you go back to bed, too.”

  Cocoa made a whining sound and stared up at Gretchen with so much intensity, she thought the dog was trying to send her a psychic message. “I think the excitement was too much for Cocoa. Since she’s up and expects to go out, I’m going to take her outside. Then I’ll let her back in and maybe she’ll settle down.”

  “I’ll take her,” Alex said. “Come on, Cocoa.”

  “Did you take some ibuprofen?” Gretchen asked after they were gone.

  “I did. I think I’ll have a bruise in the morning, but not a bad one.” She sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the hem of her nightgown to her thigh. “Since I know you’ll worry, you can see for yourself.”

  It wasn’t bad, which did make Gretchen feel better. “I wasn’t going to ask you if you broke a hip, by the way. I was worried about your wrists and your kneecap, which has nothing to do with age.”

  Gram cupped her face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “You’re a blessing, Gretchen. Even when you’re fussing over me.”

  “Almost as much as you fuss over me.” Gretchen pulled Gram’s nightgown down and stood up straight. “We’ve got to take care of each other. We’re all we have.”

  “And Cocoa,” Gram said.

  “And Cocoa.”

  A few minutes later, they heard the telltale clicking of dog nails in the hall and Cocoa walked in. After sniffing at Gram, she plopped down on her bed and looked at Gretchen as if she had no idea why she was in their room i
n the middle of the night.

  After blowing Gram a kiss, Gretchen turned off the light and closed the door softly behind her.

  Her nerves hadn’t settled yet, though, and she knew if she went and put her head on the pillow, she was going to relive the moment she’d seen Gram on the floor over and over. That would almost certainly lead her down the dark path to reliving the moment she’d found Gramps on the barn floor.

  Instead she went down the stairs, treading lightly in hopes that Cocoa would already be asleep. Maybe if she had a cookie and some milk, it would calm her down. Or a handful of cookies.

  —

  Alex had just popped a grape into his mouth when Gretchen walked into the kitchen. Since he couldn’t say anything, he lifted his hand to wave. When she slapped her palm against his in a high five, he almost choked on the grape.

  “Cocoa’s doing a good job of training you,” she said, walking past him to get to the cookie jar tucked away behind the coffeemaker.

  The massive grape finally chewed, he swallowed it so he could talk. “You’re funny at one thirty in the morning.”

  “And you’re not wearing a shirt.”

  He looked down at his naked chest and bare feet. “Sometimes I skip the sweatpants, so tonight could have been a lot more embarrassing.”

  She paused with a chocolate chip cookie halfway to her mouth. “That would have been interesting. Although you probably would have stopped to put them on.”

  “I don’t know. I was getting out of bed when Cocoa started barking, but once you yelled Gram, there was nothing in my head but getting there. Luckily, I could hear her talking and knew she was conscious, so I pulled up short in case she wasn’t decent. But, honestly, I might have a couple of gray hairs lurking now, too.”

  “It was scary.” She took a bite of the cookie and then walked to the fridge to pour herself a cup of milk. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore, because I came down here to shake it off so I can get some sleep.”

  “Then we’ll talk about something else.”